#who's to say really

[fala-alfredo-pasta]

You posted Chilchuck. Blocked.

of all my content to get me thrown into the dark realm i can't believe it was the short man who did it

[starship-kitten]

F33L1N L1K3 B0N35

[ineffably-effable]

I put together a transcript of that scene from episode 6 as a writing/meta resource. Notes and descriptions are my own, but the dialogue is transcribed as faithfully as I can.

Metatron: (with the slight undercurrent of a threat in his tone)

“Right, it’s just you and me, Aziraphale, eh? I think we need to have a bit of a chinwag? Don’t you?

Aziraphale: (nervous, but firmly)

“I don’t believe there’s anything left to be said. I’ve made my position quite clear.

Metatron: 

“Yeah, well, I brought you a coffee from the shop.” 

(a surprised, mistrustful glance from Aziraphale)

“It’s an oat milk latte with a hefty jiggle of almon syrup.”

Aziraphale: (nervous smile)

“You brought me a coffee?”

Metaton: “Are you going to take it?”

Aziraphale: (Takes it, with trepidation, looking at it as though it's a test he's expecting to fail.) Shall I?

Metatron: (weirdly intense) “Drink it? (scoffing) Of course! I’ve ingested things in my time you know”.

Aziraphale:  

“It’s.. ooh... it’s very nice.”  (putting on a smile... )

Metatron: "Jolly well hope so. Well, we have things to talk about. “

(Aziraphale’s face immediately falls) 

“Shall we take a little stroll?

Aziraphale:

Um... 

(He looks back to Crowley for reassurance)

Crowley: (*nonchalant) Mm. Go on. They can’t get any weirder. 

Aziraphale is escorted out by the Metatron while tense music plays, he seems like a man headed for the gallows. As soon as Aziraphale’s back is turned Metatron looks back at Crowley with a menacing stare - it’s unclear if Crowley notices.

*the nonchalance is possibly feigned. This interaction stuck me as very odd. Aziraphale’s voice, his body language are all telegraphing fear - or at least unease - and Crowley - seemingly - isn’t picking up on any of these cues.

Despite his previous (possibly feigned) nonchalance, Crowley is out of his chair and on his feet the second the Metatron’s back is turned, his gaze following the pair through the windows, until he turns around and notices Muriel.

Crowley: Oh. You should leave now too.

Muriel:

The Metatron told me to wait, he said he might need me. Me! (Smiles disbelievingly) He might need me!

Crowley:

Marvelous. Have a gold star.

They'll be back soon.

Muriel: Yes!

Crowley:

When Aziraphale does get back, I think we need a little us time. After all this I think we are going for an extremely alcoholic breakfast at the Ritz.

Muriel: Brilliant Idea! Breakfast. Us time.

Crowley: Just us. Not you.

Muriel: Oh. (Laughs) Oh right yes. I can um, explore the book shop.

Crowley: You need to go.

Muriel: Can I- can I take a book with me? I was looking at one earlier, they're like people, only portable!

Crowley: Go for it, here, you'll like this one.

He tosses her a book, The Crow Road by Iain Banks, she leaves with it.

At the coffee shop, Maggie convinces Nina to stage their little intervention. Crowley restores the bookshop while he waits.

Maggie and Nina enter.

Nina: Tidied up? Where's the other one we need to talk to you.

Crowley: Now's not a good time.

Nina: I wasn't asking. There are things you need to hear. You and your... partner have been messing about in our lives.

Maggie:

We're not a game, we're real people you cant just pair us up for your amusement.

Crowley: (mumbling) You were crying and Nina needed rescuing and-

Nina: My relationship just ended, I am not ready to start another one just yet, I'd just be a rebound mess, I can't start seeing Maggie. When I'm ready (I hope) she'll be there. But there isn't any guarantee.

Maggie: There is.

Nina: You're not helping, angel.

Look at you two, You're the hard bitten one, who can't trust anyone.

And Mr Wherever He Is is the soft one who still believes in magic and people being basically good and all that.

Crowley: Why are you telling me all this, I don't understand.

Maggie: That's why she's telling you. Because you don't understand. Because you and Mr Fell don't ever talk to each other.

Crowley: We talk all the time! We've been talking for millions of years. Blah blah blah blah blah. I say something brilliant and he says something unintentionally funny back.

Maggie: You never say what you're really thinking. That was all we needed. It's what you two need as well.

The camera cuts to the Metatron and Aziraphale talking across the street from the shop.

Metatron:

“Well you don’t have to answer immediately, take all the time you need.”

Aziraphale seems disconcerted.

Aziraphale:

“I- I- don’t know what to say.” 

Metatron:

“Well then, go and tell your friend the good news.” 

Aziraphale gives another small, nervous smile, bracing himself, still looking a bit flustered and ill at ease as he crosses the street. He exhales. As he enters the shop, his entire demeanour changes. Suddenly he appears excited, without reservations. He barely spares a glance to Maggie and Nina as they leave.

(Maggie:“We’re just going”.

Nina: “I’m sure you two have a lot to say”)

The camera cuts outside to Muriel and The Metatron, they have their conversation where he’s weirdly encouraging about her reading a book before he turns back to look at the shop.

The camera returns to the inside of the bookshop. Crowley is a bundle of nervous energy while Aziraphale is practically bouncing with ill-contained excitement.

Crowley: “Look, I suppose, um... I’ve got something to say...”

Camera swings back to Aziraphale whose face is excited but whose hands are making hushing gestures, he glances back over his shoulder and - to me at least-  he looks a little nervous again but still excited.

“... I know we ought to be talking about... it’s probably best if I start off doing all the talking,  you do all the listening, `cause if I don’t start talking now, I won’t ever start talking, right? Yes, so--”

Aziraphale:  (Extremely bubbly and expressive) What’s that lovely human expression? Oh yes! Hold that thought! You see I- Ooh- I have some incredibly good news to give you.

Crowley: (Doubtful) Really?

I- um- so uh um-- the Metatron, you know,  uh -I don’t think he’s as bad a fellow- Well- uh- I think I might have misjudged him. You see, I (more inarticulate flustered noises)  Well, he said, um, uh that, Gabriel obviously hadn’t worked out (nervous laugh) as Supreme Archangel and commander of the heavenly host and he asked who I thought should take over in Heaven now that’s Gabriel was gone and I said...

Flashback to the conversation between Metatron and Aziraphale at the coffee shop:

Aziraphale: (Distracted)

“Michael?”

Metatron:

“Oh don’t be silly, no no no no no,  there’s only one candidate who makes even the slightest bit of sense. And that's you."

Cut back to bookshop:

Aziraphale:

And I said, “Me?"

And he said

Cut back to the cafe.

“Well, yes you’re a leader, you're honest, you don’t just tell people what they want to hear. It’s why Gabriel came to you in the first place I imagine. There are huge plans afoot, enormous projects, and I will need you to run them. You are just the angel for the job.”

(flustered)

“I..I..I don’t want to go back to heaven, where would I get my coffee”

Metatron:

“You know, as supreme archangel, you would be able to decide who to work with. Yeah, I’ve been looking back over a number of your previous exploits, and I see that in quite a few of them you formed a de facto partnership with the demon Crowley. Now if you wanted to work with him again, that... might be considered irregular but it would certainly be within your jurisdiction to restore your friend, Crowley,  to full angelic status.

Cut back to the bookshop:

Crowley: (As if he’s just heard the most vile threat)  “He said what?”

Aziraphale: (As if he’s delivering the most wonderful news in the world.). “He said I could appoint you to be an angel. 

You could come back to Heaven and everything  just like the old times. Only even nicer. (Can barely contain his joy). 

Crowley: Right. And you told him just where he could stick it then.

Aziraphale: (Taken aback) Not at all. 

Crowley:  (Furious) Oh we’re better than that, you’re better than that, Angel! 

(camera cuts back to Aziraphales face and we see the light is starting to dim, the smile is fading.)

You don’t need them. I certainly don’t need them! They asked me back to hell and I said No I’m not going to be joining their* team. Neither should you.

Aziraphale: (Flustered, trying to recapture the excitement) But, well obviously you said no to Hell (dismissively) you’re** the bad guys,  but Heaven (imploringly) Well it’s the side of truth or light (he says this like he’s surprised he needs to convince Crowley, like it’s obvious) of good. 

*,**: just a heartbreaking aside: but worth noting here how Crowley refers to himself as separate from Hell, and then Aziraphale lumps them back together.

Crowley: (Insistent) When heaven ends life here on Earth, it will be just as dead as if Hell ended it.

Aziraphale stares at him shocked.

Crowley: (Desperate)  “Tell me you said no.”

Aziraphale can’t look at him. 

“Tell me you said no.”

Aziraphale: If I’m in charge... I can make a difference.

Crowley: (Stares at him for a beat then groans) “oh.”  (Turns away from Aziraphale and collects himself)   “Oh god, right, ok. Right. I didn’t get a chance to say what I was going to say I think I’d better say it now. Right. Okay yes, so” (sighs) “We’ve known each other a long time. (Camera cuts back to Aziraphale who is looking confused and nervous again) We’ve been on this planet a long time. I mean, you and me. I could* always rely on you. You could always rely on me, we’re a team a group, group of the two of us (cuts back to Aziraphale who is still wearing an expression of shock, hurt and confusion, barely taking this in)  and we’ve spent our existence pretending that we aren’t (Crowleys voice is breaking) I mean, the last few years, not really (he vascillates wildly between staring at Aziraphale, and not being able to look at him) and I would like to sp- (he cuts himself off again, overcome, as he looks away, he takes a breath) I mean if Gabriel and Beezlebub can do it, go off together (he looks back, directly at Aziraphale, speaking, insistently, imploringly) then we can (Aziraphale, stares at him uncomprehendingly), just the two of us,  we don’t need heaven we don’t hell, they’re toxic, (Aziraphale is shaking his head now) we need to get away from them, just be an us,  you and me, what do you say.

*note: use of past tense here, is heartbreaking, Crowley already knows  which way this is going to go. 

Aziraphale: (Imploringly, beseechingly) Come with me. To Heaven, I’ll run it, you can be my second in command. We can make a difference.

Crowley: (Seriously) You can’t leave this bookshop. 

Aziraphale: * (Earnestly) Oh Crowley, nothing lasts forever.

Crowley:  (Devastated)  No.  No. I don’t suppose it

(He puts his glasses on) 

Goodluck.

(He starts to leave)

*For such an avid reader, Aziraphale is apparently completely unable to pick up on the subtleties of a metaphor.

Aziraphale: 

Goodluck? Crowley? Crowley! Come back!

Crowley does stop, turning back to look at Aziraphale.

To Heaven. (Desperately, insistently ) Work with me!

We can be together!

At this Crowley makes a dismissive, heartbroken noise and looks away.

Angels!  Doing good!

He remains turned away from Aziraphale, unable to look at him.

(Pleadingly) I need you! 

Aziraphale becomes visibly angry.

I don’t think you understand what I’m offering you.

Crowley:  (At this Crowley does look back).

I understand. (Pityingly)  I think I understand a whole lot better than you do.

Aziraphale: (Rejected, angry, hearbroken)

Well... then there’s nothing more to say.

Crowley: Listen. Hear that

Aziraphale: (Frustrated) I don’t hear anything. 

Crowley: That’s the point, no nightingales.

(Heartbroken) you idiot. We could have been us!

Aziraphale, angry and upset, looks away.

Crowely storms up and pulls him into a kiss. Aziraphale doesn’t seem to know what to do with his hands, he grabs Crowley’s back and then releases him. They separate with Aziraphale overcome, visibly close to tears.

Aziraphale: *I forgive you. 

*Personal opinion but I suspect he’s referring to his perception that Crowley is abandoning him.

Crowley:  (Disgusted) Don’t bother.

He leaves the shop.

Aziraphale tries not to sob, he brings his fingers to his lips and tries to compose himself.

[vanmarkus]

i just think if i was born rich and had a stable family background i could've gotten the "popular irl, annoying online" mental illness instead of the, you know, clinical depression

[saltedsolenoid]

just sat up to get some water and immediately fell back down . good going douchebag

[jckeperalta]

btw today I woke up with a migraine and it's unclear to me whether it's due to pms and period sending me death threats so I know what's to come once she's here or due to reading destiel posts from 2020 on tumblr till 4am 🤔

[lgbtlunaverse]

The world exists in such a baffling state of simultaneous sex-aversion and sex-hegemony. Every social platform on the internet is trying to banish sex workers to the shadow realm but I can't post a tweet without at least two bots replying P U S S Y I N B I O. People are self-censoring sex to seggs and $3× but every other ad you see is still filled with half-naked women. Rightwingers want queer people arrested for so much as existing in the same postal code as a child and are also drumming up a moral panic about how teenage boys aren't getting laid enough. I feel like I'm losing my mind.

[beepboopappreciation]

Is this anything

[kotse]

@hg-aneh your honor they’re silly

edit: i am NOT aneh!! i love and have borrowed their character designs, no affiliation!!

[stemmmm]

more people gotta try this shit where bill has not improved and will not change but he's just chilling so its fine probably. its great

[sparrowlucero]

The greatest injustice ever faced is that I almost certainly started the still thriving "clown husbandry" tag on here, but any discussion about it (from a know your meme page to a youtube video with 500k views) says it's a joke of "unknown origin" or credited to this post, likely bouncing off of mine (which was actively circulating at the time with like 30k notes):

This is a tragedy for many reasons, most of all because it wasn't just an offhand joke but actually a direct response to some of the funniest online hate I ever got:

They're erasing the truest history of tumblr: its desperate need to seethe and argue over every obvious joke with more than 10 notes.

anyways here is the canonical pet clown. according to me

[inkskinned]

this is just my opinion but i think any good media needs obsession behind it. it needs passion, the kind of passion that's no longer "gentle scented candle" and is now "oh shit the house caught on fire". it needs a creator that's biting the floorboards and gnawing the story off their skin. creators are supposed to be wild animals. they are supposed to want to tell a story with the ferocity of eating a good stone fruit while standing over the sink. the same protective, strange instinct as being 7 and making mud potions in pink teacups: you gotta get weird with it.

good media needs unhinged, googling-at-midnight kind of energy. it needs "what kind of seams are invented on this planet" energy and "im just gonna trust the audience to roll with me about this" energy. it needs one person (at least) screaming into the void with so much drive and energy that it forces the story to be real.

sometimes people are baffled when fanfic has some stunning jaw-dropping tattoo-it-on-you lines. and i'm like - well, i don't go here, but that makes sense to me. of fucking course people who have this amount of passion are going to create something good. they moved from a place of genuine love and enjoyment.

so yeah, duh! saturday cartoons have banger lines. random street art is sometimes the most precious heart-wrenching shit you've ever seen. someone singing on tiktok ends up creating your next favorite song. youtubers are giving us 5 hours of carefully researched content. all of this is the impossible equation to latestage capitalism. like, you can't force something to be good. AI cannot make it good. no amount of focus-group testing or market research. what makes a story worth listening to is that someone cares so much about telling it - through dance, art, music, whatever it takes - that they are just a little unhinged about it.

one time my friend told me he stayed up all night researching how many ways there are to peel an orange. he wrote me a poem that made me cry on public transportation. the love came through it like pith, you know? the words all came apart in my hands. it tasted like breakfast.

[chipthekeeper]

the problem with trying to play those tag games about my favorite things is that i can never remember a single thing i like

[geezmarty]

anyway I started playing aai

[roninkairi]

You can only reblog this today.*

*PLEASE READ THE TAGS

[maythedreadwolftakeyou]

Viago, when playing as Rook De Riva: you IDIOT you were my favorite fledgling why did you have to make a mess of this now I have to jump through all these convoluted hoops to keep you safe. Teia stop telling Rook how much I missed them it's not funny they could have DIED. also your room is exactly the way you left it please come home

Strife, when playing as Rook Aldwir: Why hasn't this weird bug i kicked out of our camp ages ago died yet :|