I Vow To Be An Agent Of Chaos

you know how else you know they know. in 1967 aziraphale says “maybe we could go for a picnic. lunch at the ritz.” as possible thing they MIGHT do in the future, but by 2007, they are already eating lunch at the ritz. WHAT WAS THAT CONVERSATION LIKE HUH. when was the first time they ate lunch at the ritz! did aziraphale suggest it, all coy and batting eyelashes and ordering dessert first? or did crowley toss it out in a list of otherwise innocuous lunch places, “well, I dunno, there’s sushi, you like that one Italian place, we could do that, we could do the Ritz, we could do fish and chips, there’s a special on down at the King’s Head, you like that place remember?” and aziraphale turned and said, “you know, i think the ritz will do.” crowley’s eyes are popping out of his head, thank GOD he’s wearing sunglasses. “oh yeah sure!!! sure the ritz!! yeah, definitely, i mean, a table just opened up so yeah we could do that!!” and they go and it turns out that crowley overmiracled the table opening up so it’s like them and two other people in the whole place and crowley is just in agony the entire time as aziraphale nibbles away at his white chocolate coconut cake and they stare at each other over the table not saying anything but KNOWING what it means that they’re there at all and then as soon as aziraphale is done they leave and crowley is like “well that was great! i am SWEATING though so i have to go” and aziraphale is like “yeep absolute same jolly good see you sometime when i can stand to be in the same room with you again with literally any measure of composure because mine is, at present, completely lost. tickety-boo” and they both disappear right off the fucking street out of sheer self-preservation before they just snog the living daylights out of one another. it is another five years before they attempt the ritz again. crowley order copious amounts of champagne in order to fucking cope and then they go back to aziraphale’s shop and stare at each other some more. by 2007 they’re both simultaneously comfortable enough with the status quo that they Know what it means without losing their fucking minds but they are, at all times, also still a little bit losing their fucking minds.

with other eight year olds

dude i bet they fucken FOUGHT  for the privilege of putting that hat on that dragon

SparkNotes is the one true ally

People in badly written fantasy stories will usually talk about the major historical events of their world and how magic has affected the lives of everyone, but ask a person in the real world to describe the effects of WWI and the invention of the combustion engine on modern life and they’d probably couldn’t tell you.

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