#1601
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pdflayn · 10 months ago
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I HAVE A CONFESSION
charles leclerc x max verstappen
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summary: charles leclerc, born and raised in monaco, a mama's boy, raised to worship the man in the cross who saved us from all our sins. and then there's max verstappen, a man who believes nothing but himself and also a good friend of charles and his family. a man who also made charles crumble into pieces by a mere touch.
warnings: (a bit of) smut under the cut ! mentions of alcohol, religion and beliefs, charles is not a racer in this fic, mention of cigarettes.
note: heavily inspired by false god by taylor swift ! for the past few weeks i have been completely obsessed with it and lestappen are my victims with this brainrot of mine.
Our Father, Who art in heaven, hallowed be Thy name; Thy kingdom come; Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread; and forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us; and lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.
It has only been 30 minutes since Charles sat down but it felt like years, it wasn’t always like this. His mind is clouded and distracted. Distracted with the question of who he worships. Is it the man in the cross? Or is it the man who pinned him against the wall of his bedroom last night?
“Charles! We’re over here!” Max screamed, hoping his voice could be heard against the wild crowd of Monaco’s finest club. It was obvious that the Monegasque did not hear his words, Charles was still wandering amongst the crowd, seeking for familiar faces. Max stood up from his seat, telling the rest of their friends he’ll just get Charles from the crowd.
It was loud. All that can be heard is the upbeat sounds coming from the blasting speakers and chatters of random people kissing each other’s faces. But Charles heard something more than the noise, he heard something calm. “There you are, Charlie.”
He felt Max’s hand wrapped around his arm with a smile in his mouth. He can smell the alcohol in his breath, that’s how close they are. He’s not sure if it’s a right feeling knowing damn well he didn’t have a drop of alcohol yet in his system. His heart was racing, his breathing paced with anticipation. “You’re the last one we’re waiting for at the table, let’s go?” Charles could only reply with a nod. His heart is in sync with the beats from the speakers.
"My god, will they ever stop playing Taylor Swift and start playing proper club songs?" Lando asked irritably while holding a beer in his hand. The rest of the group agreed and laughed. Meanwhile, Charles grabbed another bottle of beer as soon as he finished his first. He was annoyed, unable to sit still. He couldn't forget the warmth of Max's touch from a few minutes ago. They are very close friends, having been together since they were kids. But his touch from a moment ago felt different. His stare, his smile, it all felt different for the Monegasque. It wasn’t right, what he was feeling wasn’t right and the blue and red lights from the club hitting the godly face of the Dutch was not helping at all.
But we might just get away with it
Religion's in your lips
Even if it's a false god
“That’s your third beer already, you haven’t been here for a while. You good, Leclerc?” Max asked when he noticed Charles grabbing another bottle. Charles replied with a chuckle, “I’m good, this beer just tastes good.”
“Anyone wanna go to the dance floor?” Carlos asked excitedly, holding a beer in his hand and in the other is in Lando’s waist. I wonder what it feels to have Max’s arm wrapped around me, Charles asked in his mind. Quickly tapping himself out of his sinful curiosity. Soon enough the table was empty, it was only Charles left.
Charles and Max. In the same table. Drinking the same beer. Blank stares.
We might just get away with it
The altar is my hips
Even if it's a false god
Max chugged his bottle of beer and opened a new one. There was an unusual grin on his face. It was only the two of them at the table.
“You know, we actually didn’t think you were gonna come. You were never really the club type of person, Charlie.” Max uttered, trying to break the ice between the two of them. Ever since Max pursued his passion in racing, the only conversations he had with Charles was the good morning’s and good night’s along with the hi’s and hello’s whenever they saw each other in the streets of their homes.
“There wasn’t anything left to do at home so I decided to stop by. It’s not the usual crowd I like but there’s nothing to lose anyway. Plus, it’s free beer, Max. Who says no to that?” Charles leaned back in the chair, running a hand through his hair, hoping it could ease the tension between him and Max’s stare. He is intimidated, but deep down he loves it. Max noticed Charles’ continuous movements. Charles kept running a hand through his hair, chugging his beer once after every ten seconds, and licking his lips. Max knew it was all because of him. It was an obvious answer, it was only the two of them.
We'd still worship this love
We'd still worship this love
We'd still worship this love
“How’s your racing career? Maman always bothers me with the remote, asking me to switch to the channel that shows your race.” It was true. Charles’ mother loves Max dearly and treats him like his own son as well. They would always watch Max’s races especially when he’s free from work. “I’ve been winning races, I think you already know since you watch me drive.”
Charles chuckled, “I do.”
“Do you still serve at the church?” Max asked when he noticed a glimmer from Charles’ chest when the light struck him. Charles held his small cross and shook his head, “I haven’t been able to serve the church for a while now. I’ve been… busy.”
Max couldn’t help but raise a brow with his response. The religious boy missing church, it’s like hearing about the diligent student cutting classes. He thought to himself as he saw Charles hiding his cross inside his shirt.
I know heaven's a thing
I go there when you touch me
Honey hell is when I fight with you
“Charles,” Max called, earning a small hum from Charles. “Do you want to go somewhere quieter?” Charles smiled and nodded. Charles knew he needed to be somewhere quieter, Max knew the younger was already overwhelmed with the loud crowd. Charles was no stranger to Max, he knew him more than one could ever imagine.
Charles took one last sip from his beer and stood to follow Max leaving the club. They sat down in the cold ground of the parking lot, disregarding the thought that there were nearby benches under the trees blowing cold winds. It was awfully quiet, opposite to when they were inside.
“Do you smoke?” Max asked while holding a stick of cigarette in his hand. Charles shook his head and watched as the older lit up the stick and blew smoke from his mouth. Charles never liked the smell of cigarettes, that’s why he didn’t know why he’s suddenly okay with Max smoking. At some point, he might even want Max to blow smoke in his face. “You’re so quiet, Charles. Are you sure you’re okay?”
He didn’t know what to say. How could he say that it’s him who’s been bothering him since the moment he laid his hand on his arm without making it awkward? “I’m okay, it’s just a bit cold and I have nothing to say since nothing eventful has happened recently.”
“Then what’s keeping you busy to skip church? You’re one of the most religious people I’ve ever met.” Max asked in a curious tone. Charles didn’t know how to answer that question as well. He’s not himself lately, only Max noticed.
“Max,” Charles called. “Hmm?” Max responded.
“Why don’t you believe in religion?” Charles noticed how Max subtly froze from his sudden question.
“What’s with the sudden question about faith and religion, Charlie?” Max chuckled. Charles was already about to speak again, probably to take back his question but Max spoke first. “I wasn’t exactly raised in a religious family like you. My father is almost never home, my mother is also an atheist, and my sister, well, she’s the religious one in our family but we were never really close. No one really guided me in the religious part in life. And besides, I find comfort in what I can see and understand.”
“But still,” Charles started. “Don’t you feel lost at times?”
Max smiled, “I’d rather be lost than have an unknown entity dictate what’s right and wrong for me.”
“It’s not about dictating what’s right and wrong, it’s more like a guide from what’s right and wrong.” frustration was evident from Charles' voice along with his furrowed forehead. Max dropped his stick and stepped on it to kill the light. He gripped Charles’s arm and made him look at him. He felt the younger flinch within his touch.
“Charles, what’s wrong? Be honest with me, Charlie.” Max placed both of his hands on Charles' shoulder, closing the gap between them. Inhaling the intoxicating smell of alcohol mixed with cigarettes. “Max, I-”
“¡Hijos de puta, qué feo su comportamiento!” Both Charles and Max immediately distanced themselves from each other, seeing their friends getting kicked out of the bar, wasted as fuck.
“Ready to go home?” Charles snapped out of his thoughts when his mama tapped his shoulder. The mass had already ended and he didn’t even notice. “I’ll start the car, wait for me in front of the chapel so you wouldn’t need to walk back to the parking lot.” Charles said with a smile as he stood up and made his way outside the chapel. The thing is, he's not headed to the parking lot.
Tipsy. They were both tipsy from all the alcohol they drank. Especially since they decided to continue drinking at Lando’s house after being kicked out of the club. Everyone was already wasted. Charles wanted to be wasted too, but his very high tolerance in alcohol is not helping him. He wanted to drown his thoughts. His sinful thoughts of Max. He keeps on having flashbacks of how Max gripped him and how he sounded when he asked him the simplest question he couldn’t answer.
“That’s enough, Charlie.” Max said as he snatched the beer from Charles hand and moved away all the cans of beer left. Charles groaned, he wanted more. He forcefully grabbed the canned beer in Max’s hand which ended in the worst way possible.
“Fuck!” Max screamed in shock as the cold liquid drenched his shirt. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” Max stood up and threw the can of beer in the nearest trash bin. Meanwhile, Charles ran a hand through his hair and left a frustrated groan before standing up and leaving the room.
“Charles,” Max called but to his dismay, Charles ignored him and went outside despite also being drenched with the cold beer.
“Charles, what’s wrong? C’mon mate, speak up-”
“For fuck’s sake, leave me alone Max!” Charles snapped. “Everything is wrong! It all started being wrong the moment you came back for good. I shouldn’t be feeling like this, Max. This is so fucking wrong!”
“Cha-”
“Man is created for a woman, a man is not created for another man. I can’t have these kinds of feelings towards you, Max. I can’t. My faith tells me it's wrong, but my heart... my heart is betraying everything I thought I knew.”
Max froze from where he stood. He didn’t exactly know how to react knowing that the person he craves also craves for him but forbids himself because it’s against his religion. So he stepped forward, taking the risk, placing his lips against the lips he craves for.
A slap echoed in Max’s ears. He felt a sting in his cheek as he once again froze from Charles’ actions. “Max,” Charles was supposed to touch the cheek but was stopped by Max’s tight grip on his wrist. Max’s jaws clenched, still feeling the sting from Charles’ slap as he dragged the younger inside to a vacant room.
“Max, I’m sorry.” Charles’ kept on trying to remove his wrist from Max’s grip, “You’re hurting me, Max!”
Charles was dizzy from the alcohol but it wasn't enough to knock him senseless. He was aware of where he was. He was aware of Max's intentions. He knew why he heard the door locked. And he knew damn well it's turning the both of them on.
“It’s funny how it's forbidden for a man to crave a man because your Jesus said so. But isn't your Jesus also a man?” Max whispered in Charles’ ear. Pinning both of his hands on top of his head while the other hand rests on Charles' waist, gripping it from time to time. “And you people worship him so badly, craving for his attention.”
Max stepped an inch closer to Charles, closing the gap between them. Not even air could pass through them. Charles groaned at the friction caused by their hips touching. Max thrusted into Charles' clothed self, making the younger moan and close his eyes. Max placed his free hand on Charles’ chin, making him look up. “Open your eyes. Let me see those pretty eyes of yours.”
“Look at you, even your eyes crave for me, schatje.” Max buried his head on the younger’s neck, leaving sloppy kisses and bite marks. He can feel his pants getting tighter every time he would hear Charles whimpering against his touch. “Already such a fucking mess for me, sweet one?”
Max freed the younger's hands from being pinned against the wall and slid it down his pants. Charles’ hands immediately found its way to Max’s hair, tugging a handful as he felt Max’s cold hand against his cock.
“You’ve been worshipping the same man for years now, Charlie. Would you go to hell if you'd worship another? Let's say, me?”
“Father, I have something to confess.”
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dailysmilingnatsume · 1 year ago
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cornchrunchie · 1 year ago
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We talk a lot about how Crowley and Aziraphale make each other smile, and how they're united through their shared excitement about the world. While this is very valid, I feel like we're forgetting about another important part of a relationship: mutual complaint.
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Oh, how much I adore this brief moment between them.
Do you know how much trust it probably takes for someone like Aziraphale to openly complain about something related to his work?
First of all, he is not allowed to complain about anything in Heaven other than Hell. We see this a lot in S1 when he tries to discuss the plans of Armageddon and is repeatedly (even violently) shut down by the archangels. He is an Angel. He works for Heaven, the so-called Good Side. Everything he does, he should do with delight. Being unhappy about a task? Not wanting to do something, let alone disagree with it? It’s just not on.
Second of all, the way Aziraphale says it, he is expecting a certain reaction from Crowley, an affirming one, that is. He is saying it in a way that is asking: “Isn’t that awful?” He is not afraid to be judged, rather the opposite: He believes that Crowley will show him sympathy. And most amazingly, Crowley does.
Not only does Aziraphale trust Crowley enough to complain about something and communicate negative emotions about his work, but he also knows Crowley well enough to anticipate his understanding. He makes himself vulnerable and is rewarded with validation in return.
Even if this was already part of Crowley’s plan to speak about The Agreement, Aziraphale wouldn’t know it. And if we're honest, it doesn't really matter. He trusts Crowley because Crowley deserves his trust.
Sure, getting excited about the same things is fun. But additionally, being able to complain to somebody and knowing that they will be on your side, building a foundation of mutual trust by shared dislike?
Damn. That truly is some love right there.
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chris-tarrant-official · 2 months ago
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artschoolglasses · 2 years ago
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Alcibiades Interrupting the Symposium, Peter Paul Rubens, 1601-02
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emilypren-tiss · 2 years ago
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s16e01 - "Just Getting Started"
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lickthecowhappy · 5 months ago
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careful
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Finally made it. This is the second picture from my project telling a story of what Crowley dreamt could have happened, though of course it hadn't untill the post Armagedon times.
This is a censored version of the artwork.
To see a more exlicit one and many other cool stuff, support me on Patreon
This print will soon be selling in my Etsy store, so go follow me there not yo miss it!
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tippysattic · 6 months ago
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Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Simplicity Fabric Flowers Sewing Pattern.
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famousborntoday · 8 months ago
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Antoine Daniel was a French Jesuit missionary in North America, at Sainte-Marie among the Hurons, and one of the eight Canadian Martyrs.
Link: Antoine Daniel
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my-chaos-radio · 8 months ago
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Release: September 4, 1980
Lyrics:
There'll be no strings to bind your hands
Not if my love can't bind your heart
There's no need to take a stand
For it was I who chose to start
I see no need to take me home
I'm old enough to face the dawn
Just call me angel of the morning, angel
Just touch my cheek before you leave me, baby
Just call me angel of the morning, angel
Then slowly turn away from me
Maybe the sun's light will be dim
And it won't matter anyhow
If morning's echo says we've sinned
Well, it was what I wanted now
And if we're victims of the night
I won't be blinded by the light
Just call me angel of the morning, angel
Just touch my cheek before you leave me, baby
Just call me angel of the morning, angel
Then slowly turn away
I won't beg you to stay with me
Through the tears
Of the day
Of the years
Baby
Songwriter: Chip Taylor
Just call me angel of the morning, angel
Just touch my cheek before you leave me, baby
Just call me angel of the morning, angel
Just touch my cheek before you leave me, darling
Just call me angel of the morning, angel
Just touch my cheek before you leave me, darling
SongFacts:
👉📖
Homepage:
Juice Newton
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ineffabildaddy · 1 year ago
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this scene is so sexually charged it's almost embarrassing to watch and i'm really glad you've delved into it so, thank you!!!!!!
You really think they've kissed before? I want to believe.
Dammit, Scully, the truth is out there! *rustles through file folders in the basement until uncovers the correct one and then flourishes it with an Aziraphale-ish "AH-HA!"* What about the other arrangement in The Arrangement scene in S1, perchance?
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In The Globe Theatre scene, it is established that Crowley and Aziraphale each knew before the scene begins that they themselves are assigned to Edinburgh by their respective head offices later in the week but neither of them knew the other was until they learn from one another that they are during the course of the scene. As a result, triggering The Arrangement-- in the 'only one of them doing both of their work assignments' sense-- cannot have been why they were meeting up. We also learn early in the scene, though, that Crowley asked to meet without being specific as to why (which is an answer in and of itself, imo lol), other than to convey that it wasn't an emergency/they hadn't been caught because Aziraphale is relaxed and popping the food kinky Serpent of Eden's favorite fruit in front of him for the duration of the scene. So, Crowley asked to meet and Aziraphale picked the place-- this meeting is an *arrangement*-- but that is then subtly semi-hidden in the scene with some sleight of hand distraction that calls your attention to the revelation of the fact that they both can-- and sometimes do-- do each other's work. The scene about them doing each other's miracles is really also about them doing each other lol. Using past tense by using 'thought' in this bit of the scene though, Scully, kind of says a lot about the reason Crowley wanted to meet though, yeah?
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Everyone so on about that 2.06 disaster that they've forgotten about the trailing-off-verbal-ellipsis-into-kissy-pout that is Crowley for Hell is sending me away for a few days so my first thought was that I want to see you and that I was willing to endure a few minutes of one of these depressing plays you like-- thank you for sparing me the first few acts with this meeting time, btw-- and show up with some love poetry and my glasses halfway down my nose and some big Bildaddy energy and see if I could flirt my way into your bed while you do that thing where you pretend to be scandalized by the thought while eating grapes in front of me because old movie chemistry, us, even though old movies haven't been invented yet so anyway, angel, what if I just pivot this straight into The Arrangement since you were hinting you'd be down for that by commenting on how my assignment didn't seem that difficult a moment ago and we'll see if the audience notices what the scene is inferring that it's implying by the fact that when you look at me, I pout at you *again* while suggesting only one of us goes to Scotland, furthering suspicions that The Arrangement isn't just about inventing occult/ethereal weekends for each other but that it's a sex game where whoever goes and does both of our work assignments gets to be the one to choose whatever they want in bed from the one of us who had the day off which is also why, instead of taking turns as we would if this were just about the miracles, we flip a coin because I live to cheat on the coin toss because anything you want, angel...
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umbriasud · 1 year ago
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Terni 1601, street food vietato nella Piazza Maggiore
Finalmente! Un intervento in favore del decoro cittadino, dell’igiene e della salute pubblica. Il 25 settembre 1601, ll consiglio cittadino di Terni adottò un decreto con cui si dichiarava che “nella Piazza Maggiore non si permettesse ad alcuno di macellare e scorticare capretti, agnelli e “simili animali”. Né fosse permesso a “rivendugli, Osti e Beccaj di ingombrare la piazza medesima con…
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frogsbejumpingincalaveras · 2 years ago
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Hey There Reader,
Taking a break from the existentialism of last week's post, I'd like to discuss a more approachable Twain. A Twain that relishes in naughty hilarity of Victorian modesty. Not all his works were so intent on expressing his personal politics or waxings on the meaning of our own existences, sometimes he liked to make a timeless and verbose fart joke. [Date, 1601]. Conversation, as It Was by the Social Fireside, in the Time of the Tudors, an already quite long title, is one such story that comes from the supposed diary of one of Queen Elizabeth's cup-bearers. But in order to fully appreciate this piece, I think it's important, as with all good jokes, to begin with a bit of context.
Mark Twain was active right at the tail end of the Victorian era, meaning that above all, public perception of the wealthy was what stood as being of utmost importance. How a man, or any royal, but more often than not a man, was seen in the public sphere reflected their status. Whether it be in private clubs, public addressings, or open air amusements, the presentation of the self was the first way someone could portray their wealth, power, and status. Among this behavior was the expectation of manners, which is obviously still an expectation today, but where we may not admonish those that don't strictly adhere now, it was cause for serious dismissal at the turn of the twentieth century.
In the confines of polite company, a phrase that comes from this society, it was quite the faux-pas to relax beyond a certain degree. That is where our fortuitus and literate cup-bearer comes in. Stuck within the gathering chamber until dismissed, this cup-bearer recounts a very graceless act committed between the Queen herself, the Duchess of Bilgewater, the Countess of Granby, Ladies Margery Boothe and Alice Dilberry, any doters upon them and the likes of Sirs Francis Bacon and Walter Raleigh, Ben Johnson, Francis Beaumonte, and even William Shakespeare, the bard himself! A veritable who's who of Elizabethan fame. Mid-chat, one of them rips what is described as
"yielding and exceding mightie and distresfull stink"
which is truly a beautiful retelling. It causes a pause for laughter, but the the Queen asks for the perpetrator to reveal themselves. What follows is a masterful grasp of the language that Twain has always portrayed, wherein each and ever member within denies the offending action. Ben Johnson opens up initially, saying,
"So fell a blast hath ne‘er mine ears saluted, nor yet a stench so all-pervading and immortal. ’Twas not a novice did it, good your maisty, but one of veteran experience--else hadde he failed of confidence. In sooth it was not I."
while Shakespeare claims,
"In the great hand of God I stand and so proclaim mine innocence. Though ye sinless hosts of heaven had fortold ye coming of this most desolating breath, proclaiming it a work of uninspired man, its quaking thunders, its firmament-clogging rottenness his own achievement in due course of nature, yet had not I believed it; but had the pit itself hath furnished forth the stink, and heaven's artillery hath shook the globe in admiration of it."
The conversation continues with several more claiming to not know the origin, yet admiring the strength, or offering their own wind breaks to show proof of their own innocence, eventually leading to an acceptance of leaving it unknown. From their the conversation devolves into anecdotes of the power of chastity and the perversions of vicars, all the while still attempting to hold an air of superiority despite their quite human actions. It's work like this that not only shows Twain's deft ability to craft humorous tales, with punchlines that still remain the height of comedy, but also his sneaky way of taking the elite down just a peg or too.
Of course this is a fictional tale, even without the name 'Twain' on the cover, most certainly any and all encounters between these names had at least a cursory record of. But it helps in knowing that even those held in such high regard aren't too dissimilar from the common man. Twain says, 'they may hold themselves above us all, but I'll tell you here that they would laugh and speak of the same crude behaviors we all partake in.'
-Stephen
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viparts-nl · 2 years ago
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cobragardens · 1 year ago
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My Favorite Good Omens Moment:
An Essay on Why It Is Cool and Rad (Part 1)
There's this moment in Good Omens that makes me cackle every time I see it and leaves me full of warmth, so here's an essay on its context and meaning, because explication and analysis are how I show love. I will try to keep my thoughts as tight as possible, but they do have a tendency to spiral outwards, and I am very stoned. Come, sistren, and get nerdy with me.
My favorite moment in the series so far occurs in 1601. To approach it we will first need an assload of context. There's a TL;DR in bold at the end of the Context if you don't fancy reading the whole assload. Key arguments are in italics and bold throughout.
David Tennant gives Crowley a very consistent facial expression every time Aziraphale says something so outlandish Crowley can't quite believe he's hearing it. It's this one:
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Chronologically, we see the Eyebrows of Disbelief twice before my fave moment in 1601: once (above left) in that scene on the Garden Wall that familiarizes the audience with Crowley's face before adding the dark glasses, when Aziraphale admits he's given away his sword; once when Aziraphale tells Bildad the Shuhite that he, Aziraphale, has Fallen because he lied to the angels to save Job's children.
The Eyebows of Disbelief always signal surprise and amusement with something Aziraphale has said or done. This amusement is sometimes at Aziraphale's expense and sometimes not.
In the gifs above, Crowley is laughing because what Aziraphale has just admitted to doing is fantastic and unexpected and frankly pretty gd punk rock. He's not laughing at Aziraphale, he's laughing because he is delighted with him. The only record we have thus far of Crowley laughing at Aziraphale is this one:
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Crowley laughs when Aziraphale informs him--him, a demon who has personally been through the process of Falling--that Aziraphale is Fallen and must be a demon now. As though of the two of them Aziraphale is the expert on how and under what circumstances this occurs.
And yet when Crowley sees Aziraphale's distress--not his fear of being taken to Hell, but his heartbreak and lostness over the fact that his conscience has diverged from God's stated will--Crowley stops laughing, and instead he acts very kindly towards Aziraphale. He validates the gravity of what Aziraphale has done and assures him he won't turn him in. He sits with him so Aziraphale isn't totally alone (like Crowley probably was) as he goes through the loneliest moments of his existence to that point and picks himself up newly weighted with the secret he must now bear.
And after this scene (in canon as it stands thus far), we don't see Crowley laugh at anything Aziraphale says or does again.
And he really has to work for it sometimes. We talk a lot about the things Michael Sheen is able to convey with his face in Good Omens, and absolutely rightly so; David Tennant earns a chunk of his paycheck in this regard as well. If you haven't given yourself the treat yet, rewatch the scene in Will Goldstone's magic shop in 1941 and focus on Crowley's reactions:
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Tennant takes great care to show, with precision, that Crowley is expending effort not to react to Aziraphale's nervous chaos Muppetry and lack of self-awareness. Crowley is self- and socially and contextually aware enough that he knows (better than Aziraphale, at least, which is not a high bar to clear) what's cringe, what's funny, what's ridiculous, how to behave. But whenever Aziraphale crosses a boundary of normalcy, or even sanity, and there is opportunity to laugh at him, Crowley very carefully doesn't react. He doesn't interrupt him, he doesn't try to correct him, he doesn't make fun of him, he doesn't even smirk; he just watches him, as stone-faced as he can manage, no matter how bizarre Aziraphale becomes.
We should be reading this lack of reaction to Aziraphale's social and rational transgressions as powerful positive action. Go watch the Doctor Who episode "Human Nature," or literally any episode of The Inbetweeners, or read or watch Regeneration, and reflect on what it shows you about English masculinity; then consider again the depth of significance in how English- and male-coded character Crowley treats English- and male-coded character Aziraphale in an England created by an English and male-codedpresenting author based off a book written by himself and another male-presenting author. Within its context of English masculinity, Crowley's lack of reaction is not a neutral stance; it is a very fucking loud show of support.
This is not even an inference; it's stated outright in the show. Crowley himself puts it into words 422 years after my favorite moment:
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You know how Crowley calls Aziraphale "angel" because the factuality of the descriptor offers him plausible deniability to any Heavenly or Infernal agents who might be listening? Remember how Crowley is a great equivocator? Crowley is equivocating here, too: he's using the cover of what Maggie and Nina will take as a disparaging joke at Aziraphale's expense in order to make a perfectly sincere statement. This is his genuine perception of one of the relationship dynamics he has with Aziraphale and how he feels about that dynamic. Crowley thinks he himself is quite witty (an accurate assessment), Crowley thinks Aziraphale isn't sufficiently self- or contextually aware to hide how strange he is and therefore frequently says and does mad things (also an accurate assessment), and Crowley is Into. That. Shit.
Okay. Now let's look at 1601.
Chronologically it's been almost 1,000 years since we last saw Aziraphale and Crowley. In 537, Aziraphale isn't willing even to consider a labor-saving working arrangement with Crowley of fucking off home out of the damp of Arthurian Wessex; but by 1601, he's worked (and met, and Arranged) with Crowley "dozens of times now," Crowley says, and Azirapahle does not correct him.
In that millienium, Aziraphale has grown to care deeply about Crowley:
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In fact he may be somewhat smitten with him:
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Seriously, go back and watch Aziraphale here as Crowley approaches and starts speaking to him: he doesn't start smiling until he recognizes that the person speaking to him is Crowley (but he only smiles at Crowley while Crowley's not looking at him).
And Crowley is definitely become smitten with Aziraphale:
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Our man(-shaped entity) is so allergic to work he sets up a meeting to weasel, cajole, or (as it happens) cheat a coin toss to get Aziraphale to do an easy temptation for him in Edinburgh, and then in the same conversation agrees to miracle a play into success because Aziraphale gives him a single hopeful look. Crowley's got it bad.
TL;DR: The Eyebrows of Disbelief happen when Crowley is surprised and amused by something Aziraphale has said or done. Sometimes that amusement is delight with Aziraphale; sometimes it is at Aziraphale's expense. Crowley is aware of this distinction, and when his amusement is at Aziraphale's expense, he suppresses it, even when it takes some effort on his own part, and remains stocially composed. This is equivocation on his part: to Celestial/Infernal operatives lacking knowledge of the intricacies of human behavior, this non-reaction would seem like neutrality; to Aziraphale, who shares with Crowley and the audience the contextual knowledge of English masculinity's utter viciousness, this non-reaction is a profound show of support; and in the safety of support from Crowley, Aziraphale lets his weirdness blossom.
As another meta points out [link if I find it again], we also see in Aziraphale's wordless request about Hamlet and Crowley's immediate understanding of it that by 1601 Aziraphale and Crowley have developed an unspoken, coded method of communication with each other.
Now that we have all of that in mind, here's my favorite moment in Good Omens:
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Ixi of Fuck Yeah Good Omens has even kindly archived a closeup of the aftermath, for Crowley, of "Buck up!" In gif 4, above, you can see that the tiny smile is an involuntary reaction that happens as Crowley's eyes widen: for a fraction of a second, he's caught off-guard. In the closeup it's easier to see that he suppresses the smile and gives a tiny shake of his head, Eyebrows of Disbelief heading for his hairline.
There are a number of things Crowley's reaction could mean and what messages it could communicate (we'll get to that in a sec), but regardless, his reaction is, unquestionably, one of surprise and suppressed amusement. This is an aspect of Crowley and Aziraphale's relationship and characters that I like very much, viz., that one of the reasons Crowley likes Aziraphale (though Aziraphale is judgy and occasionally, unintentionally, horrifyingly cruel) is that in addition to being one of the kindest and most courageous beings in existence, Aziraphale is mad as a bag of frogs. Crowley does not know what is going to come out of Aziraphale's lovely mouth next, but Crowley does know there's a good chance he will struggle to believe he's hearing it, and Crowley likes that.
That's what makes this my favorite moment. What makes this moment so cool and rad, though, is its ineffability. We know from the Eyebrows of Disbelief that Crowley is surprised and amused, but any of several things could be read in that almost imperceptible headshake. Like:
What are you doing? or
Why are you like this? or
How can you be aware that you say these things out loud and yet still say them out loud? or
How has my existence come to this? this moment of listening to such insanity?
each of which is a fair and just feeling to have/message to communicate to a man(-shaped entity) who is yelling "Buck up!" at Hamlet.
But that's only if we read Crowley's amusement as being at Aziraphale's expense. And I don't think we should. Because watch Aziraphale here:
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He's doing it on purpose. He is shouting a hilariously inappropriate, 100% authentic Aziraphale-brand thing over arguably the gloomiest passage of Shakespeare's famously gloomy play--right after Crowley complains about its gloominess--and he is watching Crowley as he does it. Look at his smile! He knows he's being Deeply Uncool, and he is doing it literally right into Crowley's face.
Remember that we just talked about how by this point in the chronology Crowley and Aziraphale have learned to communicate with each other nonverbally through facial expression? So what does it mean when Aziraphale responds to Crowley's grumbling about Hamlet's gloominess by smiling his minxious Mona Lisa Aziraphale smile, looking right into Crowley's face, and yelling at Hamlet to buck up? Aziraphale, in a carefully coded, carefully Aziraphale way, is joking with Crowley. His silliness in this moment is for Crowley.
So with aaaaaaallllll of this essay in mind, what does it mean that Crowley's reaction to "Come on, Hamlet! Buck up!" is widening eyes, an involuntary twitch of his mouth toward a smile, and then, his eyebrows still showing surprise and amusement, a tiny shake of his head?
Once more, with inferences:
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I do propose, y'all, on the basis of this web of evidence I submit for consideration, that what we are seeing here in my favorite moment of Good Omens is the ineffable equivalent of Aziraphale and Crowley sharing a laugh.
Crowley's amusement here isn't at Aziraphale, because Aziraphale is eliciting that amusement consciously and deliberately. Aziraphale, in good spirits and happy to see Crowley, uses his Aziraphaleness to offers Crowley not only an opportunity for amusement, but the opportunity to be in agreement with him about what in this situation is funny. They're on the same side of this joke.
And his humor lands just as he wants it to: Crowley, just for a moment, is caught off-guard, and tickled--
But remember, Crowley is worried in this scene about being surveilled ("I thought you said we'd be inconspicuous here"), and he worries about audio surveillance a lot ("Walls have ears"; "Don't say that. If my lot hear [etc.]," etc.), so he's very limited in what reactions he can show or voice. Aziraphale knows Crowley must be perceived by anyone watching or listening to disapprove of his, Aziraphale's, behavior (just as he must be perceived to disapprove vociferously of Crowley's). Both of them know this.
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--so Crowley suppresses the smile almost successfully, and shakes his head at Aziraphale, minutely, to say Stop. What you're doing is working, you're close to making me laugh, and if I show how much you have just delighted me, it will blow our cover of "just an Arrangement."
I offer three final data points in advancing my argument that what we see in my favorite Good Omens moment is Aziraphale successfully attempting to joke with Crowley and Crowley recognizing that overture from Aziraphale and being momentarily surprised into a reaction of genuine delight before pulling his face back under control and indicating to Aziraphale that he must stop:
Datum 1. Nothing going on with Crowley's face in this moment is accidental. We know for sure we're not seeing David Tennant react to Michael Sheen here not only because of literally every other point of Tennant's and Sheen's performances in the show, but because Tennant is wearing opaque contacts and sunglasses under film lighting and therefore cannot be reacting to anything more compelling than a level-10-lift blur because Tennant cannot see shit. Crowley's reaction is a deliberate and careful performance choice on Tennant's part, and it's underscored by director Douglas Mackinnon's choice to film Tennant in 1/2 profile to keep Crowley's eyes visible and face readable to the audience. This reaction is supposed to be there and supposed to be meaningful.
Datum 2. The husbands in 1601 is not the only moment in Good Omens when we may be seeing an angel and a demon communicate the message Stop doing that, it makes us look too familiar between themselves with a little headshake:
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Datum 3: There is another moment in Good Omens when Aziraphale offers Crowley the opportunity to enjoy a joke with him. There, too, his humor lands just as he intends, so we can use this other moment as a comparison to our 1601 moment. I don't have gifs for it, but go back and watch it, S1E6 49:27-42. Snips below.
Aziraphale says something that surprises and amuses Crowley (he asked Hell for a rubber duck while he was sloshing around in the holy water)--
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--but what Aziraphale says makes Crowley smile long before it makes him laugh.
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In fact, his laugh, though a genuine cackle, is quite delayed, and he laughs only after Aziraphale starts laughing too.
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In other words, Crowley's reaction to Aziraphale offering him amusement they're both on the same side of is exactly the same as his reaction to "Come on, Hamlet! Buck up!" right up until he laughs instead of shaking his head. Here, after Armageddidn't, Crowley doesn't have to suppress his reaction, so he can let the smile bloom; he doesn't have to control his response, so, although it takes him a few extra seconds, he lets the smile turn into a laugh.
But in 1601, it's not safe to laugh at Aziraphale's humor. It's not safe even to smile at him. A single piece of evidence or eye/earwitness testimony that he and Crowley have anything more friendly than the most passing and acrimonious of professional relationships could mean death to either or both of them, and depending on what Falling is like, maybe something worse than death for Aziraphale.
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But Aziraphale is so funny, so effervescent for Crowley, at Crowley, that it catches Crowley just for a moment. Crowley's eyes widen and the corner of his mouth twitches toward a smile.
And that's dangerous. If Aziraphale keeps acting so charmingly mad, Crowley is going to laugh, and they can't afford that risk, so he shakes his head at Aziraphale. Stop, or I won't be able to keep a straight face around you.
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And Aziraphale apparently receives that message, because he immediately eases off. Less than 60 seconds later we learn that he's deeply concerned for Crowley's safety--and that it's not so much that Aziraphale has Crowley wrapped around his little finger as it is that Crowley has wrapped himself around Aziraphale's little finger like a snake arranging itself on the tree branch it calls home.
UPDATE 14/10/23: HOLY SHIT Y'ALL IT GETS EVEN BETTER! THERE IS A SEQUEL!
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ineffabildaddy · 1 year ago
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he did not have to phrase “toss you for edinburgh” like that… just saying
Edinburgh
So, in 1601 Crowley was all like "no point in us both going to Edinburgh to do our jobs, how about one of us nips over there to do both?"
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and in 1827 he was all like "hey, there's this fun thing I'd like to show you in Edinburgh. Let's have a little holiday!"
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One might think it's not about the strains of the journey at all, but about having an excuse to see his angel...
:-D
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