Beautiful Boyfriends

"hey Ron"

"hey Billy"

Other examples include Crowley fixing his Bentley after the crash, turning off the car lights/TV/… by snapping etc etc etc

Except they don’t really need to do that, do they? Because we also see quite a few examples where they don’t snap but instead do some other movement:

Aziraphale also fixes her bike, adds a bike rack to the Bentley and then removes the gears from the bike all in this scene definitely without snapping and without even really doing some other obvious movement.

You could even argue that the paper burning here is an example of that:

After all, no one snaps their fingers there (and Crowley doesn’t appear to have moved much either).

And of course, the most prominent example that kills us all everytime:

Further examples include Aziraphale saving them in the church scene (he literally just stands there), Crowley stopping time or whatever during the final battle at the air base, Aziraphale changing his clothes in Paris by just kinda gesturing up and down his body…

I like to think that this is just what happenned after the toust, at the last scene.

My personal headcanon.

EDIT:

"I married this man,,"

:

(please don't repost)

original text post by @superdogbiter

“I’m Crowley’s replacement,” the demon says.  “He’s not done anything impressive lately, and Downstairs doesn’t like how ineffective he is at keeping you in line.  So now he’s shuffling paperwork and scooping up hellhound shit while I do his job for him.”

“Ah… I see,”  Aziraphale says icily.  “Well, I most assuredly do not look forward to working with you.”

The demon laughs.  “Feeling’s mutual.”

Twenty-four hours later, the demon is very surprised to find himself discorporated in his sleep.  He can’t explain what happened, he has absolutely no idea.

“Don’t let it happen again,” Beelzebub says, annoyed, and sends the demon back up.

After a mere three days, the demon ends up discorporated again.

A new replacement is sent up.  This one lasts for a week and a day.

A third replacement is sent up.  This one lasts for exactly four hours.

Three demons are sent up next time.  Two manage to stay alive for at least five months.  In that time, they botch four very important temptations, and the citizens of London inexplicably find their daily lives much improved in thousands of little ways.  Traffic and pollution are nonexistent, injury and illness are miraculously avoided.  Church attendance is up five hundred percent, and every politician and CEO is struck by the urge to donate as much money as possible to charity.  There’s a general feeling of contentedness and goodwill in the air that wasn’t there before.  It feels downright heavenly.

Suddenly, Beelzebub is having a very hard time finding anyone to take Crowley’s post.  Bribes and threats make no difference.  The rumors have spread and only grown more disturbing in the telling.  Not one demon is willing to go up there and face the cold, calculated, merciless wrath of the angel known as Aziraphale.

Crowley absolutely loses it when someone gets around to telling him.  “Y’know, I could’ve warned you,” he says gleefully.  “Been working with him for thousands of years.  I know exactly how much of a bastard he can be.”

After running the numbers and seeing how many souls they’ve lost to Heaven in the past year, Beelzebub gives up and concludes that trying to replace Crowley is a massive waste of resources Hell can’t afford.

After one year, Aziraphale receives another phone call.  He answers, with bated breath, and nearly shouts for joy when he hears a familiar voice.

Aziraphale: Gay?