Hi Neil!

"...And his grumpy friend, Mr. Crowley." "The demon." "Oh, I suppose that explains the grumpiness."

Okay I'm still thinking, because it's not the fall that made Crowley angry, not on its own, anyway. It's nothing inherent to being a demon. Being an angel again wouldn't fix anything.

It was the flood. It was the flood, and then Job, and Jesus.

The fall sowed the seeds, obviously. But until the flood, it's like Crowley had a bit of hope that things might be different. And the flood is the confirmation that God claiming to love and taking it away isn't just a one time thing. That they're just going to keep doing it, over and over again. And with the shift from the flood to Job, the only thing that's going to change is God isn't going to say sorry anymore, no more rainbows because we're all going to pretend it's hell's fault now.

Pictures beneath the cut:

There's still an innocence to Crawley in Eden. His attitude is… playful. He's kinda bouncy. His questions and his doubt are like, mildly frustrated at best. Overall, a pretty chill demon.

When he first pops up in Mesopotamia, same thing. He's excited to see Aziraphale, to tease this weird angel some more.

And he is bouncy with energy right up until Aziraphale says "Wiping out the human race." And Crawley goes still.

He keeps falling into stunned disbelief, right up until:

And there's the anger. Humans have only been here 1000 years before God withdrew their love.

Now, Job. Land of Uz. About 500 years later. A much more subdued Crawley, monologuing to goats. Projecting on them like he will his plants, but with a little more sympathy. Hey, at least they're getting an answer.

And then Aziraphale shows up, and even after he drops the angelic light show, Crawley...

Doesn't really move? Barely engages with him? Night and day to the last time they saw each other, and being reminded of the flood can't have helped.

The only smiles we see here are these awful grimaces.

I'm going to skip ahead to Crucifixion. Aziraphale is a little bit on his side now. But what does that even mean?

Crowley's back to slithering up behind Aziraphale in a move very similar to Mesopotamia, but way more stiff. Waits to hear whether Aziraphale agrees with this.

They watch the horrible death of a very bright young man, who (like Job) doesn't blame God for abandoning him. Who only asks for forgiveness for the people doing this to him.

Whose death forgives the sins of those who ask for it.

But still not Crowley. Not that he wanted it or anything.

No, Angel, I am what I am, if that bothers you leave me alone.

But he doesn't. And we see Crowley's first real smile in a very long time.

Just the sheer matter-of-factness of this. So beautiful. Raw and honest. It's a rare gift to write them like that. Love it.

(Not a shipper, I said? Well...)

Thoschei kiss without a motive :O

(hands to u my first writing of the morning) have some weird little guys

He’s getting used to breathing again.

Funny thing about coming back from the dead in a body that resists it, that would rather burn than focus on the beating of its own hearts: it was hard to remember he needed air. Hunger came much easier.

This body is alive now. A little radiation can be good for you, under the right circumstances. Even better with a taste of fate derailed and a glimpse of the Doctor’s wide-eyed shock, as if he was the only one who got to break the rules of time.

Hunger lingers. Hunger transforms. He’s growing restless inside the TARDIS’s walls. Not a prisoner — the Doctor has never been able to keep what he loves in a cage, always sets it free and doesn’t dare hope it loves him enough to return. Not free — where would he go? And besides, the Doctor can barely fly the TARDIS on his own. What if he went and crashed into a moon and forgot to regenerate because the whole ordeal was so humiliating? The Master can’t leave him.

The Doctor can’t look at him, most days. Others, he can’t look away. He’s bad for conversation whether he’s guilty or enraptured.

So the Master takes up sneaking into his room while he’s asleep. The Doctor would at least lock his door if he didn’t want it to happen, not that any lock would keep the Master out for long. The Doctor sleeps in awkward bursts, a familiar pattern that he’s never grown out of and the Master has always had to deal with. At least he manages to get into his own bed these days before passing out.

The Master perches over him. He watches the Doctor breathe and matches him. He doesn’t make a sound.

He’s bold enough to touch when the Doctor is deeply unconscious. He slides a hand over the Doctor’s chest and feels one heart, then the other, so slow and peaceful. Not like the humans he plays around with their jabbering single heartbeats, too fast and too loud.

He raises his hand to the Doctor’s throat. He likes this body’s neck. His hand fits so well around it. It would have been a shame to let the Doctor regenerate into someone that the Master’s hands might not belong on. His lazy pulse beats below the Master’s fingers, and his breaths echo from the Master’s own lips.

Up again, to his mouth, to feel the air pass back and forth.

He doesn’t think. He takes.

The Doctor’s mouth is slack and warm.

And then, his hand is in the Master’s hair before he can react, keeping him still and close.

When he’s allowed to pull back, the Doctor is watching him. He doesn’t move, doesn’t panic, as comfortable as before. The Master wonders how many times the Doctor’s been playing at sleep to lure him in.

“I thought you came in here to kill me, the first time,” the Doctor says calmly. “I prefer this.”

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

Oh, I remember how that phrase made me stop and do a double take. What?! Aziraphale never calls Crowley just to… talk? We thought they'd moved on in the time since S1, but instead they're stuck in some sort of suspended limbo. It was jarring, but I let it pass (although I shouldn't have, because it turned out to be so revealing).

I was discussing this with some friends and thought I would share with you guys.

Sure, that final episode was probably the saddest thing since the creation of the all-denim look back in the late 90's ( and I don't mean sad as it being bad but as it being sad sad). But I think it really paints a great journey for the next season for a lot of reasons but the one I'm gonna be talking is:

Aziraphale takes Crowley for granted.

Now, I don't mean this in a bad way. I think most of us have also taken the people we love the most for granted. I see that happen mostly with families: we argue a lot, we can be so cruel to them sometimes, but we feel more comfortable doing that to them than with other people because we believe they'll love us and be there no matter what.

Now, throughout both seasons we've seen innumerous moments from Aziraphale that show us precisely that.

Crowley has rescued Aziraphale too many times to count. Aziraphale himself has revealed that, in a way, he lets him rescue him because "it makes him so happy." This season Crowley has also said to Aziraphale during the whole demon attack, before he came out of the bookshop, something along the lines of "I'll come back, I'm not leaving you on your own." and when he takes Maggie and Nina out of the bookshop later he asks "Can you handle this?".

Then there's also their disagreements. I get the feeling that, because they've had so many throughout the ages and everything ends up alright in the end, Aziraphale knows Crowley will come back to him eventually after they argue.

At the scene in the coffee shop, Crowley tells Aziraphale that he calls either because he's bored, he did something clever he wants to share before he pops, or something's wrong (which in a way also shows that Crowley can't believe that Aziraphale does that simply because he matters so much to him, but I digress). Aziraphale knows that no matter the reason, Crowley is always gonna answer his calls, he's always gonna be there to listen to him.

On the other hand, Crowley has become increasingly dependent on Aziraphale. He is miserable when they are angry at each other, he's happier when he's with Aziraphale and he has come to a point where he can't say no to the angel. And this only fuels Aziraphale's behaviour and vice versa.

In the last episode we see Crowley saying no. Aziraphale seems to not really take it that seriously and keeps on talking about it and trying to convince him of coming with him. Crowley keeps saying no. Aziraphale sort of behaves like he knows that eventually Crowley will say yes. Crowley keeps saying no. Now Aziraphale is getting frustrated because this isn't how things usually go. And then Crowley says his final no and goes away.

This isn't how it usually goes. I mean, yes, they have gone their own separate ways before and Crowley always comes back but Aziraphale knows this time is final. It feels final.

That being said, they need to grow. They need to grow on their own so they can then grow together.

Both of these lovely idiots who I hold very dearly to my heart need to learn about all this on their own so then, when they get back together, and yes they will, but I'm sure it will be way more meaningful this time, they can love each other better.

I'm seeing some confusion out and about over the title A Companion to Owls (generally along the lines of 'what have owls got to do with it???'), so I'd like to offer my interpretation (with a general disclaimer that the Bible and particularly the Old Testament are damn complicated and I'm not able to address every nuance in a fandom tumblr post, okay? Okay):

It's a phrase taken from the Book of Job. Here's the quote in full (King James version):

When I looked for good, then evil came unto me: and when I waited for light, there came darkness. My bowels boiled, and rested not: the days of affliction prevented me. I went mourning without the sun: I stood up, and I cried in the congregation. I am a brother to dragons, and a companion to owls. --(Job 30:29)

Job is describing the depths of his grief, but also, with that last line, his position in the web of providence.

Throughout the Old Testament, owls are a recurring symbol of spiritual devastation. Deuteronomy 4:17 - Isaiah 34:11 - Psalm 102: 3 - Jeremiah 50: 39...just to name a few (there's more). The general shape of the metaphor is this: owls are solitary, night-stalking creatures, that let out either mournful cries or terrible shrieks, that inhabit the desolate places of the world...and (this is important) they are unclean.

They represent a despair that is to be shunned, not pitied, because their condition is self-inflicted. You defied God (so the owl signifies), and your punishment is...separation. From God, from others, from the world itself. To call and call and never, ever receive an answer.

Your punishment is terrible, tormenting loneliness.

(and that exact phrase, "tormenting loneliness," doesn't come from me...I'm pulling it from actual debate/academia on this exact topic. The owls, and what they are an omen for. Oof.)

To call yourself a 'companion to owls,' then, is to count yourself alongside perhaps the saddest of the damned --not the ones who defy God out of wickedness or ignorance, and in exile take up diabolical ends readily enough...but the ones who know enough to mourn what they have lost.

So, that's how the title relates to Job: directly. Of course, all that is just context. The titular "companion to owls," in this case, isn't Job at all.

Because this story is about Aziraphale.

The thing is that Job never actually defied God at all, but Aziraphale does, and he does so fully believing that he will fall.

He does so fully believing that he's giving in to a temptation.

He's wrong about that, but still...he's realized something terrifying. Which is that doing God's will and doing what's right are sometimes mutually exclusive. Even more terrifying: it turns out that, given the choice between the two...he chooses what's right.

And he's seemingly the only angel who does. He's seemingly the only angel who can even see what's wrong.

Fallen or not, that's the kind of knowledge that...separates you.

(Whoooo-eeeeee, tormenting loneliness!!!)

Aziraphale is the companion.

...I don't think I need to wax poetic about Aziraphale's loneliness and grappling with devotion --I think we all, like, get it, and other people have likely said it better anyway. So, one last thing before I stop rambling:

Check out Crowley's glasses.

(screenshots from @seedsofwinter)

Crowley is the owl.

Crowley is the goddamn owl.

I keep seeing a post that's like "it's so sweet that Crowley cleaned up the bookshop while Aziraphale was in Edinburgh" and I'm like listen, I get what you mean but that is not what's happening here, Aziraphale keeps his shop a mess on purpose to ward off customers and Crowley tries to alphabetize his CD collection to take his mind off the impending apocalypse but is thwarted by them already being alphabetized. That was stress cleaning and it was for Crowley's benefit.

genuinely something about the first four seasons of doctor who that I really love is the theme of everything having its time. it's explored in different ways - with 9 & the bad wolf arc, it's ultimately hopeful. there's death but then there's life, things end and then they begin, the universe moves forward; with 10, it's ultimately tragic, he obeys this simple law over and over again, bending until he breaks & can't anymore. the mortality of things, even things built to last forever, the endless hope for better, for kinder, for newer... it's real & raw & gets me every time

Aziraphale loves Crowley so much that he is willing to rebuild heaven for him.

He loves him so much he is willing to give up everything if it means there is a chance he might smile again

Aziraphale loves Crowley so much that he will rewrite existence if Crowley can make stars again

Crowley loves Aziraphale so much that he doesn't need any of that

He loves him so much that he doesn't need heaven, or happiness, or the stars

Crowley loves Aziraphale so much that he is Crowley's heaven, or happiness, or stars

They love each other so much that it blinded them, and they never asked the other how they wanted to be loved

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 >:)

A scene I wanted to address, because I think we need to, because there is some understandable concern over this.

So, Aziraphale's first taste of human food... he goes pretty nuts. He eats it as fast as he can get it down. He can barely stop to breathe. And I can see why that evokes the Greedy Fat Person trope for some.

Given that Gaiman is no fan of fatphobia, I'm pretty sure that's not the intent. But I won't lean on that. I'll go further, and explain what that scene evoked for me, and see if it makes sense to anyone else.

(To preface, I'm a fat person with blood sugar problems who DOES eat like a starving animal and has 0 shame about it. So I'm not just Not Seeing It because of skinny privilege etc. To get that out of the way.)

So first off, of course, it's his first EVER attempt at eating human food. The absolute lack of moderation could be explained by that alone. But I think it's significant that it's specifically meat.

Those who are familiar with the Old Testament know what I mean when I say that God is carnivorous. It's the entire reason he was a bitch to Cain and not to Abel. The Abrahamic god was one of many at the time that accepted burnt animal offerings, before later revisions attempted to wave that away because oops, it sounds too pagan. Flesh of livestock was a common and expected offering, and burning it assured that the smell and smoke and 'essence' would rise to the heavens.

With that in mind, consider what the taste of meat would do to an angel. What it might awaken in them, the first of God's creations?

Maybe it's the monster-lover in me, but I didn't see a fat man gobbling food. I saw an inhuman ancient entity of immense power that only disguises itself as a man, briefly succumbing to a primal and Earthly urge. It wasn't comical to me. It was almost frightening, in a very intentional way. Rarely do we see through the human guise in this series, see just how eldritch these ethereal beings really are, especially Aziraphale. But here he is, ripping almost uncontrollably into the flesh of another life-form with ominous music and thunder overlying the whole scene, and a demon staring at him with intense satisfaction and fascination throughout.

That's what I took from it. If I had to guess, I'd say that's closer to the intent. Again, partly from knowing the author, but also from the way the scene is shot. We're watching an angel partake in literal pleasures of the flesh for the first time, taking formerly living matter into his body. I can totally vibe with Crowley's reaction, tbh.