Go2 - Blog Posts

i love drawing them

I refuse to finish good omens season 2. I know what's coming and I'm not ready. They are my emotionally unstable 6000 year old pining couple. No. I'm not going to finish past episode 4 until the next season is out. I'm to unstable to watch their break up right now.

gomens dump hiiii

I watched Good Omens 2

No plot spoilers, but! There was only one song by Queen in this season (as far as I could tell).

I know I wasn't the only one who thought about other songs by Queen that would've fit this scene or that, and also not the only one who's ruminating about the songs that could be featured on the next season.

I've seen some devastating fantastic suggestions like The Show Must Go On, Who Wants To Live Forever, and of course, Love Of My Life. For the latter, I offer the lesser known alternative Nevermore, but honestly, there's only one song going around my head for s3:

Cause love's such an old fashioned word And love dares you To care for The people on the edge of the night And love dares you To change our way of Caring about ourselves This is our last dance This is our last dance This is ourselves Under pressure

Good Omens + Hozier

You Say Potato, I Say Excellent! Or blocking, accents and legacy of morality tales in ‘The Resurrectionists’ minisode PART II

Alternate title: how Aziraphale’s naivety in this episode was supposed to make you a bit outraged

I have to shout out to @bowtiepastabitch for their AMAZING historical analysis of this minisode - it prompted me to finish this long ramble that has been drifting in my notes. Anyway, I have a major obsession with the ways blocking and dialogue interplay in Good Omens - you can check out my analysis of the blocking in the flashbacks in S1. But The Resurrectionists is really something special. This got so long I am splitting it into two parts. 

What we see in this minisode is a morality tale - a genre of children’s literature that was extremely popular in the early 1800s where the minisode is taking place. Catch up on the historical background in Part I.

When looking at this minisode, it is really important to look at two complementary narrative tools - Crowley’s accent and the placement of Aziraphale in relation to Crowley. Through the minisode, Crowley switches between his standard English accent and a delightful Scottish accent. But the switching isn’t random!

Scottish lines =  character Demon Crowley, who moves the plot of the story along

English lines = Crowley, the moral guide leading Aziraphale

Additionally, the two of them swap sides in their blocking frequently in this episode. Their standard placement is A/R + C/L but the swap to C/R + A/L is almost the norm in this minisode.

Analyzing Blocking and Dialogue

We open in the graveyard, with Aziraphale and Crowley in their standard placement, observing the statue of Gabriel. But then they notice Elspeth, digging up a corpse. When Aziraphale approaches Elspeth to inform her that her actions are Not Good, he actually ends up swapped with Crowley and finds himself on the left because what he is doing - making moral judgments on the actions of Elspeth with no understanding of what led her here - is doing Good, not good.

The next scene finds Crowley helping Elspeth cart the corpse away from the graveyard, while the trio debate all the other ways Elspeth could make money - Aziraphale suggests running a bookshop, farming, weaving, giving the standard Good party line about hard work blah blah blah. Aziraphale remains on the left - after all, those supposed options are completely unrealistic, unobtainable professions for someone in Elspeth's socioeconomic position. They aren't remotely helpful suggestions.

Aziraphale only finds himself back on the right when he and Crowley are introduced to Wee Morag, and have some time to listen and observe the reality of their situation.

Then, off we go to complete our journey to sell the body. Aziraphale and Crowley find themselves having a debate about morality, but Aziraphale is again ON THE LEFT as he waxes poetic about the virtues of poverty - doing Good, not good again. What I loved here was you saw the clear purpose between Crowley’s two accents as he switched mid-line -

Crowley: (SC) Oh, I'm down with wicked! (EN) Anyway, is it wicked? She needed the money. 

Upon reaching the lodging of Mr. Dalrymple, FRCSE, Crowley and Aziraphale take their standard places but this scene has one really important moment that I want to highlight. When they open the barrel to find the rotted corpse, the look on Crowley’s face is so telling. He often finds Aziraphale’s machinations amusing even when they are annoying, but here he looks decidedly disappointed. Aziraphale might have done Good by rendering the body unsellable, but what good did it do? The body is still been un-interred. Elspeth has wasted her energy, and has made a terrible first impression of the surgeon whom she needs to pay her for her services. It looks like Crowley wants to say something, but he stops himself and clenches his jaw. The PATIENCE he is showing to Aziraphale - this is a quality that Crowley has in SPADES but we really see him exercise it here.

After the discussion with Mr. Dalrymple, in which Aziraphale realizes the importance of dissections for educating medical students and thus leading to better care for the living, he asks the right question - why should the poor have to risk death to obtain bodies? But he let's himself get sidetracked by a blatant appeal to his emotions...

At this point, Aziraphale goes all in on body snatching being Good. Which... it still isn't because it is based on a broken system that disadvantages the poor? FOCUS, angel. He even goes as far as to offer to help Elspeth and Wee Morag in obtaining another corpse but note that again, he is on the LEFT -

Remember, Wee Morag is deeply conflicted about the morality of body snatching, and instead of explaining anything to her (like, that having your body dissected won't keep you out of heaven would be start) Aziraphale just sort of joins Elspeth in pressuring her to join in - which is pretty awful and coercive, but gee if that isn't just heaven's playbook for doing Good, not good.

So we return to the graveyard, and this is where everything goes sideways. Aziraphale spends basically this entire sequence on the left. First, he notices the ingenuity of the grave guns but fails to acknowledge the travesty of so much energy being spent on protecting wealthy corpses while the poor suffer. Then, the tragedy strikes. After Wee Morag is shot, Aziraphale wastes time justifying saving her, resulting in her dying before he can act. And after all this, after the heart break of seeing her partner die, we see Elspeth come to the logical conclusion. If body snatching is Good, then might as well take Wee Morag off to Mr. Dalrymple, right?

What shouldn't be overlooked is what takes place when Elspeth gets Wee Morag's body to Mr. Dalrymple. Because while Aziraphale is very clearly illustrating the dangers of black and white morality through religion, Dalrymple is showing that black and white morality through science is just as bad. Dalrymple has unshakable belief in the power of science and knowledge to alleviate human suffering and sees his work at Good. He cares about preventing illness, but ignore his role in perpetuating poverty - an unfortunate side effect of rigid belief systems of all shapes and sizes. He is downright cruel to Elspeth.

This is already getting real long, so we won't go into the absurdist comedy of the scene in the tomb - suffice to say that the surreal nature of Crowley's bargaining with Elspeth smacks of a fantastic tales of pacts made with the devil. It's delightfully unhinged.

The one line I think worth pointing out?

"Do I sound like a goat?"

I think this line is key in the narrative connection between the three minisodes in S2. All three flashbacks show Crowley and Aziraphale engaging in acts of deception, but they all have important differences:

In A Companion to Owls, the two work together, and they manage to pull off the trick and evade punishment.

In Nazi Zombies from Hell, Aziraphale comes up with a plan and Crowley goes along with it, and they barely manage to evade punishment.

In The Resurrectionists, Crowley comes up with a plan and Aziraphale goes along with it, and Crowley is sucked down to hell.

I think it's worth noting just how silly Crowley is in the first two minisodes. Bildad and Scottish Crowley are FUN even when dealing real heavy shit. Just a complete joy to watch. And we never see that level of silly from him again. Whatever happened in hell was clearly really bad since the next time we see him in St. James Park he is asking for holy water. He may have moments, but he is never the same.

Questions, comments, additional thoughts? Lay them on me. I'd love to dig into new lines of inquiry on this minisode because I just love it so much <3

Assuming Aziraphale has zero idea that Second Coming involves torturing demons…

This is what is going to make him snap, is it not. I mean imagine you go to Heaven really hoping to fix it and you find out that Second Coming not only means end of the world (he knew about that six thousand years ago) but torturing fallen angels.

Imagine his face when he realises that they’re planning to do that to Crowley.

What does he do? He runs to Metatron? He showed him that Crowley can be an Angel again so obviously he won’t be treated like other demons, right?

But Metatron has everything he wants now so he doesn’t need to lie to Aziraphale anymore. No, Crowley made his choice, he stayed with demons so he will be treated as one.

But, but, he can convince him! He will try again!

No, too late for that.

What if Crowley will already be captured? Metatron clearly can’t stand him.

Or will he tell Aziraphale he can try again? Knowing Crowley still won’t come back.

But imagine Aziraphale grabbing Crowley and nervously telling him that he has to come with him or they will hurt him. Crowley still won’t go. He will look at him in even bigger disbelief. You are still on their side? Come to Heaven? When they just told you they will torture me otherwise?

I can imagine Aziraphale finally stopping, forced to face the truth.

Or if he found out they captured Crowley? After telling him he can totally be an Angel again? Realising they lied about everything to him and now Crowley will get hurt?

Oh boy.

something about those little moments in s2ep3 with crowley alone in the bookshop while aziraphale is in scotland. I watched them all as a single sequence and it's just... SO MUCH.

look. the fact that crowley is cool as a cucumber when aziraphale is around, but when he isn't... well. there's the deep, deep breath he takes while he watches azi drive away, and i can't tell if he's more scared of being alone with gabriel or worried about azi going away alone. because as someone pointed out, aziraphale gets the car keys right after muriel arrives, and obviously it's safer for him to take the bentley which will hopefully keep him safe as it usually keeps crowley safe; but at the same time, crowley has to give up what's basically an extension of him, the one protection he has ready, to shield himself or to run away with, should anything happen while the guardian of the eastern gate aziraphale isn't there.

and then crowley is alone, without aziraphale, without his comfort car, stranded in his favorite place which has ceased being safe and has become instead somewhat inhospitable because his mortal enemy now lives here too. and the way he's wearing no jacket, no waistcoat, and he's just so thin, and snake-like, especially standing there near gabriel, who is built like a tank and you just know that if he's right, if by any chance gabriel became hostile, even in a non-magic fight crowley wouldn't stand a chance.

and yet, AND YET, he's quietly explaining gravity to him, then trying (and failing) to make Maggie and Nina vavoom and also explaining THAT to jim (azi didn't stop to hear his very romantic plan so at least maybe does jim? Can I hear a fucking wahoo?!), and you can't help but feel how badly he needs to talk to someone, anyone nonhuman around who isn't immediately outright hostile, without censoring himself, without complicated feelings in between.

and then, the exact moment later, the temporary peace is broken by gabriel himself remembering something ominous and ONE MOMENT LATER YET shax is outside, complete with background screaming chorus, and then crowley is desperately trying to convince her they don't know where the archangel is, still playing cool but swallowing like that, and then she says Hell will declare war and he's just thrown for a moment and says "to me?!" in THAT voice! but it's even worse than that, because they'll actually declare war not on him but on his friend, and he could maybe cope with hell wanting his scalp (again) but Aziraphale's?! And then STILL keeping that facade and telling her that anyway the angel is inside in the basement, because he knows that Aziraphale is safe while he's inside the bookshop, and therefore trying to keep her off Aziraphale's back while he's outside and alone? Which btw doesn't work because she somehow knows anyway and proceeds on harassing the angel in the bentley the very next time we see him?! AND at the same time he's trying to keep her from realizing he is all alone, here, in the bookshop?!?

And he's been flippant throughout, but the moment she leaves he's like, wreaked?! And his first instinct is of course to go back at being mad and threatening at Jim, but even that feels pointless, because the machine is already in motion, and it's always too late, it's "we're doomed" all over again, isn't it? and the fact that he's shaking all over as he comes to this conclusion?

and then we learn that he hasn't slept all night after this, and as soon as Aziraphale is finally back he's immediately out as if he'd been looking out the window all night waiting for him to be back home safe, and for his car to be available for him to finally feel safe into, and i've seen people wonder why he bolts the fuck out of there as soon as azi is back as if he didn't need a breather after all he's been through, AND THE FACT THAT LATER ON HE TELLS AZIRAPHALE CaN I WaTcH AS IF HE'S AT ALL INTERESTED IN HIM RUNNING ERRANDS ACROSS ALL OF SOHO AND NOT IN FACT UNABLE TO LEAVE AZIRAPHALE'S SIDE NOW THAT HE'S FINALLY BACK AFTER A FULL DAY AWAY DURING WHICH HELL IS APPARENTLY ABOUT TO DECLARE WAR TO HIM SPECIFICALLY WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE ABSOLUTE FUCK

anyway what i want to say is this sequence is the epitome of anxiety and claustrophoby for me, and it plays like a horror movie. It's just A Lot

we do not talk enough about the moment right before crowley puts his sunglasses back on. the "nothing lasts forever" is devastating and if you're like me your eyes were so full of tears you couldn't see the screen the first time you watched it (just like crowley, look at us all twinning in sadness!).

there is a shift that happens in his eyes and i think it is absolutely fascinating and heartbreaking at the same time.

we begin with crowley averting his gaze from aziraphale's face and staring off into the distance instead, and you can see his spirit break. that crowley just lost the one thing in the world he cannot live without and we can see it written across his face like a neon sign.

then, as you'd expect, he gives into the need to cover up his pain, to try and make himself less vulnerable, and even before he lifts his glasses he looks down so aziraphale can no longer see his eyes.

now, the next part is what would not let me out of its grasp all day. we know it happens because of his demeanour afterwards and up until the kiss, but you can actually watch as crowley makes himself numb to the world.

i am intimately familiar with dissociation as a trauma and stress response, and while you can never fully control it, you do eventually find the switch in your mind that makes you snap back into the haze. crowley has had six thousand years to get really, really good at leaving reality behind when he needs and/or wants to.

that's exactly what he does.

he still looks sad, and yet there's just something distinctly distant in his eyes, the shift from openly heartbroken to "i don't want to feel any of this let me leave".

glasses? on

emotions? off

hotel? trivago

i have stared at those four frames more than any person probably should and i don't know if it's the light, if i am going insane, or if there is a single tear sliding out of his right (our left) eye. i'm probably insane and the light is a bitch so if anyone has some high resolution shots or anything that could answer that question without a doubt PLEASE do add it.

by now you are probably ready to threaten me with a knife in a dark alley but before you do that or drive your car off a cliff, let me tell you the best part:

aziraphale notices.

they might be communicating on two different frequencies but aziraphale knows crowley. he knows and loves him, and, most importantly, over the last few years he has gotten used to seeing crowley without his glasses. aziraphale could probably write a book on the expressions in his eyes alone and watches that shift happen and is devastated.

look.

he tries to make himself hope the same second, tries to convince himself crowley is putting on his glasses so they can leave together, but he knows.

aziraphale sees the light leave crowley's eyes, sees crowley leave, knowing that he is quite literally running away from him. you and me against the world, angel, but in that moment crowley firmly pushes him back to "the world" (or tries to, anyway).

the entire season we see crowley take off his glasses whenever he enters the bookshop to the point where he's running around without them on in broad daylight with jimbriel right there.

can you imagine how hurt and confused aziraphale must be?

because what crowley is telling him, if we really, really break it down, is that aziraphale is no longer a safe person for him. and repairing that trust is going to take time and work, no matter how much crowley loves him, how badly they love and need each other.

anyway to seal this off and really rub in the pain - how it started vs. how it ended. <3

oh one last thing: now crowley no longer has a single person he can be himself around, no one that knows him, no one he trusts. no one in whose presence he can take his glasses off.

and outside of the bentley and his own flat, he no longer has a place to do so either. the bookshop was theirs. with aziraphale gone, is it really a safe place anymore? is it somewhere he can just let himself be knowing he will be looked after and protected?

easy answer: no.

alright, off i go. see y'all on the next angst post or in the tags.

Lil rant incoming. I was watching a clip on an insta fan account of when Aziraphale and Crowley arrive at the theatre in 1941 and Azi is being all cute and excited and I noticed someone commented this:

And seriously I felt so shocked because I'm so used to our cozy little echo chamber here where we all adore the ineffable husbands.

The ineffables are dorky af, we know that. They are unapologetically ridiculous and goofy and that's part of what makes them so compelling. They are hilariously cartoonish but also have such profound depth and complexity. These characters are so incredibly special that they have impacted all of us here in an intense, visceral manner.

I'm rambling here but my point is... mah point is.... mah point IS... dolphins Silliness is important. What will feel cringey to the wrong people will be perceived as an endearing part of who you are by the right people. Be as weird as your nasty little heart desires. 

@ineffabildaddy - I remembered our "cool" discourse again while typing this!

There are no capital letters capital enough to express how stylistically impeccable that artwork is. WOW is nowhere near enough.

good omens posting !!! (click image for optimal quality)

prints available here

That is SO beautifully done...

you need nerves of steel. and a hand as steady as the rock of gibraltar.

There should be a quick moment of Crowley and Aziraphale very close, alone, just finished kissing and Crowley has a smirk on his face and says something that Michael Sheen would be very proud of him for saying

After reading so much angst and real honest-to-goodness psychological drama, I revel in the warm, light and touching stories like these. There's a Russian expression "my kind of plantain/works like a plantain", which means that some fic or headcanon is good for soothing pain and heartache. And this is exactly MY kind of plantain. I love it. Incredibly so.

The most romantic moment that Aziraphale could have imagined, it’s raining and they’re absolutely soaked, but he has his arms around Crowley’s shoulders and he’s kissing him and Crowley is kissing back and oh it’s like straight from a book!

And when they pull away just an inch and Aziraphale has a dreamy look on his face and he notices Crowley’s happy smirk and he sighs.

“Alright you can say it.”

“Vavoom!”

You know, Nina and Maggie wouldn't have been locked in the coffee shop so long if Aziraphale had just RETURNED the plate he STOLE with the Eccles cakes on it. 😆😆😆

Oh, I love this! And somehow "They always build a snowman when it snows" is the sweetest little detail of them all.

So what if

Jesus decides he’d rather drink in the pub with Crowley instead of judging anyone.

Zombies get too busy dancing in Michael Jackson’s thriller and so find their new purpose that makes them happy.

God doesn’t even know what’s going on, too busy having dumbass fights with Satan.

Aziraphale comes back to Earth because he gets fired, Crowley wants to know why, and Aziraphale pretends it’s because he tried to thwart the big plan, but actually, it’s because he spent all his time drawing Crowley instead of doing boring paperwork. They also found him with his mouth full of cake.

Crowley knows. He laughs inside.

Metatron tries to start Armageddon but literally nobody is interested because they were invited to Beelzebub&Gabriel wedding and the preparations make Angels and Demons busy.

Aziraphale and Crowley are too busy bidding on a cottage. They don’t tell each other. So they’re bidding on the same one. So when Aziraphale wins he has to sell all the buildings he owns in Soho because Crowley bid so high, and Aziraphale failed to give up, that the cottage was sold for 10 times what it was worth.

Crowley bursts out laughing when Aziraphale takes him to see the surprise. When he explains he was the other bidder, they finally promise each other to not hide things from each other again.

They go to Beelzebub&Gabriel wedding. Angels and Demons dance together. Nobody cares. Everyone is happy. Metatron sits in the corner.

Crowley is there for alcohol. Aziraphale is there for cake. They finally recreate their dance.

Aziraphale watches Crowley who’s tipsy enough to start dancing with Beelzebub. Demons can dance. Crowley is really hot.

They take a walk outside to cool down, for different reasons, and when they sit by the lake, stars shining above them, Aziraphale pops the question.

Crowley grins. He says of course. Not in a bloody church though.

Not in a church, they agree.

God and Satan and Jesus are invited to their wedding. They get absolutely shitfaced. It’s the funniest and most loveable wedding the world has ever seen.

Honeymoon in Alpha Centauri. Also Maldives. Also everywhere where they’ve met over the 6 thousand years. This time not needing to hide or worry or pretend.

They celebrate everything.

They renovate their cottage and Aziraphale discovers Crowley is very DIY and he doesn’t mind at all seeing him dirty and sweaty without a T-shirt. Sometimes he breaks things on purpose.

Crowley knows.

Bentley has her garage. She’s very happy.

The cottage is yellow. Of course.

Christmas Tree has a star on top of it.

Their garden wins all the village awards.

Their baking is talked about by everyone.

Aziraphale has a huge library at home and he doesn’t need to worry about anyone taking his books anymore.

Crowley has plants all over the house and he doesn’t need to scream at them anymore because they’re growing beautifully from the pure love and happiness at home.

He takes care of the garden and Bentley. He buys another car and works on it as his hobby.

They join car shows.

They know all little cafes and restaurants everywhere.

Aziraphale writes his own novel. It’s really good. Crowley just ensures it definitely is talked about everywhere.

They visit Soho whenever they feel like shopping.

They always build a snowman when it snows.

And they spend evenings either on a date, on holiday, or in front of the cracking fire, within comfortable blankets and pillows, drinking, snacking, reading, watching movies and their favourite tv shows.

Everything is perfect.

Before, during, after

Hot take but I don't want AziCrow to have been "made" for each other. I want them to choose each other. Over and over again. Before The Beginning, Eden, The Arrangement, Armageddidn't, and on and on. I want them to never stop choosing each other but I want it to be a choice.

I got randomly recommended this video by YT and wrote a ginormous comment in response because I have no self control, apparently, so I thought I might as well also share my thoughts here in regard to whatever is going with THIS FUCKING SMILE

(under a cut to not clog y'alls dashboards)

(the first part of the comment here is a direct response to some of the ideas put forth in the video, it is very short so give it a quick watch for more context if you want)

Imo it's not necessary to look into overcomplicated theories that rely too much on off screen shenanigans to explain the smile, for how amusing the idea of them having swapped during the kiss is (like, the kind of stuff I won't want to be actually canon, but I'll be very happy to see explored in fan fics lol)

I think to fully explain that smile we have to take in consideration multiple factors:

This show is very purposeful in what it does and doesn't, well... show. That last shot is very long and I think the fact that Aziraphale's and Crowley's expressions in the aftermath of their disastrous break up is shown in such a manner tells us a LOT about the state of mind they might be at the start of S3, and the obstacles they'll have to face. Aziraphale doesn't immediately smile, rather he seems to look almost shell-shocked for most of the shot; it's clear (to me at least lol) that the quiet ride up the elevator is finally giving him some desperately needed time to fully digest everything that happened, because too much has happened in an extremely short amount of time, and we all know Aziraphale doesn't do well with speed lol.

But, for how much he can sometimes be a complete moron, he is smart, and all he needs are just those seconds of quiet to properly ponder on everything, on the choices made and the ramifications of said choices, and that's how we get to smile-- I'll delve into what I think Aziraphale is going through in his mind in more details later, because I also think it's necessary to focus a bit on Crowley's own expression, since the both of them are so intrinsically linked that the narrative cannot make sense without taking the both of them into account.

Crowley's expression is much more static and doesn't change the way Aziraphale's does; he looks profoundly tired in ways we've never seen him before. I don't think he's giving up on Aziraphale, and I fully believe the fact that he stood there and waited for Aziraphale to disappear in the elevator, the both of them sharing that last look, was a quiet message: He'll never give up on Aziraphale, he'll be there, waiting. But wait is all he can do for Aziraphale, now, because he can't follow where Aziraphale is going.

For how messy and full of heightened emotions the confession + kiss are, I think actually denying Aziraphale's request was a HUGE step forward for Crowley's character. He's never been able to deny Aziraphale, he always went back to him after every fight, and we all know how stupidly whipped for Aziraphale he is and how he'd empty the ocean with a spoon if Aziraphale asked him nicely-- But to actually put his foot down and say "no, I cannot do this for you" when asked to all but renounce the person he is now? Especially with how Aziraphale is all but begging him openly? That's a huge step, and something I think Crowley desperately needs to mature as a person (or, well, person-shaped being). We all love how Aziraphale has him wrapped around his little finger I'm sure, but we also all know that if they truly want to build a strong, healthy relationship they also both need to be able to keep their individuality and to put forth adequate boundaries about what they are willing to do for each other within reason.

Asking Crowley to come back to being an angel when he's made blatantly clear for six thousand bloody years how much he despises Heaven is not a 'within reason' request, innit?

So, yeah, for how heartbreaking the break-up was, in a sense Crowley needs it. They both do. They both need time apart to figure their own shit out, dismantle all those unhealthy habits they had to adopt in order to be with one another as safely as they possibly could while still 'employed', and then come back together with a clearer mind and a whole deal stronger than before, both as individuals and as a couple.

And I think how tired and downtrodden Crowley looks in that last shot is a precursor to this process, just as much as Aziraphale's smile is... So, let me get back to our favorite angel and what I personally think is going on with him.

I think to properly contextualize that smile we need to look at not just the happening of those infamous last fifteen minutes, but of S2 as a whole, and what Aziraphale does in it.

So, what is Aziraphale doing during S2?

At the start he seems to be more or less comfortably settled in his current life; he's as happy as ever doing what he's always done, enjoying humanity's creativity with his books and his music and his food and drinks, seemingly content to be puttering about in his bookshop (which is a stark contrast with Crowley's homelessness and his kinda adrift and depressed attitude). Of course then Jim!Gabriel throws a wrench right into that, but imo I think there was a lot more going on behind the facade of Aziraphale's well ingrained habits.

Sure, he still has all of his familiar comforts and his routine, but from the moment we see him interact with Crowley I saw a deep restlessness emerge in him: The panicked look he launches Crowley when Nina asks him about his 'naked man friend', the way he speaks with Crowley with all those 'our' he uses, the blatant way he keeps reaching over and touching Crowley-- To me that suggests that Aziraphale is clearly not as happy as he seems to be on a superficial glance. He clearly wants more with Crowley, wants to bring their relationship to the next step, but because the both of them are so deeply entrenched in their unhealthy coping mechanisms and habits and their inability to openly communicate it doesn't even occur to Aziraphale to just... You know. Take the first step, actually say something about it. So he just keeps throwing bait after bait in the water, hoping Crowley will bite and be the one taking the initiative as he's always done, finally allowing Aziraphale to accept said initiative, this time around.

Of course, we all see that Crowley doesn't take any first step, which is probably something deeply frustrating for Aziraphale at a subconscious level. That's how we get the ball; sure, on the face of it it was Aziraphale's way to make Nina and Maggie fall in love, but... Was it, really? Let's be real, for how entirely believable it is that Aziraphale makes up the lie about Nina and Maggie's love to cover for their miracle is, since we've seen him being anxious around other angels, I don't think for a second that had Aziraphale just stopped and spent three minutes thinking about it he wouldn't have found a way to convince Muriel that Nina and Maggie were, in fact, in love, especially with how 'green' Muriel is about humans.

I fully believe that Aziraphale is not properly thinking during S2, period. He's frustrated by his inability to bring his and Crowley's relationship to what he wants it to be, and that frustration and single-minded objective is utterly obfuscating his thought process. There are plenty of moments he seemed almost manic, imo, which I read as another sign about his 'impaired' (allow me the term) state of mind as of S2.

So, yes, the ball: On the face of it something to actually turn his lie to the Archangels into truth, but deeper down, perhaps almost unconsciously, I think Aziraphale sees the ball as a way to finally make him and Crowley happen. That fact that he's taking pointers about romance from human literature is blatant, and obviously he truly does believe the ball will be THE way to make love bloom.

If you stop and think about it, the ball scene is terrifying. These people are being manipulated to play the perfect background parts to make, what is in Aziraphale's mind, the height of romance atmosphere happen. The fact we get a juxtaposition with Nina's "what the F is going on, am I losing my mind???" rightful attitude underlines this. And I truly believe Aziraphale isn't exerting said manipulation with intent, but rather doing so subconsciously, because he's just so fixated on the idea of having finally the perfect set-up to have Crowley as he desires that he is influencing everything around him. After all, we all know they both have the tendency of making things happen the way they want simply by thinking that's how things are supposed to happen.

And again, he's so manic and giddy when he asks Crowley to dance, his ass is not LISTENING. He literally needed a brick thrown through a window to snap out of it.

So, in the present we have an Aziraphale who , in his own way, is trying to take the initiative, come out with plans. There is a moment that I think might have slipped under the radar of a lot of people but that's frightfully important about who Aziraphale is at this point in the story, and who he will need to become: "I have a plan," Aziraphale said to Crowley during the stare down with the demons outside of the bookshop after the ruined ball; Crowley didn't even seem to have registered that sentence at all, because his mind is already projected forward and going a mile a minute about what to do to keep both the humans and Aziraphale safe in this situation.

Crowley, who loves to swoop in and save Aziraphale, doing what he's always done to keep his angel safe, even to the detriment of their relationship with one another... And Aziraphale, who adores playing the part of the damsel in distress in turn, is actually telling Crowley that *he has a plan*.

That's not something to take lightly, methinks. That's very much just another sign that Aziraphale's individuality is struggling, trying to emerge through Aziraphale's anxiety and doubts and fears and deeply ingrained habits. Aziraphale's cognitive dissonance in regards to heaven, and his shaken faith in God are huge motivators of his actions, and in the grand scheme of things the scant few years he had away from under the oppressive thumb of heaven is nothing. It was barely any time at all in the face of the eternity of an immortal life spent under that oppression, and yet we are already seeing little glimpses of Aziraphale's rebellious side struggling to get fully free.

I think these little glimpses inform us at great lengths about the evolution Aziraphale's character will go through in S3, and greatly explains that strange smile right at the end; in my opinion that smile isn't the smile of someone who's trying to convince himself that he's ok, or realizing that Crowley loves him (he knew already, they both knew and have known for a long time, their inability to properly express those feelings was their downfall, but I don't think either of them has doubted even for a second when it comes to how much they love one another). In my opinion that smile is the smile of someone who is steeling himself for what he envisions in his future; equal parts old-sedated anxiety and yet determination to actually enact plans he's surely concocting in his brilliant little mind. That's the smile of someone who has just realized that not only they can, but that they need to do something, and you can damn well be sure they won't be sitting and twiddling their thumbs waiting to be saved, but they'll be the one saving themselves and everybody else along with 'em, this time.

Just as Crowley needs to actually spend some time define himself as himself, and not just in relation to Aziraphale, Aziraphale needs to spend some time shedding all those fears and doubts that are weighing him down, and emerge the other side someone much more self-assured and ready to do what he thinks is right without all the hesitations that have indirectly been strengthened by Crowley; in a way, by allowing Aziraphale an out with his 'temptations', Crowley had been feeding into those hesitations, and had been holding Aziraphale back from fully maturing, even if not done on purpose, obviously. Imo is very important for Aziraphale's character that he comes to realize that he doesn't need those excuses Crowley gifted him to keep doing what he thinks is right, that he actualizes his own morality properly, and enacts on it.

I don't have the faintest clue about what is going to happen in S3, but I do fully believe the above paragraph is what Aziraphale and Crowley's respective character arcs will focus on. And once they'll come back together they'll be the most power couple that has ever power coupl-ed, and the Metatron will have no clue about what is about to hit him >:)

Such a Gallifreyan stance.

Heaven planned to do a Rassilon on... well, on everyone and everything.

“I need you” isn’t “I love you,” and it isn’t “Yes, let’s go off together,” but the thing is, it might as well be. And it might be one of the more honest things Aziraphale has ever said.

He has never said it aloud before now. Not like this, with eons worth of raucous indignant feeling crawling up into his throat. He had not wanted, not expected to say it like this, mocked by his own stricken reflection in Crowley's sunglasses, each lens a dark mirror.

"I—I need you," says Aziraphale, and his voice breaks down the middle. It might as well, for he's confessed too late. Crowley is shut to him, recedes from him like a wave broken on the terrible bedrock of Aziraphale's futile stubbornness.

And still, even like this, Aziraphale needs him.

His presence, his constancy. His unfailing, tenacious friendship.

Crowley’s kindness, his softness, his solicitousness under the prickly façade Aziraphale sees is just that—a layer that can be so easily peeled away to reveal the deep core of caring beneath, too entrenched to be deserved by any world they could live in. He needs Crowley’s unguarded gaze, needs the way Crowley’s forever looking at him across distances when he thinks Aziraphale doesn’t notice: chin tilted up, eyes soft as marigold petals.

A phone call away whenever anything or nothing at all happens is Crowley’s dear voice; his lovely dry humor; his sauntering, slithering, improbable walk despite which he somehow flawlessly falls into step alongside Aziraphale anywhere and all the time. His hip knocking against Aziraphale’s, casual as anything and yet so much more than. Flashes of black and wisps of red flitting in and out of Aziraphale’s periphery for thousands of years.

He needs their circuitous arguments, their winding ethical debates—after most of which they somehow end up on the same side, that is, their own side, terrifying and exhilarating in its Promethean familiarity—and Crowley’s chaotically-sure moral compass. The times Crowley is braver than Aziraphale could ever be; and the times Crowley reminds him of how brave he actually always has been.

And Aziraphale needs even the great big awful rows, the ones that end in their standing on opposite verges of another chasm of their own making. Because the culmination of such a fight is always the meeting again in the middle. It’s the low sweeping bow of their apology, a ritual not half earnest for all its facetiousness, which says so much without either of them having to utter a word. Crowley holds a whole conversation in the dip of his fiery head and the exaggerated flutter of his elegant wrists, when it’s his turn; and, when it’s Aziraphale’s, the hashing-out of differences is there in the way he executes each familiar movement with the practiced ease of a faithful courtier, though it’s been ages since he stood in any king’s court.

He needs the knowledge that they always forgive each other. Because, well, they do. They must. They will. What’s a spat or a quarrel or even a proper falling-out to two beings like them, to him and Crowley?

Aziraphale needs Crowley’s happiness. His truest happiness. If that isn't the crux of it all, what is?

He remembers the ancient light of Crowley's joy, how it had shone once about both of them like an aura through the blackness of undeveloped space. It never left, all that bright, barely reined-in giddiness, all that frenetic energy, but he's transmuted it, magpie-like, into something else. Aziraphale can sense it whenever Crowley brings him a new vintage record to add to his collection. Whenever Crowley pulls out Aziraphale’s chair for him outside Marguerite's, or orders just what he likes for him at the Ritz. Whenever he drops into the shop unannounced with a little box tucked under his arm, full of gorgeous petits fours from the new bakery Aziraphale hasn’t yet tried, and says, gleeful, Ohhh, you wouldn’t believe all the wiling I had to do to get my hands on these, angel. You’ll have to thwart me for this, I know. But first—no, no, no, first! The only sensible thing for you to do would be to try them… you’ll like the pear macaron...

And of course Crowley is right. He's right about most things, isn't he, after all? Because Crowley knows him, and he needs to be known, but it simply wouldn't do for anyone else to be the one doing the knowing.

Aziraphale likes the pear macaron, just as Crowley knew he would.

He likes all the things that come along with Crowley, really. The fast car, oh yes, sleek and stylishly classic and so very Crowley through and through, though Aziraphale has committed staunchly to grousing about it. The way no companionable silence held in Crowley's company is ever truly silent. The jaunts to the park on seasonable days: Crowley's touch lingering where he pours frozen peas for the ducks into Aziraphale's cupped palm; the fondness in Crowley's tone poorly disguised as he points out his favorite mated pair trawling placidly across the pond. The drinking together long past the small hours of the morning in the back room of the bookshop, where the walls are the same warm ochre shade as Crowley’s eyes.

It isn't ever so much about the drinking as it is about the together bit. How the space between them dwindles with the syrupy passage of time. How Crowley softens and melts into the settee. How he becomes Aziraphale's to watch, for once. How he grows so wondrously relaxed and gloriously at home there in Aziraphale's space that Aziraphale begins to wonder if this will at last be the night Crowley does not, eventually, get up and retreat back to his Bentley to take himself away again...

There is always that fragile little moment, right after sobering up, when everything in their universe seems at the same time to be entirely too set in stone and entirely too much as though it all hangs by one delicate, dissembling thread. Always the split second in which Aziraphale looks into Crowley's guileless face and remembers he could unravel everything with a single tug.

Yes, one sharp tug on the lapels of Crowley's jacket would do it, he knows. How easily it could be done... Tumble the two of them into one another, just then, and they would never be parted again. And his deft-tongued Crowley would lick the heat and the aftertaste of Talisker into Aziraphale's mouth, then, before it had the chance to dissipate completely.

He could. He could.

It's in those stretched milliseconds, brimming with a tender longing so acute it tips right over into an agony, that Aziraphale realizes: I do need all of you, darling, don't I? So terribly much it might unmake me one day. Never mind Aziraphale's most fickle and blustering attempts at denial, he knows this to be true as he knows the truth of little else in the cosmos.

And perhaps today is that day—the day Aziraphale will dissolve and be remade in the permanent shape of lack.

The thing is, Aziraphale does see Crowley. He can see Crowley is on edge, he can see he isn't happy. There are many ways in which he is adept in reading expression and gesture (all those years through dark glasses), and the things Crowley does say, with the indirect speech they've both been forced to adopt. Aziraphale sees him and he knows he's not okay.

But they've switched roles, and Aziraphale doesn't know how to be the one who comforts and reassures. Partly it's because he's spent his whole life being afraid, and Crowley mostly wasn't -- Crowley was always the one saying never mind, they never check, they don't care who does the job so long as it gets done. Now Aziraphale is finally at a time in his life -- oh glory -- when he thinks he doesn't need to be afraid, and he doesn't know what to do with Crowley's fear. Just like he didn't know what to do with it when Crowley first asked for holy water.

And that's the other thing about Aziraphale: he's not okay with not being okay. Negative emotions are not okay. You don't feel them, you don't acknowledge them, you certainly don't discuss them. "Buck up, Hamlet!"

It's his flavor of traumatic upbringing, of course, but some of it is specific to Aziraphale himself. At heart, he's an idealist. Aziraphale believes in better. It prevents him having a fully reciprocal relationship with Crowley or even with himself, because only good things should be allowed, and if things aren't okay, then by God (yes), he will make them okay.

One thing I love about Crowley --never stated, but consistently shown-- is that he is, at heart, an engineer.

I have a few different things to say about that. Let's unpack them.

As the Unnamed Angel, we see his designs for the Pillars of Creation are millions of pages long, comprised of cramped text, footnotes, diagrams, schematics, etc. It's very...Renaissance polymath, in the way it implies a particular intersection of artist and inventor.

Also: in the naked romanticism with which he views his stars.

We already knew he made stars, but in s2 we learn that he did NOT sculpt each of them by hand. He designed a nebula ("a star factory," he says) that will form several thousand young stars and proto-planets, and all --aside from getting the 'factory' running-- without him lifting a finger. We also learn that these young stars and proto-planets stand in contrast to those made by other angels, which are going to come 'pre-aged.'

...I'm reminded of Hastur and Ligur's approach to temptations. Damning one human soul at a time, devoting singular attention to it over the course of years or decades, and how that stands in contrast to Crowley's reliance on, quote, 'knock-on effects.'

Ligur: It's not exactly...craftsmanship. Crowley: Head office don't seem to mind. They love me down there.

Hm.

I'm also reminded of the M25.

The M25 may not be as grand as a nebula (sentences you only say in GOmens fandom...), but LIKE his nebula it's an intricate, self-sustaining engine that does Crowley's work for him, many times over. Again.

That's some pretty neat characterization --and so is the indication towards Crowley's disinterest in victimizing anyone tempting individual people. It takes a considerable amount of planning and effort (and creeping about in wellies), but in accordance with his design the M25 generates a constant stream of low-grade evil on a gigantic scale.

Cumulatively gigantic, that is. Individually? Negligible.

But no other demon understands human nature well enough to parse that one million ticked-off motorists are not, in any meaningful way, actually equivalent to one dictator, or one mass-murderer, or even one little influential regressive. That's the trick of it. Crowley gets Hell's approval (which he NEEDS to survive, and to maintain the degree of freedom he's eked out for himself), and at the same time ensures that any actual ~Evil Influence~ is spread nice and thin.

It's some clever machinery. And he knows it, too:

The Unnamed Angel and Crowley are both proud of their ideas.

(musings on professional pride, Leonardo da Vinci, the crank handle, and 'the point to which Crowley loves Aziraphale' under the cut)

In the 1970's Crowley gives a presentation on the M25, projector and all, to a room full of increasingly impatient demons. Maybe the presentation was work-ordered; the 'can I hear a WAHOO?' definitely wasn't.

Before the Beginning, the Unnamed Angel can barely contain his excitement about his nebula. Aziraphale manages a baffled-but-polite, "....That's nice... :)"

11 years ago, Hastur and Ligur want to 'tell the deeds of the day,' and Crowley smiles to himself because (according to the script-book) he knows he has 'the best one.'

(Naturally, his 'deed' has nothing to do with tempting anybody, and everything to do with setting up a human-powered Rube-Goldberg machine of petty annoyance. Oodles of 'Evil' generated; very little harm done.)

Hastur and Ligur don't get it, of course. That's also consistent.

Nobody ever knows what the hell he's talking about.

It didn't make it on-screen, but, in both the novel AND the script-book, Crowley was friends with Leonardo da Vinci. The quintessential Renaissance polymath. That's where he got his drawing of the Mona Lisa --they're getting very drunk together, and Crowley picks up the 'most beautiful' of the preliminary sketches. He wants to buy it. Leonardo agrees almost off-the-cuff, very casual, because they're friends, and because he has bigger fish to fry than haggling over a doodle:

He goes, "Now, explain this helicopter thingie again, will you?" Because he's an engineer, too.

(It is 1519 at the latest, in this scene. Why the FUCK would Crowley know about helicopters, and be able to explain them, comprehensively, to Leonardo da Vinci?

...Well. I choose to believe he got bored one day and worked it out. Look, if you know how to build a nebula, you can probably handle aerodynamics. And anyway, I think it's telling that this is his idea of shooting the shit. 'A drunken mind speaks a sober heart,' and all. He probably babbled about Aziraphale long enough to make poor Leo sick)

Apart from Aziraphale, Leonardo da Vinci is the only person Crowley has any keepsakes or mementos of.

Think about that, though. Aziraphale's bookshop is bursting with letters, paintings, busts, and personalized signatures memorializing all the humans he's known and befriended over 6000 years (indeed: Aziraphale has living human friends up and down Whickber Street. He's part of a community).

Crowley doesn't have any of that. It's just the stone albatross from the Church (for pining), the infamous gay sex statue (for spicy pining), the houseplants (for roleplaying his deepest trauma over and over, as one does), and this one piece of artwork, inscribed, "To my friend Anthony from your friend Leo da V."

To me, at least, that suggests a level of attachment that seems to be rare for Crowley.

...Maybe he liked having someone to talk shop with? Someone who was interested? Someone engaged enough to ask questions when they didn't immediately understand?

...Anyway.

There's also the matter of the crank handle.

This thing:

This is one of the subtler changes from the book. In the book, Crowley knows Satan is coming and, desperate, arms himself with a tire iron. It's the best he can do. He's not Aziraphale; he wasn't made to wield a flaming sword.

The show, IMO, improves on this considerably. Now he, like Aziraphale, gets to face annihilation with what he was made for in his hand. And it's not a weapon, not even an improvised one like the tire iron.

He made stars with it.

[both gifs by @fuckyeahgoodomens]

If you Google 'crank handle,' you'll get variations on this:

Crank handles have been around for centuries. Consisting of a mechanical arm that's connected to a perpendicular rotating shaft, they are designed to convert circular motion into rotary or reciprocating motion.

Which is to say they're one of the 'simple machines,' like a lever or a pulley; the bread and butter of engineering. You'll also get a list of uses for a crank handle, archaic and modern. Among them: cranking up the engine of an old-fashioned car... say, a 1933 Bentley. That's what Crowley has been using his for, lately. But he's had it since he was an angel and he's still, it seems, very capable of it's angelic applications.

Stopping time. For instance.

(This is conjecture on my part, but, I like to imagine that Crowley has the ability to stop time for the same reason I can --and should-- unplug my computer before I perform maintenance on it. Time and Space are a matched set, after all, and in his designs in particular, one feeds into the other.)

I know everyone has already said this, but: I REALLY LIKE that when he needs to channel the heights of his power, he does so not with a weapon but with a tool. Practically with a little handheld metaphor for ingenuity. One from long-lost days when he made beautiful things.

(And he loved it. Still loves it --he incorporated that metaphor into the Bentley, didn't he?)

Let Aziraphale rock up to the apocalypse with a weapon: he has his own compelling thematic reasons to do exactly that. Crowley's story is different, and fighting isn't the only way to express defiance. And if you've been condemned as a demon and assumed to be destructive by your very nature, what better way than this?

He made stars. They didn't manage to take that from him.

Neither Crowley nor Aziraphale are fighters, really --they have no intention of fighting in any war. They'll annoy everyone until there's no war to fight in, for a start. But between the two, if one must be, then that one is Aziraphale. Principality of the Earth, Guardian of the Eastern Gate, Wielder of the Flaming Sword... all that stuff. Even if he'd prefer not to, it's very clear that Aziraphale can rise to the occasion, if he must.

Crowley was never that kind of angel. He wasn't a Principality. He doesn't have a sword.

...And yet.

It's Crowley who protects. He's the one who paces, who stands guard, who circles Aziraphale and glares out at the world, just daring anyone else to come near.

In light of everything else I've said here, I think that's interesting.

Obviously part of it is that Aziraphale enjoys it and, you know, good for him. He's living his best life, no doubt no doubt no doubt. But what about Crowley? What's driving that behavior, really?

Have you heard the phrase, 'loved to the point of invention'? Well, what if 'the point of invention' was where you started? What if where you end up involves glaring out at the world, just daring anyone else to come near? What is that, in relation to the bright-eyed thing you used to be?

What do we name the point to which Crowley loves Aziraphale?

...Thinking about how an excitable angel with three million pages of star design he wants to tell you all about...becomes a guard dog. Is all.

The thing is. What happened to Crowley and Aziraphale at the end of ep6 is what happens when people aren't free. And Aziraphale and Crowley are not, as demonstrated by the events of s2, free. They do not have autonomy. Crowley can be taken to hell in a swarm of flies at a Duke's whim. Aziraphale can be "erased" from existence with a book.

They do not own themselves.

All other freedoms are forfeit if you do not own yourself.

So no, I don't think "give me coffee or give me death" necessarily means anything other than:

A choice between anything and death is not actually a choice.

I think what really happened to Crowley and Aziraphale, and why they couldn't be together anymore, is that there was no choice for either of them to make that would have kept them together. Because choosing to tell heaven and hell to f*ck off so they can stay together is the secret third option that neither of them brings up in the final fifteen because guess what? They know they aren't free. They know.

Crowley has a bad habit of being the architect of his own misery.

From what he's sure was Earth's first (and, in his opinion, worst) hangover, to shutting down London's mobile networks only to have to make an urgent call himself, or purchasing the cheapest plant mister and using it in a bluff only to have it leak giving the damn game away, Crowley is frequently frustrated and frequently so at himself.

Now is no different.

He's sitting alone in his car (it still smells like angel and yellow and good lord he didn't know he could be this miserable) with only his plants for company and running through the last few days in his mind and wondering exactly where he cocked the whole thing up.

There was progress, he's sure of it. There were touches, moreso than usual. Hell, he thought he was going to drag the angel off to, well, somewhere, when they were at the pub and he just oh so casually placed his hand over Crowley's useless heart.

He can still feel it, those thick, strong, warm hands that even through layers of fabric felt divine and it made him want things. Tangibly want.

Imminently want.

How was that mere days ago? How had it gone so pear shaped so quickly? He went slow, he did the right things, he tried to protect his angel like he's always done. Well, bugger him for a lark considering how all that turned out.

He knows things now, like the depth of commitment Aziraphale had to the almighty and certainly not to him.

He knows what it's like to love and hate someone in a moment in equal measure. Knows what it's like to have someone awfully close but never further away.

He knows how the angel tastes, the love of his damned pointless, interminable existence, but only when tinged with fury and betrayal and desperation. (It was never supposed to be like that, it wasn't). He knows how soft those lips really are and he knows how those hands would grab him and maybe, in the right circumstances, pull him closer and then maybe-

He wishes he knew less. He'd like to know nothing at present.

But there's nothing for it now, Aziraphale's gone where Crowley can't follow and for the first time in six millenia, Crowley is untethered and entirely alone. Not the kind that protects you but the kind the hollows you out.

He had always promised himself he'd never tell Aziraphale howhe felt, would never break that boundary. Now that he knows how it plays out, he can't help but think he was right, Maggie and Nina be damned.

For the original tempter, the being who brought knowledge to humans and defended that with his entire infernal being, he's currently questioning if this is just one, big, awful joke with him as the natural punchline.

Knowledge, it turns out, is a real heavy burden.

I still can’t get over that we got to see this.

GIFs taken from https://www.tumblr.com/flowergrenades/724087820292112384/oh-yes-its-working

The moment he broke into that smile, my first thought was how much he looks like the Doctor here. Because Crowley doesn’t smile like that. We’ve never seen him smile like that: with such pure, radiant, uninhibited joy and awe. Not as himself. The first scene of this season was so impactful because we saw what Crowley was like as an angel, just how adorable and pure he was, full of overflowing love and affection for all of creation… and how much of a contrast it was to Crowley as a demon – jaded, weary, guarded, hiding behind his dark glasses and a grumpy, sardonic demeanour.

But this smile. It’s dazzling. There’s not a trace of irony or snark or sneering amusement, nothing of the sort. He’s just happy. Yes, it’s one of those “pictures taken seconds before a disaster” moments, but he doesn’t know it yet. Right now, he’s watching two humans about to fall in love. Knowing it was him who made it happen. Him, a demon, putting just a little bit more love into this world. And this makes him so happy.

Everything about the way this shot is framed is so intimate, and vulnerable, and powerful. He’s resting his forehead against the window, with his glasses off, and his face is right in front of us, the viewers. It almost feels like intruding on a private moment… because it is. He’s only smiling like that because no one’s looking at him. He wouldn’t do it in front of anyone else. Not even Aziraphale, I think.

But imagine if Aziraphale had been there to see it. He would have perished and discorporated on the spot. He’d have fallen in love with him right there and then, if he hadn’t already fallen in love with him many times over.

I don’t give a fuck if they kiss in S3, I can take it or leave it. The only thing I want is for Crowley to smile at his angel like that. And for Aziraphale to see it.

I wonder, too, I wonder when Crowley is going to know. The six-espressos-in-a-big-cup protective hypervigilant Crowley. Ever circling around his angel, snapping at the slightest threat, shielding him from harm.

When is he going to know that he’s been manipulated, too?

And when is he going to know what role he himself played in Aziraphale’s decision?

There are so many things he didn’t tell Aziraphale. To protect him, to spare him, to give him time. Except, of course, all of that also meant that Aziraphale had no time and space to process them.

(And yes, there were things that Crowley could not possibly tell his angel. The cruel disdain of Gabriel’s words at Aziraphale’s execution is burned forever into Crowley’s mind; how could he have taken this dagger to Aziraphale? 

Anyway, shouldn’t the fact of the execution itself be enough for Aziraphale to know?)

But Crowley’s angel is kind, is bright, never expects and is forever surprised by treachery: Rose Montgomery turning out to be a Nazi spy, a countess turning out to not be a countess. Of course Aziraphale’s sheer relief on deciding that he’s been wrong about the Metatron will be a powerful force. He wants to be aligned with something bigger than himself; he wants there to be a point.

For all of S2, Crowley deflects threats from Hell. (Aziraphale, involved? Unlikely, Crowley says with studied nonchalance. And how do you know I didn’t do that miracle?) Out of Aziraphale’s earshot, he threatens and hisses, as he has likely done for millennia. Remember Hell’s book on angels, with everything it says about Aziraphale, with instructions to ‘avvoid’ and report to Crowley? Yeah.

By the end, there are key things that Crowley hasn’t told Aziraphale: his visit to Heaven, Gabriel’s punishment, what it was that Gabriel refused to do. Yes, there were archangels in the room, watching. Yes, Crowley had rather assumed that Aziraphale is as done with Heaven as he is himself. Still, it wasn’t Crowley’s instinct to give Aziraphale all the information. And after Aziraphale’s conversation with the Metatron, Crowley was primed to go ahead with a confession, was interrupted during said confession—so in the aftershock of Aziraphale’s words, he went right back to the path he’d already committed to. Then, of course, it was too late; the pain became too much; neither of them were thinking clearly, neither of them had the time to understand.

Yes, telling Aziraphale of the danger may not have helped. Aziraphale is even better at denial than he is at forgiveness; he might have refused to see what Heaven needs him for, how they intend to keep him in line. (Also, no doubt a worrying thought for Crowley if he was conscious of it: it’s very like Aziraphale to go to Heaven to try and stop the Second Coming no matter the risk to himself.)

But the thing is, the Metatron remembers Crowley. And he must know how rash Crowley is. How impulsive, and how likely to rear up and bite when presented with an offer to be forgiven for an injustice done to him.

So yes, Crowley has been manipulated. Through Aziraphale: through his angel’s indefatigable hope, through his desire to see the best and redeem what had seemed (but surely cannot be!) irredeemable: Heaven itself. Manipulated into storming out, his heart broken, the pain of that kiss still on his lips.

Into, after so many millennia, letting Aziraphale walk straight into danger.

I wonder when Crowley is going to know.

Crowley wanted Aziraphale to see that he had saved the goats. The way he looks back, how easy it is for Aziraphale to lift the miracle, he wanted to be caught by Aziraphale. We see how well the hiding miracle worked on Gabriel, the crows bleating was more than just a tiny slip up. It was intentional.

It’s the same with how he wanted Aziraphale to say to him that he believed he would save Job’s children. He’s so desperate to be seen for who he truly is in those moments. Even with the fake tough outwardly persona, he wants to know someone has faith in his true nature. Which is kindness.

Something I noticed in the confession is that they don't REALLY respond to what the other is saying

Crowley says "run away with me" and Aziraphale says "come with me to heaven"

Both are saying "be with me" but neither stops to figure out why the other wouldn't want to go

Crowley says "you can't leave this bookshop" and Aziraphale says "nothing lasts forever"

Crowley thinks he ended it.

Aziraphale says "we can make a difference" and Crowley says "good luck"

Both are leaving. Neither stayed until they could agree, or at least understand each other

Aziraphale says "I need you" and Crowley says "no nightingales"

Aziraphale thinks he ended it.

Aziraphale says "I forgive you" and Crowley says "don't bother"

That's the one that sticks.

Heyyyyyy I’d really like to talk more about the ball, who’s with me.

Because for all its glitter, the ball is dark. No, seriously, it’s dark. It’s eerie, it’s disturbing, and the narrative doesn’t shy away from showing us just how much. 

As in a classic fairytale, mortals are being spirited away into another realm to dance through the night. Here, however, we see exactly who is orchestrating the dance, and why.

And we empathize with him, but watching Aziraphale has never been so painful or so unsettling.

Nina arrives distraught and is immediately hit with the realization that she doesn’t feel distraught, even though she knows she should be feeling it. She confronts Aziraphale and he just tells her: oh yes! :) no long faces tonight! And she is disturbed throughout the ball, thinks she is losing her mind, questions and fights the enchantment… but from time to time, the enchantment still takes hold.

And just—

Aziraphale. Aziraphale, you do know that manipulating people is wrong, don’t you? You… do know that? And yes, of course, neither Crowley’s nor Aziraphale’s approach to morality is human. They are eldritch, they are otherworldly. It was Crowley who changed the paintball guns into real guns in S1, though of course, the humans still had choice in using them.

But the ball is still different.

We’ve never seen Aziraphale do anything quite so disturbing before, or go so obviously deep into his own delusion. There are moments during these scenes when even Crowley, permanently frustrated, is very nearly disturbed. (“Angel! What are you doing?” or “Making it rain is one thing, but a BALL?”)

I fully think that by that point in the story, Aziraphale is not all right. He is in an anxiety spiral, denying reality fiercely, obstinately, disastrously, not listening to any of Crowley’s hissed warnings. Yes, yes, he is giddy, he is in love. It’s so very important for him that everything go RIGHT this night, the night he gets to dance with Crowley. Is he even aware of everything he is conjuring up, of the enchantment he has woven? The humans who step through the doors of the bookshop change: their clothing, their mood, their speech patterns… By this point, is Aziraphale doing this consciously at all? Or is reality conforming to his expectations, forcing everyone into a replica of the nineteenth century while Aziraphale himself, distracted and smitten, works himself up to inviting Crowley to dance?

In the first few episodes, as fear and danger grow, as Aziraphale is faced with the danger specifically to Crowley (I don’t see why he would risk his existence for you, Shax tells him in the car), Aziraphale only denies reality all the more fiercely, only holds on to his plans tighter, only puts more force into them and exerts more control (really, rather like the archangels with their Great Plan).

And the ball, beautiful and otherworldly and eerie as it is, is also a dire warning. 

In the morning, it will be Crowley, not Aziraphale, who will get told off for manipulating Nina and Maggie. Aziraphale won’t reflect on this. He won’t be forced to reflect, and Metatron will manipulate him in turn.

There is a plan to follow. The show must go on.

GOD the ball is so dark.