my most embarrassing confession is that the first time i saw aziraphale removing his halo i had momentarily forgotten about halos as a concept so my stupid ass was sitting on the couch frantically trying to organize my thoughts about how and why aziraphale was opening his head up like he was a fucking terry gilliam animation
thinking about how crowley gulps a massive cup of coffee to amp himself up to be mean to a human by playing big scary husband who comes home to find his spouse’s bit on the side still there and has to kick him out
I can write down a few words and make people thousands of miles away, whom I have never met and will never meet, laugh tears of joy and cry tears of true sorrow for people who do not exist and have never existed and never will exist. If that isn’t actual literal magic I don’t know what is.
the way crowley tries to say “you and me, what do you say?” casually kills me. he desperately tries to soft-lob it as if it’s no big deal so that if he’s wrong about everything it’s fine, wasn’t anything, just thought i’d ask. when actually it’s like the equivalent for him of an angel being put through hellfire.
Crowley, a demon, standing in the Garden of Eden next to Aziraphale, an angel, who he will spend the next 6000 years pining for: it’s just funny to me that God would put the one thing you’re not allowed to have right in front of you, like what’s that about
“old friends” is an underrated relationship dynamic because it’s such an innocent boring sounding term for what is usually some of the wildest shit imaginable. it’s always like ‘oh yeah we go way back, we have history’ and then you find out that history includes sex, drugs, murder, divorce, war crimes and The Incident
