I’m trying to get into drawing more again, and his face is just my favorite thing. You’re all my inspiration, your talents makes me want to do more things ❤️
compare season one Aziraphale, conscientious objector and/or draft dodger, to season three Aziraphale, celebrated military general. join me as I reflect on this particular little kernel of disappointment for a moment
When Gabriel tells Aziraphale to prepare himself for the upcoming war and Aziraphale laments, "I'm soft!" He wasn't talking about his physique. Angels can appear however they want to, and their power isn't based on how muscular their corporations are.
He means he is a SOFT PERSON. As in, not hardened, not cynical, not violent or cruel. He wants to believe in the power of love and kindness. He doesn't want a fight.
Making him an important general in the Great War was such a confusing narrative choice to me. There is nothing in S1 or S2 to suggest he ever held that kind of role.
Yes, Aziraphale is a bit of a renegade, lying to God about the flaming sword, finding loopholes around every rule, all in the name of HELPING people. He wants peace when everyone else is screaming for war.
The most warrior-like thing we ever see him do prior to S3 is when he blows up his halo to protect Nina and Maggie in the bookshop. But A) he was defending the innocent, which is what Principalities and guardian angels DO, and B) it was both a last resort and a non-lethal solution.
I wanted to see a badass Aziraphale, yes. But an obedient soldier? A general? What was that even about??
The comedic potential of Aziraphale loving Christmas in theory but hating it in reality, which gives him catholic guilt/bad angel feelings, so he triples down on Christmas spirit to compensate. He's decking the halls like no tomorrow, he's partidging that pear tree, ohhh he's jingling those bells alright and cooing over the love in the air and isn't it wonderful Crowley, the spirit of christmas my dear, i may have done a little miracle and made it snow in Tadfield, Crowley. Meanwhile he's holed himself up in the bookshop like its under seige from guerilla christmas shoppers, he can't seem to get a single cup of cocoa that doesn't have peppermint in it, 4 children this week have poked him in the belly and asked him if he's santa clause, and to top it all off Mr. Brown has asked him to play the role of Gabriel in the Whickber street Nativity Play.
Crowley's in the corner watching the angel's eye get progressively twitchier and using up his entire demonic miracle quota to make sure Aziraphale's cup never empties of blindingly acoholic eggnog.
Yeah, I've definitely landed on S2-3 as "authorized fanfiction". A fun thing to play with, a way it could have gone, but not the way it definitely went. Taking what I love, treating the rest as ignorable. Asa and Anthony are darling AUs, alongside many other human AU versions I love.
Meanwhile, Crowley is frustrated that everything has gone cashless so gluing coins to the sidewalk is assumed to be a joke, and Aziraphale spends long hours complaining about Shein and the inability to get decent clothing these days, now that he's expanding his wardrobe. They take long walks and long drives and spend long, lazy summer days in the garden behind their cottage listening to birds singing and bees buzzing and drinking gin fizzes and eating sun-warm strawberries. Every year, the first one to hear a nightingale in spring gets to pick where they have dinner (the other picks what they do after). They toast to another year of being an us, and to the world.
Imagine finding out you have 90 minutes to tie up a love story that's developed over thousands of years. You create something beautifully in character and completely on point for the plot. You pay homage to the original writer's legacy in a fitting and poetic way and create an ending that not only shows the depth of two people's love for each other but the wider love they have for the thing that brought them together in the first place.
And then you go online to find the loudest outcry is that everyone hates it and "THEY DIDN'T EVEN KISS!"
I feel sorry for people who didn't get anything out of that stunning finale.
Aziraphale and Crowley, who spent over 6000 years learning to love each other and themselves and humanity, straight up don’t exist anymore. The people that exist in their place are barely even husks of who they were.
The writing was so horribly paced, because it’s clear that they smushed 6 episodes together instead of treating this like a feature film instead of a last-ditch effort to get a finale. Jesus was practically inconsequential to the plot. The resolution and debate about free will is harping on things that were wrapped up in previous seasons,. They had so many ideas that went nowhere (the card game and the new book of life that Aziraphale started writing). The lore was inconsistent (if everything was erased, why does the devil still exist?). There’s SO much to talk about
But focusing on the ineffable husbands of it all— the whole point of the characters is that they love humanity because of their centuries of living amongst them. The ‘choice’ they made was the worst possible option, there were a million other ways they could ask for things that actually made sense. The new versions of who they are don’t have the same appreciation for any of it— the food, the books, space, ANYTHING. They exist only as mortals, rendering EVERYTHING that happened in seasons 1 and 2 and outside of the show utterly pointless
It’s possible to tie up everything in 90 minutes. They almost did it. (Not very well, mind you, but it almost worked), and then they went and spoiled it all by doing that thing.
That thing, of course, being ending the series on a wish. Wish-granting is the laziest way to wrap up a story, second only to “and then they woke up.” I know it wasn’t really a wish, and that they were having a dialogue with god, but ultimately it came down to god granting them a request, and to wish for a world without heaven and hell shouldn’t be possible in that universe. It metatextually changes everything, and it’s too easy of a win. Essentially they asked “we wish everything ended happily,” and then didn’t have to solve anything themselves.
The whole point of s1 and s2 was for them to carve out their place amongst heaven and hell, not to get rid of either entirely. It’s just plain bad writing and lack of comprehension of the characters being written about.
Actually, I'm gonna add the comments I had originally left in the tags and expand further:
#OP talking about “paying homage to the original writer's legacy” made me laugh because like. that's the opposite of what S3 did#S1 already established humans have free will (see Adam picking humanity over fulfilling his destiny)#and I doubt Pratchett would like the idea of nuking the whole entire world because it's imperfect and we might as well start from scratch#the whole point is embracing humanity#“let's make every single person's life as they knew it end without a say in the matter” is not exactly a humanist message about free will
I think it's quite telling that criticism of the finale is often reduced to "just people being mad they didn't kiss"; because I truly believe the only way to enjoy this finale is to not care about Good Omen's narrative and themes beyond Aziraphale and Crowley's relationship.
Because on a surface level reading of the plot, if you're seeing Crowley and Aziraphale's relationship as the sole focus of the series, the finale is fine. They get to spend their life together in another universe, falling in love and growing old without having to hide their feelings for one another.
(And there is a point to be made—like prev does—about how those aren't the real Crowley and Aziraphale, because everything that made them who they were—their memories and their experiences—was lost. And I agree with that analysis, but it's beyond the point I'm trying to make here)
However, if you consider what it means for the broader Good Omens universe, the finale is straight up a betrayal of the ideas expressed by Pratchett in the original material. Good Omens has always been a story about larger than life supernatural beings falling in love with humanity, but one in which ordinary people are just as prominently featured as angels and demons. Crowley and Aziraphale are not the true protagonist of the story, humanity is. This is why the story culminates in Adam refusing to take part in the Divine Plan and choosing humanity instead. The S1 ending is both about how humanity is worth preserving and about human agency. No one, on either sides, expected Adam to oppose the divine plan. Because they didn't understand Adam would have agency over his life and what he wanted to do with it. They didn't even consider he could choose humanity.
The S3 finale expresses the exact opposite message. The fate of humanity is not dictated by humanity itself, but rather sealed by a handful of divine beings that treat their lives as an afterthought. Crowley and Aziraphale are incredibly OoC throughout the whole fianle, but their final wish to god is particularly aggravating. The original material expressed several times that the idea of giving up on people and create "new ones" is not an option, so the idea of the two of them suddenly deciding it's the right thing to do is extremely poor writing. It's justified as a way to give humans "free will", but it was already established in S1 that they did, so that doesn't even hold up. And I know that them asking to just bring everyone back would have been (rightfully) criticized as bad writing, but the solution here would have been to just.. not write themselves into a corner in the first place.
In the last 10 minutes of the finale the writers undid everything that was previously established in the series. Crowley and Aziraphale never fell in love with each other through the centuries. They never banded together to stop the Armageddon. They never raised Adam. Agness Nutter never prophesized Anathema would save the world. Newton never became a witch hunter. Adam never chose his friends and his human life over the divine plan. Gabriel and Beelzebub never fell in love and ran off to Alpha Centauri together. Those lives and those experiences just disappeared forever. We see that things are working out for the reincarnations of Crowley and Aziraphale. But what about everyone else?
All of this. Most of my critiques have been about the relationship of Ineffable Husbands, but that’s mostly because I’m responding to what I see, and what I see is people ignoring the larger narrative to focus on cosmic old man yaoi.
As much as I love them together, they could hate each other for all I care and my arguments would still hold up that this finale stands in direct opposition to everything that was established in the lore until now
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."
Parkour. Xavier huffed out a quiet laugh, staring at himself in the mirror while he brushed his teeth. The black eye has almost completely faded now, thank fuck. He was tired of looking like a raccoon. All that remained was a fading yellow-green bruise along the bottom of his eye socket, and he’d take that any day over trash panda chic. He rinsed out his mouth and tucked the toothbrush into the cabinet.
Christmas Day. A week ago, he’d sat, freshly punched and bloody, in an airport lounge swapping identically fucked breakup stories with a guy named Levi, and now in precisely 1 hour and 43 minutes he was going to be meeting up with him for brunch. He studiously ignored the mess of clothes piled on the bed as he strode through the apartment, slipping into his overcoat and patting his pockets. Keys. Phone. Wallet. Before he left, he gave Captain a couple scritches between the ears.
It was a ten minute walk to the train, and cold as balls out. Xavier hunched his shoulders against the wind and buried his hands in his pockets, belatedly wondering if he should run back in for his gloves and scarf. Technically, he probably had time. It only took 30 minutes by train - supposedly - to get to the restaurant Levi had texted him. He wavered uncertainly for a few steps, then shook his head and hurried on. If he went back, it was almost guaranteed he’d end up on a train that would get stuck in a tunnel behind a bad signal switch or something, and be horrifyingly late.
He tried not to examine why he so desperately didn’t want to be late.
At the train station, he looked around for a second for a cop, and when none appeared, hopped over the turnstile and made his way to the platform, deep in his own thoughts. It’s not like he’d never had a thing for a guy before. There were a couple drunk one night stands in college, and he'd dated Mark for two and a half years before Mark moved to London and he’d met Chloe. Unbidden, a memory from early in their relationship came to his mind as he boarded the F train and plopped into a seat.
They’d been out to dinner, and in that stage of learning about each other where past relationships came up. Chloe had just exhaustively listed all the things wrong with her ex, Noah, and asked him about his last relationship, and when he’d said Mark’s name, she’d frowned, wrinkling her nose, and changed the subject immediately. He sucked in a breath thinking about it now. How had he forgotten? Had the rose-coloured glasses been that strong?
Like a worst-of montage, he recalled time after time when Chloe had seemed embarrassed or annoyed by reminders that he was bi. Interrupting him or shushing him with their friends (her friends), looking cross if he ever mentioned Mark, mocking and disparaging the oh-so-occasional bisexual character in a movie they watched.
I guess I can at least thank Christmas-Tree-Farm-What’s-His-Fuck for saving me from marrying her, he thought wryly, and only just managed to jump off the train at the right stop. He checked his phone. He still had 45 minutes, and the restaurant was only a couple blocks from the train station.
It’s fine, he argued silently as he huddled against the wind again and hurried his pace. Levi will probably just show up on time, and he’ll never know how early you were. Levi seemed like the ‘showing up exactly on time’ type of guy.
He spotted the restaurant half a block away and picked up his pace a little more, tired of the wind. The heat of the restaurant washed over him as he entered, and he paused just inside the door to let his eyes adjust to the dimmer light, unbuttoning his overcoat. The door opened again behind him, and he shifted over out of the way automatically.
“Xavier?”
Xavier turned astonished eyes to the newcomer, now revealed to be Levi, staring at him with a flush creeping up from the apples of his cheeks to his temples. Fuck, that’s cute, he thought involuntarily, and he prayed Levi would blame the cold for the sudden color he could feel in his ears. “Hi Levi.”
Genius repartee, dumbass.
At least it seemed like Levi was having a similar struggle. “You’re early…” he said faintly. “I mean, we’re both early…”
“Table for two?” Xavier silently blessed the girl sitting at the host stand and turned toward her, sliding his coat off and failing to convince himself that his rapid pulse was simply because of the quick walk from the train station.
Levi’s voice strengthened marginally. “I uh… have a reservation, actually.” He slid out of his own coat. “Under Lawrence.”
The familiar bustle of getting seated and ordering drinks seemed to settle both of them a bit. Xavier decided pretty quickly what he wanted to eat, and took the opportunity to watch as Levi pored over the menu, his lip caught absently between his teeth.
Xavier drew a slow breath, feeling a gentle desire creep into his mind. He wanted to reach across the table and cradle Levi’s chin in his hand. He wanted to draw his fingers through Levi’s sandy brown hair, brush it back from his brow.
Levi set aside the menu just as their server returned to the table, and Xavier wrestled his traitorous thoughts under control while Levi gave her his order. He’d only just met the man. They were both very recently, very traumatically single. He had no idea if Levi was even interested in men.
But he had to admit, he conceded inwardly, that he was very interested in Levi.
Just like on the plane, once they broke through the first few minutes of awkwardness, conversation flowed like water. Xavier felt again the warm glow of being with a person who was listening, who wasn’t distracted or disapproving. When he wasn’t frozen with nerves, Levi was intelligent and enthusiastic, and funny. Goddamn, he was funny. By the time they reluctantly gathered up their coats and left the table, Xavier’s cheeks ached from grinning.
They loitered on the sidewalk outside the restaurant. Xavier didn’t want to leave. He was caught in Levi’s green eyes, sparkling with humor; in the bashful, lopsided smile he wore. He wanted to keep listening to the clear tenor of his voice. He wanted to gather Levi close into his arms and trace his features with the gentleness he somehow knew that Anika would never have shown him.
“Do you want to come back to my place?” The words escaped his lips before he could haul them back. He saw Levi’s eyes widen, and hurried on. “I think I’ve got some beers in the fridge, and you could meet Captain. I dunno, it just- being alone sucks hard during the holidays, and I thought-”
“Yes.” Levi seemed almost as surprised at his answer as Xavier was. Xavier watched him take a deep breath, eyes locked with Xavier’s for a long moment. “I think I’d like that.”
-
“Careful on the last couple stairs here,” he said as they approached his landing. He reached into his pocket for his keys and stuck the apartment key in the lock. “We keep asking the landlord to fix them, but-”
A sharp gasp and creak on the stairs made him spin around in time to see Levi start to fall backward from taking a rickety step with his bad knee. Before he had time to think, Xavier darted forward and snaked an arm around Levi’s waist, pulling him back up the stairs and into his chest.
Both men froze. Xavier’s heart was pounding in his ears, his arm still tightly wrapped around Levi’s waist. He should let go. He should really let go. But Levi’s hands gripped his biceps, and Levi’s chest was pressed against his, and Levi’s lips were parted ever so slightly, and for a long moment Xavier couldn’t move.
Captain whined impatiently behind the door, and Xavier pulled in a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “Right,” he murmured, loosening his arm and carefully stepping back. “Come on in.”
The thing is. The thing is, the show is a romantic comedy. The book wasn't, fine. But the show IS. intentionally so. What was the point of the Jane Austin emphasis in S2, all those mirror couples, the ball, the freaking S1 cold open and subsequent breakup... if not to tell us that we're doing romantic comedy? It follows all the beats including a big disagreement/ rupture in act 2.
If you are going to do that, you HAVE to follow through on expectations for the central couple. That's what the audience expects and how these narratives are crafted. Instead, they decided to go "nihilist philosophical" in the last scene with no warning and flip the table on everyone's expectations, and it isn't fair to do that and then say we're the ones who are media illiterate because we didn't like it. They are the ones who set the expectation in the first place and capitalized on that.
i’ve warmed up significantly towards the concept of small talk ever since i learned that its sole purpose is to make friendly noises.
as long as you smile and nod, people are satisfied. it’s just to show that you are nice and there with good intentions. we’re small in a big world and have to rely on other people to be decent to us. so we do our little human dance to each other to say, “i’m not here to hurt you. here’s something we have in common, like the weather or sports or itchy sweaters, so we both know we’re on the same team. we both agree on a basic fact, like that it is rainy or that being itchy is uncomfortable, and this proves we can get along. i’m being light-hearted and non-threatening right now.”
small talk isn’t to get to know a person. it’s just a greeting to affirm you’re buddies in the universe.
i am motivated by wanting the other person to know i am friendly, so i have gotten pretty decent at small talk when i used to hate it.
The destruction of the entire universe and every soul in it is a truly depressing ending. Just because God replaced it with another universe that looked similar doesn't change anything - this is Job and his children all over again. Job doesn't want new children, and neither do I.
and another thing… idk about you guys but my crowley and aziraphale are a demon and an angel, enemies to friends to situationship to almost-lovers, a 6,000 year slowburn. and they were fully shaped by the fact that they are supernatural beings, and by all their shared experiences, good and bad. that crowley and aziraphale have now semi-canonically been snapped out of existence, they have *never* even existed in this universe, they were basically book of lifed, the very punishment that was a threat in s2. and no weird ooc human au can ever be them because what they’ve been through and what they’ve learned is so much of who they are
one thousand percent. We literally had a season about this - was Jim Gabriel? Was Jim responsible for Gabriel's choices? The decision was NO, he shouldn't actually throw himself out the window, WITHOUT HIS MEMORIES HE WAS NO LONGER THE PERSON HE'D BEEN BEFORE.
I think the worst thing is that I agree with both. Everyone has a good point. There are so many ways of looking at this ending. It was horrible and beautiful. It explained everything and left everything unresolved. Agghhhhg I'm gonna claw my eyes out!!!
Aziraphale and Crowley did NOT get a happy ending. Let that sink in.
After everything they'd gone through together, all their history, their love spanning 6000 years, they literally vanished into dust.
Their "human versions" are not them. They met each other in their 50s? 60s? and will get like 30 or so years together.
No sticking together for centuries despite being from opposite factions in an eternal conflict, no developing their rivalry, friendship, and eventually love throughout the ages, no having each other's back despite the dangers of doing so, no bickering, no rescuing each other, no "you go too fast for me, Crowley", no 'our' Bentley, no "angel" as a pet name, NO THEM. At all.
This is my worst nightmare I'm going the fuck back to sleep.
dededos
andulkaphoto
origamiaround
germansingergirl
theartofmadeline
areudirty
