She/Her | My vibe = "Am I talking too loud? Sometimes I get overexcited." | Current obsessions: Good Omens/Critical Role/D&D. Married Biromantic Asexual | Early 30's | Possibly NSFW, please follow responsibly
Have you ever wondered why Crowley chose to present himself as a woman during Jesus' crucifixion scene?
This is just my theory, but during Jesus' time, there were strict rules on how men treated women. One of them was that Jewish men would never greet or speak to a woman in public unless they were their wife, daughter, mother, or sister.
Since Crowley wanted to keep himself as low-key as possible (and probably hide his strange eyes from humans), he presented himself as a woman so no one would approach him.
And Aziraphale obviously must know about these rules and still talks to Crowley, so this means that - whether he realised it in this moment or later that day - he definitely knows that he also part took in this spouses scenario.
This has the same vibes as Crowley calling him angel in front or humans.
This furthermore shows that they've basically always acted like a couple and I love it
the “bad guys” in hallmark movies end up always being the most respectful men ever.
because they will find out their girlfriend of 3 years (that they were about to propose to) went off to a random farm in minnesota, hours away from were the two of them built a life together, and she decided to just… stay there without even consulting him.
and then he decides to take a trip to make sure she’s okay, because this is generally alarming behavior, and then sees that she literally fell in love with her ex within one (1) week- and he wasn’t there, but you can TELL that they’ve made out a couple times.
and then she just strings him along for a few days, until fucking christmas eve, when she just breaks up with him and is like “i know we used to have the same values, but i’ve never loved you. mark makes me happier than you ever did. and you ONLY care about work, whereas i like christmas and fun, like a Good Person.”
and then, after finding out his entire relationship was a lie and he had his life turned upside down in a week and he got dumped on christmas, this guy’s just like “ok yeah that makes sense. i only wish you the best of happiness with mark. i hope you guys build a great life together in christmastreefarmville. thank you for everything.”
An AU where two Hallmark Christmas Bad Guys are both getting flights back to New York after being dumped by their respective Smalltown Blonde Girlfriends, and they bond over their shared experiences and fall in love in the departures lounge
Probably he is still in shock. Right? He looks out of his taxi window (it's not technically a taxi, just some guy named Corey who offered him a ride to the airport, because Uber doesn't operate in fucking Tinyville, Bumfuck Middle-Of-Nowhere, Utah) and tracks water droplets racing each other down the glass, because of course it's raining, and his bad knee is killing him.
Levi sniffs and rubs at his eyes and then pulls out his phone and books a ticket back to New York, wincing as four hundred and twenty-six dollars are deducted from his bank account.
And, like, he should definitely be more upset.
He just got broken up with. He was engaged, for God's sake. A four-year relationship… over. Just like that.
Corey says, "Ten minutes to the station."
Probably he'll be more upset once he's home. When he starts packing up Anika's stuff into boxes so she can come collect them after New Year's. He'll have to do all that processing and he'll put away all the pictures that are up and probably he'll remember all the good times they had together and flashes of their relationship will play out in slow motion in his mind. Like a movie montage.
Levi catches his reflection in the passenger side window and starts, pulling his thumb out of his mouth. He hadn't even noticed he'd started biting the nail.
Corey drops him off at the train station and he books a ticket to Salt Lake City and Levi wants to tip him for the ride but when he turns back the car's gone, and it's started snowing again.
He re-wraps his scarf so it covers his ears and turns back. He has to jog—ow ow ow—to catch his train.
Once arrived at the airport, Levi's gotten over being baffled and has started being mildly pissed.
You're obsessed with work, Anika told him. You barely make time for us anymore. Yeah, he'd had to pull some long hours for the last few months, but for good reason—he'd been working towards a huge promotion and a raise and he thought she'd be happy for him.
He'd gotten the promotion, by the way. Editor in chief. He'd tried calling her first, a whole bunch of times, and then she hadn't picked up, so he'd decided Well, fuck it, and flew out to Doodootown, Utah to break the news himself.
He thought it would be nice. Spend the few remaining days before Christmas with Anika and her family in their hometown, then flying back home for Christmas and New Year's and starting 2023 off with renewed vigour and excitement.
Then, of course, Anika told him that she wouldn't be flying back with him for Christmas. Or at all.
Which, well. Okay.
She didn't even congratulate him.
He checks in, and the lady at the desk asks him whether he wants to drop off his carry-on luggage for free, since the plane is very full, and Levi shrugs and says okay and watches his suitcase disappear behind black rubber flaps.
His flight leaves in four hours.
Levi decides to pay the extra fee so he can stay in the fancy lounge, because he thinks he probably deserves that at this point. It's quiet here, though, so he orders a tea and claims a table over by the window, stretching out his right leg with a contented sigh.
There's an empty table in front of him, but at the next one sits a man who looks so miserable it's impressive.
The man is slouched in his chair, dark hair mussed and suit a little ruffled. The cuffs of his slacks are damp, and so are his knees. He's leaning his head against the window, eyes closed, holding a bloody tissue to his nose. A purple bruise is starting to form on his cheekbone.
Levi stares.
Damn. And he thought he was having a rough day.
Should he say something? Probably not, right. Like, that would be weird, right?
Then he notices the small, black velvet ring box the man is fiddling with and it's like all the air's punched right out of his lungs.
Damn.
Levi looks down and takes a sip of his tea, then hisses and curses under his breath because it's still way too hot and he's an idiot.
When he looks up again, the man is eyeing him with mild amusement.
And there are a hundred thousand ways that Levi could have handled the situation, but before he can think about ways to not embarrass himself further he hears himself say, "Ouch. Haha."
Somebody please shoot him.
The man raises an eyebrow. Levi gives an awkward cough, then takes another sip of tea and somehow feels betrayed when it burns his tongue again.
"Maybe you should give it a second," the man says.
"Maybe," Levi says, "I should." His ears are burning.
It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas plays over the speakers.
Levi desperately wants to ask about the ring box. And the bloody nose. And whether there's a correlation. But then again it is so definitely not his business, so he just stares down at his tea and watches steam rise.
There's a sharp sigh from across the table. "She said no."
Levi's head snaps up, ready to defend himself, because it's not like he actually asked, but then the guy looks so tired and bitter that he immediately deflates and feels both like an asshole and an idiot.
"I'm sorry," he offers, which still feels lame but better than whatever he had going on before.
The guy gives a wry smile. "Gonna, you know. Return this. She, uh, said no to the whole relationship. So."
Ah.
"I'm sorry," he says, running a hand over his face, "I don't mean to dump all this on you."
"Oh, no, it's okay," Levi says quickly, and then before he can think about it too much, he adds, "I get it."
The other guy looks immediately doubtful.
Levi bites the inside of his cheek. "Four years," he says with a shrug. "Engaged and everything." He gives a thumbs down and blows a raspberry.
"Aw, shit, dude," he says, sitting up straight. He removes the tissue from his face, and seeing as he's no longer bleeding, stuffs it in his pocket. "That sucks."
Levi shrugs again, suddenly weirdly self-conscious. He traces the rim of his teacup with a finger. "Yeah, well. I didn't get beat up about it." There's a moment of silence, then he sneaks another glance. "Levi, by the way."
A corner of the guy's mouth twitches. "Xavier Ortega."
Levi gives a half-hearted salute. "Fuckin', enchanté. Or whatever."
Again, Xavier almost smiles. Levi thinks—Levi thinks he'd like to see Xavier smile. Properly.
And then he thinks, What.
No, he's just—Xavier just looks like he could do with a cheer-up. That's it. And, well, so could he, really. They're both in similar boats. Although it looks like Xavier got the shorter end of the straw here, Levi thinks, considering his ruined suit and, you know, face. Still a nice face, though. Symmetrical. Strong cheekbones. Dark eyebrows over dark eyes and a straight nose and—whatever.
Whatever.
He just got broken up with.
God, why's he trying to justify this to himself? Why is he feeling weird about this? He's not even gay. And even if he—even if he was, it's not gay to acknowledge that a guy is good-looking.
But, like, it's fine. He's not—whatever.
Xavier has a split lip, he notices now that the tissue's not hiding half his face. "Got you good, huh?"
Xavier rolls his eyes. He looks away for a moment, hesitating, then stands up and pulls the chair from the table between them, spinning it around and flopping back down at Levi's table.
Levi thinks he must look quite surprised, because Xavier says, "I mean, this is easier for conversation purposes. Unless you're fine with the yelling across tables situation—"
"No, no," Levi protests. "No, you're right, this is—easier." He clears his throat and says, "So, what was her name?" before mentally kicking himself, but Xavier just looks at him weird.
"Well, her name is Chloe. We just broke up, she didn't die."
Levi nods, puckering his lips. Right, yeah. Yes. "Is she… nice?"
"Well, she cheated on me."
"Ha," Levi says with no humour. "Samesies."
Xavier lets out a dry chuckle at this, then rubs at his eyes. "Wow. Happy Christmas to us, right?"
Levi raises his teacup and gives a ghost toast. "Merry Christmas to us." He downs his tea, which is at a palatable temperature now, then says, "Do you want a drink?"
-
So Chloe and Xavier had been together for almost five years. The whole story is… disturbingly similar to Levi's whole deal, actually. Chloe decides, two weeks before Christmas, to take a trip back to her hometown, gets pissed when Xavier can't just take ten days off work to come with her, goes anyway on her sister's advice, meets up with her childhood nemesis who turns out not to be so bad after all and also cleaned up unfair nice, and then when Xavier went after her because hey, she hadn't been answering his texts and he was planning to pop the question over the holidays, she decided to dump him.
"She looked me in the face," Xavier says, head in hands, "and told me she was happier there than she'd ever been with me." He looks up and runs his fingers through his hair. "And I mean, sure, we'd had our rough patches, but, you know. We were gonna work it out."
Levi hums. "Yeah, no. I get it."
"So I said, Are you fucking serious right now, and I guess I raised my voice a bit, and then Mr Goddamn Farm Guy comes storming out and squares up to me and I don't even know who this dude is, and I tell him to get out of my face, and he fucking decks me. Like, completely unprompted."
"Rough," Levi says solemnly.
"Yeah," Xavier says, exasperated. "And he didn't even apologise."
Levi whistles low. It's quiet for a moment while they both nurse their drinks, then Xavier vaguely gestures at him and says, "So what's your Christmas Tragedy?"
Levi gives a lopsided grin. "Well. Anika goes home to Middle Of Nowhere, Utah, 'cause she said she wasn't feeling great. Wants me to go with her, I can't 'cause I'm pulling long hours for an upcoming promotion, she's pissed. When she gets back there she rekindles things with her ex—"
"Augh," Xavier says. "Brutal."
"—and last I heard the plan was for them to start a combination bakery and tearoom together. So." Levi grits his teeth. "Hope that works out for them."
Xavier looks at him over his glass, then, after a moment of careful silence, says, "You're allowed to be mad at her, you know."
"Fuck her," Levi says immediately. "Like, seriously. Why even get engaged to me if she was so miserable? Just break up with me instead of, fuckin', cheating, and then acting like I'm insane for going to check on her after she just ignores all my calls and texts and goddamn emails. We were going to get married in February, for fuck's sake. Fuck her." He presses the palms of his hands against his eyes til he sees stars.
There it is. The upset. Figures that it's the saying it out loud that really drives home how betrayed Levi feels. Especially when he's talking to someone whom he doesn't have to explain it to, because Xavier gets it. Xavier gets it better than anyone ever will, probably.
It's not quite the movie montage Levi had been preparing for. Rather, what Levi remembers now are all the moments that Anika said things that cut, or did things that bruised. How she'd roll her eyes when Levi got so excited he got the wiggles. How she refused to entertain the idea of getting a dog, even after he begged. How she'd get annoyed with him when his knee acted up and told him to suck it up and stop being such a crybaby. How she'd give him the cold shoulder when she was upset with him and he couldn't read her mind about it and let it build until she exploded out of nowhere.
Little things that didn't seem like such a big deal in the time, but that added up to something like a balm for the sharp sting of betrayal.
Because that's what it is, at its core. That's why Levi is angry.
More betrayal than heartbreak.
And even though it will hurt for a while still, there's something that tastes oddly like relief at the centre of his chest, cool and welcome like a breeze on a suffocating July afternoon.
Xavier stays silent. After a moment Levi blinks hard and opens his eyes and finds Xavier looking at him strangely.
"Yeah," he says quietly. "Fuck 'em."
Levi's stomach squeezes.
He glances wildly around, trying to find anything to look at that isn't Xavier's face, and settles for the screen hanging from the ceiling that displays flight information.
"Oh, look at that," he says. "I should get to my gate."
"Right," Xavier agrees quickly. "Yeah, of course, so should I." He picks up his leather briefcase. "Where are you going, by the way?"
Levi laughs. "How wild would it be if we were on the same flight, huh?" He stands up and winces, ignoring Xavier's questioning look. "New York City. The 9:15. You?"
They make their way over to gate B9 mostly in silence, a general air of What the fuck is happening hanging between them. Not quite uncomfortable, but definitely baffled.
"So this is weird, right," Levi says, dropping into a boarding zone chair. "Like, really weird."
"Right," Xavier says softly. Then, eyes trained on the huge Christmas tree and determinedly not looking at Levi, he adds, "Cool, though."
Levi is—Levi is a little speechless. "Yeah." He feels kind of floaty. He can't stop looking at Xavier's ears, because the tips have gone red. "Yeah. Pretty cool."
God. Fuck.
-
Their seats aren't next to each other, because that would have been crossing the line from freaky coincidence into absolutely fucking insane, but Levi pulls some strings and switches seats with the nice lady who’s next to Xavier, because it’s an exit row seat with more leg room and he has a bad knee. He tries not to look too pleased with himself as he sits down.
Xavier gives him a look. “So do you actually have a bad knee, or…”
Levi slaps a scandalised hand to his chest. “I can’t believe you’d accuse me of such a thing. You think I’d lie about being disabled?”
“I don’t know you that well.”
“And here I thought we had something.” Levi sighs. “I broke my kneecap when I was a teenager. Never healed right.”
“Ah. Sports? Don’t tell me you were a football kid.”
Levi doesn’t know why he feels suddenly bashful. He always feels kind of stupid telling people how he got his injury; the reactions usually range somewhere between mild disapproval and straight up judgment. “Uh, no. Parkour. Actually.”
Xavier’s eyebrows vanish into his hairline.
After a moment of questioning silence, Levi shrugs. “I misjudged the distance between ledges. Fractured my kneecap. But I was stupid and an idiot, also, so I didn’t wait for it to fully heal before going back out, and now I am a human weather antennae.”
“Huh.” Levi would say Xavier looks almost impressed. Mostly sort of exasperated, though. “You know what, now that you say it, I feel like that checks out.”
Levi narrows his eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I don’t know, maybe you look like the type who would break his kneecap doing parkour.”
“And what kind of type is that?” Levi is halfway to miffed and sort of offended, but then Xavier grins wide and he forgets to be annoyed.
“You tell me.”
It sounds too much like an invitation to be a coincidence.
Levi can’t remember the last time he spent so many hours talking uninterrupted. Or, well, talking to someone who was actually listening to him and actively engaging in conversation. Someone who was interested in him.
Levi can’t remember the last time he enjoyed talking to someone this much.
He cracks a joke that makes Xavier laugh softly, and the noise goes straight through his spinal cord like an electric shock, and then it becomes a game, a challenge, trying to make Xavier laugh like that again.
Xavier shows him pictures of his dog, a wonderfully fluffy brown-and-grey mutt named Captain, and Levi thinks he might actually pass away over how cute he is.
“I always wanted a dog,” he says after cooing over a picture of Captain showing his belly for ten minutes. “Like, really bad. I want a dog so bad. But Anika doesn’t, so it never happened.”
“Well,” Xavier says loftily, “Nothing’s stopping you now, is there?”
That is an excellent point. Levi tells him so.
Then he starts thinking about how nice it will be to have the apartment to himself for a while, and then he feels guilty for being relieved about it, about Anika not being there, and then he ponders how weird it’ll be to be alone for Christmas.
Levi's never been alone for Christmas before.
His family lives in Alberta, and he can't really afford another short notice round flight, and anyway the plan this year had been just him and Anika, and they'd had a reservation for brunch on Christmas day, and Levi thinks he should probably cancel that, and that's just a fucking bummer.
After a moment of thinky silence, Levi quietly asks, "What are you gonna do for Christmas?"
Xavier blows out a long breath. "I don't know. I think I'll try to see my sisters. They live a state over, though, and it's all very last minute, I—we—were supposed to spend it at Chloe's, and I'm not big on Christmas celebrations myself, you know, my family's culturally Jewish, so… I'm not sure."
Most of the rest of the flight is quiet, and a little sad, but also nice, and when the seatbelt light flicks on and the crew announces the imminent descent Levi can't help but feel a pang of disappointment.
The plane lands. Impatience in the cabin spikes; everyone wants to get home, it's the holidays, it's cold. Levi gets up and winces, catches Xavier's eye as he reaches for his bag and hands it to him.
Xavier is gonna call a cab. Levi is as well.
They're standing outside.
Levi shoves his hands in his pockets.
"Well," Xavier says.
"Right."
"It was nice meeting you, Levi. The circumstances were… less than ideal, maybe, but…"
Levi looks at him. A purple bruise is blossoming on his cheekbone, crawling up around his eye. The tip of his nose is red from the cold. His eyes are dark but if he pays very close attention he can tell where the iris ends and the pupil begins.
And okay. Okay.
He might be a little gay.
"But nice," he whispers.
Xavier smiles, looks down. Is it—would it be totally weird to ask for his number?
But then Xavier's cab is there, and he tips an imaginary hat at Levi before turning away. He hands the driver his luggage.
The sharp stab of panic between his ribs takes Levi totally by surprise. As does the fact that when he blinks he's closed the distance between him and the cab and is holding onto the door.
Xavier looks at him, eyebrows raised.
Levi didn't plan this far ahead, or at all. He blinks, feeling rather sheepish, then when Xavier's eyebrows start disappearing into his hairline he blusters, all at once, "So I have a brunch reservation. On Christmas Day. I was, you know, supposed to go with Anika, but, you know. And it would suck to have to cancel. And it doesn't have to be weird, or anything, we're just two guys being dudes, getting brunch." He snaps his mouth shut, absolutely horrified. What the fuck was that?
Xavier's mouth parts a little.
God. Shitballs. Fuck. Abort. "But that would be weird, right? You know what, never mind, it's fine, forget I said anything, it's—"
"Levi," Xavier says, exasperated. He covers his face with his hands. Then he says, muffled, "Yeah, okay. That sounds nice. I'd like that."
Oh.
"Are you—are you sure?"
He must sound really incredulous, because Xavier snorts. "Yeah, I'm sure."
Slowly, Levi grins. "Okay."
"Okay." They stand there for a moment, and then Xavier's eyes go wide and he says, "Wait, I should—hold on." He digs in his pocket and pulls out his wallet, hesitates, then pulls out a small rectangular object and holds it out.
Levi's grin goes lopsided. "Xavier Ortega. Are you handing me your business card right now?"
To his credit, Xavier looks away sheepishly. "My phone number's on there."
Levi accepts the card, hoping passionately that Xavier doesn't notice his hand is shaking. "Okay. I'll text you, then."
"Okay," Xavier says. Then, tentatively, "See you soon, then?"
Levi takes a deep breath and steps back, cheeks burning, and probably not just because of the bite of winter chill. Something in his stomach twinges, and he says, "Yeah. See you soon."
So I understand that there are Good Omens show fans who have never read Good Omens the book, and that makes me deeply sad because--
Like, there's so much depth to the story being told about humans and humanity and the choice between good and evil -- and how that's actually a false dichotomy whoooops -- WHILE ALSO not really being about Aziraphale and Crowley at all (who are, imo, basically there as embodiments of "Impressive Failures" for the purposes of Theme and also Plot).
BUT IF you want to know why I've shipped them since the book-- here's the moment it happened for wee teenage me:
Wednesday (before the end of the world)
So it's Warlock's birthday party. And there are all these children and security guards and also an angel doing magic tricks while a demon is disguised as a caterer. This bit is basically the same as the show, so hooray.
But as wee me understood the characters up to this point, they were still basically enemies who had been in the field together for way too long and knew each other's moves well enough for the same tempting/thwarting of one another to become kind of boring and repetitive and generally pointless-- particularly once they realized that they could, for instance, just live their (separate!) lives watching humans being weird (Crowley) and seeking various sensory stuff (Aziraphale) while doing the least work necessary to keep their respective bosses off their backs.
The Arrangement was borne not out of hiding a friendship or anything, but instead the realization that sometimes covering for one another would just... cut down on their total overall workload. They were, at best, employees of two different, competitive companies-- though in same kind of department, doing the same kind of work-- who discovered they liked to have lunch at the same deli and that their jobs were sometimes distressingly more similar than either was comfortable with.
SO ANYWAY. BACK TO THAT WEDNESDAY. They're not covering for one another with this whole Antichrist thing-- they're now actively collaborating, and they've acknowledged (mostly) that it's not to cut down on their individual workloads, but rather to preserve their identical-- but not shared (not yet)-- goals of Getting To Continue The Lives On Earth They've Grown To Enjoy.
But like-- still not friends. Not really.
Until Aziraphale fucks up a bit, Warlock accidentally gets hold of a security guard's weapon and starts waving it around, and:
Then someone threw some jelly at Warlock.
The boy squeaked, and pulled the trigger of the gun. It was a Magnum .32, CIA issue, gray, mean, heavy, capable of blowing a man away at thirty paces, and leaving nothing more than a red mist, a ghastly mess, and a certain amount of paperwork.
Aziraphale blinked.
A thin stream of water squirted from the nozzle and soaked Crowley, who had been looking out the window, trying to see if there was a huge black dog in the garden.
Aziraphale looked embarrassed.
Then a cream cake hit him in the face.
My teenage brain exploded at this moment.
BECAUSE: there is no reason for Aziraphale to do that.
Work-wise: If he got shot, Crowley would get discorporated, but not die-- and anyway, it would happen in such a way that both of them could explain it away easily to their respective sides (and possibly even be commended for it!).
Collaboration-wise: If Crowley had been watching Aziraphale, and if he'd seen Aziraphale have the chance to change the gun but not do it-- then yeah, probably that would've been annoying enough to have warranted some chilly conversations once he came back topside, and therefore, Aziraphale choosing to save Crowley could've been a reasonable, logical choice to keep their working relationship on an even keel until they'd sorted out this Doomsday thing.
But Crowley was looking the other way.
Work-wise, it doesn't make sense-- and secret-collaboration-wise, it doesn't make sense-- and so it is, overall, really weird that Aziraphale saved him.
But his automatic reaction-- in a blink-- is to stop Crowley from getting shot. And he knows it's weird-- he feels embarrassed that his sudden, unthinking reaction is to save his "enemy".
And the final bit is just a couple paragraphs later:
With a gesture, Aziraphale turned the rest of the guns into water pistols as well, and walked out.
SO LOOK: He changed only the pistol about to shoot Crowley. His automatic reaction had nothing to do with saving a party full of humans, many of them children-- nothing to do with Heaven or Hell-- nothing to do with preserving the coworker he needs to stop Armageddon--
It was all to do with saving Crowley. Who may be the enemy, but he's Aziraphale's enemy. And another part of his life on Earth that he's doing all of this just to preserve.
Which may also be, for the first time, the moment he lets himself realize how important Crowley in particular is to him.
...and so anyway, that's how I started shipping these two immortal idiots, and one of many reasons why everyone should read the book.
Drawn for @do-it-with-style-events Mini Reverse Bang in collaboration with - @therainbowsaltsblog who wrote a fantastic fic to go with it that you can read here: A Night to Remember
1941: Aziraphale wants to thank Crowley by inviting him over for dinner at the bookshop, after Crowley helped him with his magic act. It's definitely not a date, right?
Okay, here goes! Let there be matter, let there be gravity. Let there be everything from pages 11 to 3,000,602 inclusive.
The Angel's lovely spinning gears reminded me of the Fibonacci Sequence.
If you are not familiar with Fibonacci take a minute to learn something new.
Ready?
Focus on the 11 to 3,000,602
11 and 3,000,602 aren't Fibonacci numbers.
They relate to the Fibonacci sequence of numbers: 0, 1, 1, 2, 3, 5, 8, 13, 21, 34, 55, 89, 144, 233, 377, 610, 987, 1597, 2584, 4181...
The 11th Fibonacci sequence number is 89
Random bits on 89
Cool math facts about 89
There are 1189 chapters in the Bible (11-89)
89 is the greatest number of verses in a chapter of a book of the Bible (other than the Book of Psalms).
It's the Book of Numbers - (Fuck around and find out)
It's maybe told by Moses @ 1450-1410 B.C. Numbers takes its name from two censuses (or "numberings") of the people of Israel and is a narrative sequel to Exodus. The Israelites recieved their laws and covenants from God, who is living among them. People complain over hardships and poor leadership. Israelites send spies into Caanan, hear of fearful conditions and refuse to go there. God gets tetchy and smites them- 15,000 people or so, through "various means" and curses them to wander the desert for 40 years.
Overall the book of Numbers "reveals how God reminded Israel that He does not tolerate rebellion, complaining, and disbelief without invoking consequences."
Back to 89
There is no Chapter 89 in the Bible, but there is Psalm 89.
Psalm 89 is a poem about a covenant (promise) that was made between God and David.
God breaks the promise.
It has two very different parts. Verses 1–37 are a gloriously positive reflection on the character of God and the covenant with David. Verses 38-51 are a lament that God not only has rejected the house of David but seems to have broken their promise.
Overall message of Psalm 89 is one of "hopeless abandonment with reminder to God of God’s promises that were broken."
On to 3,000,602
I found nothing.
The "inclusive" means the numbers between 11 and 3,000,602. The calculator my teachers said I wouldn't be able to carry everywhere says the difference is 3,000,591.
I found nothing.
Back to Fibonacci.
The only number in 3,000,591 that isn't in the sequence is 9.
It's the oddball.
The 9th Fibonacci sequence is 21
Book #21 of Bible is Ecclesiastes
Ecclesiastes is complicated.
Maybe written by Solomon in 935 B.C. It's vibe is "Wisdom Literature." Scholars find it contradictory and controversial.
It asks Big Questions.
You've likely heard part of Ecclesiastes before:
"Turn! Turn! Turn!" aka "To Everything There is a Season" by Pete Seeger is essentially chapter 3 of Ecclesiastes.
Ecclesiastes inspired literary influences from Shakespeare to T.S. Elliot. Take a look.
Ecclesiastes is the story of Kohelet or Qohelet (thought to be a man, but the Hebrew word root is female).
Kohelet asks Big Existential Questions.
Can life be positive or is it meaningless and empty?
Excerpts from this article tell their story:
Qohelet lived around the mid-300s BCE, likely in Jerusalem, and his writings are preserved in a book of the Hebrew bible by the same name (in English bibles, Ecclesiastes). He probably was not a king, as is said in the book, but was likely a sage or philosopher. Referred to as the Teacher or Preacher, the editor of the book may have been one of his students. The book is part of the Israelite wisdom tradition – a broad range of literature that is concerned very directly with life, and how to deal with the difficulties and challenges of our existence.
The book of Qohelet is unique in being highly skeptical of the goodness of God and of the value of wisdom itself. Its approach is so unusual that people have wondered how it made its way into the bible at all. His search for answers he tenaciously observes what is happening in the lives of the people around him, rich and poor, old and young. Relentlessly clear-eyed, he does not allow himself to succumb to self-delusion or sugar coat what is going on around him. He is not susceptible to spin.
As a result of his explorations Qohelet concludes that the world can be summed up in one word: hebel. This word is typically translated as ‘vanity’, but because ‘vanity’ now almost always has the sense of being vain or conceited, the true sense of the world as it is meant by Qohelet is not conveyed. A more accurate translation of hebel than ‘vanity’ is ‘a breath, whiff, puff, vapour’ and it refers to anything that is illusory, incomprehensible, futile, or meaningless.
This sense of meaninglessness is at the heart of the book – ‘vanity’ appears 38 times and is the first word after the superscription and Qohelet’s last word in 12:8. The superlative construction ‘vanity of vanities’ that begins and ends the book points to complete and utter meaninglessness. Nothing we possess, be it material goods, pleasure, or religion, can change the fact that everything is ephemeral and ultimately futile. As Qohelet discovers in the course of his inquiries, even the pursuit of wisdom itself is finally nothing but folly and ‘a chasing after wind’ (1:17).
Ecclesiastes says we can’t really control much of life, but the difference between enjoying and hating life stems directly from how we choose to see it.
There are absolutely no parallels here.
The Angel did not just use the Divine Proportion, a symbol of ideal harmony, to build stars.
It's not about Crowley's fall from heaven or insight on his demonic nature.
Not a single parallel to the Angel at the top of this meta or the Demon who described their million-light-year freestyle dive into a pool of boiling sulphur and hasn't stopped asking questions...
Oh, Crowley.
Hey @bluebirdsongs16 head cannon accepted.
*Parts of the Bible are estimated to be at least 2700 years old. Researching this clue is the most time I have spent reading it in my life. I am not a biblical scholar. There just might be other analysis available.
My own personal Roman Empire is the deleted scene from S01E03 (written in the script book Neil wrote) where back in 1800 just when Aziraphale was about to open his bookshop, Gabriel arrived ready to get him back to Heaven "as a promotion" and when Crowley overhead them (carrying chocolates and waving at Aziraphale excitedly from outside the shop) he put up a whole ass performance, with a bunch of different characters voiced by him making funny voices mind you, so Gabriel would think getting Aziraphale back to heaven was a good thing for Crowley. His plan obviously worked and Gabriel let Aziraphale stay on earth to battle his "arch nemesis".
Neil also wrote that the producers suggested he cut scenes like the crucifixion, or the Bastille, or even our beloved 1941 church scene. Nobody actually suggested he cut the 1800 scene but Neil chose it anyway. As much as I would have loved to see Crowley mouthing "chocolates" excitedly through a window at Aziraphale behind the archangel's back, I'm so very grateful we didn't lose one of the other scenes.
Who knows, maybe we'll get to see it later on 👀 *crosses fingers*
I'm reading Gay New York by George Chauncey, which is a historical account of pre-WWII queer culture in NYC, and apparently in the first half of the 20th century wearing a red necktie could be code for one's homosexuality. The author references Paul Cadmus's 1936 painting "The Fleet's In!" which depicts both women and men seducing sailors:
This figure in the painting depicts "a stereotypical homosexual solicitation" for the time, and well...
I know Crowley wears the red tie because he's a demon and is wearing a blue shirt in 1941 because he's "not going to let anyone assume he's a Blackshirt," but. BUT.
Red ties were also associated with queerness at this juncture in history. At least in New York
i tried to write this ficlet four different times but i'm having a day so. take whatever this is.
aziraphale with fake vampire teeth. he loves them. crowley HATES them because you can just grow them angel, this is humiliating. i'm a fucking snake. i have fangs. take those things out of your mouth.
but aziraphale is doing his dollar-store dracula roleplay because it's halloween! he has to wear a costume when handing out the candy to the children!
"oh also crowley here's your costume-"
"i am not wearing a costume."
"you will wear the costume."
"this is embarrassing even for you angel"
(if there's one thing aziraphale is shamelessly good at, it's making puppy eyes at crowley until he gives in, and oh does he want him to wear the bloody thing)
"... fine. but you owe me" "yeah yeah just get ready"
and THAT is how soho gets to experience count aziraphale and his trusted companion, the bat crowley, who looks particularly dashing (and very much not scary) in a black turtleneck with tiny wings on his back. at least his eyes can be on full display, even if just for tonight, and the kids LOVE them so much crowley's complains die down rather quickly. he might even have *gasp* a good time!
(and if it was more about getting him back into the turtleneck than the costume - well, aziraphale knows how to keep a secret)
