the thing about betty cooper. is that she’s gay and she has the serial killer genes. and her brother is gay and he has the serial killer genes. and he’s a serial killer. so she’s like. well these two things are obviously connected. as long as i’m not gay then i won’t become a serial killer. so it’s compulsory heterosexuality not in the typical sense but in a desperate attempt to avoid becoming a serial killer. and it literally makes her the best character on television.
My heart hurts so bad for Aziraphale because I can honestly just relate to him so, so, so much.
(not putting this one under a cut so warning season 2 ahead, I’ll tag it at the bottom too)
Aziraphale says, “Nothing lasts forever,” but I don’t believe for a second he doesn’t wish that it did.
He WANTS things to go back to how they used to be. He WANTS the seraphic Crowley squealing with joy as he cranks up the universal machine and sets the stars aflame. He WANTS there to be no sides, he WANTS to believe in the idea of the host united, he WANTS to go back before Crowley got himself in trouble by asking questions. He wants, I think, to be in that moment of creation and adoration forever.
Change seems to frighten him. There’s an aspect of uncertainty. There’s an element of chaos, the loss of control. I understand this deeply. And what the Metatron offered him was just that: certainty, control, the ability to dictate his own narrative.
I used to be in a toxic job. On top of it, I had intense anxiety and other undiagnosed neurodivergencies that made it even harder to fit in and understand the untold rules I was supposed to follow to get along. When I first got there, it wasn’t so bad – perhaps I was, like Aziraphale, also a bit idealistic. Then there were some changes that brought instability, significant more anxiety, and a lot of nights spent agonizing over my lack of control over it all.
My friends and significant other tried to convince me to leave, but I didn’t want to. I didn’t know what else was out there. I didn’t know if it would be worse. I didn’t know what kind of stability it would have.
Then my manager left, so that spot opened up. I had worked there for a long time, and honestly, I never saw myself going into management. I didn’t think I could. I wasn’t sure I even wanted to. All of that extra stress, on me? Not to mention, getting FURTHER into the job that was taking a massive toll on me? But then…
Then I would have control. Then I could run things the way *I* had always thought they should run. I wouldn’t need to worry about who would replace my manager and whether my life would be a living hell – I would make it what I wanted it to be. Upper management was really pushing for it, so I applied.
To make a long story short: I don’t think it went very well. I didn’t have the support I needed. I didn’t have the emotional skills I needed. I think I did my best, but I’m not fond of those times. At the time, I was SURE that I wanted to move up even more, I was SURE this would make it all better. I thought this was what I REALLY wanted.
But that’s not what I needed. What I needed was to get out, and eventually I did. Even as ready as I was to leave, it was absolutely agonizing. I could barely stand to handle the unknown. I was going to work together with my spouse, actually, and I was so excited for that, but I still… I still was upset and worried sick over the dramatic change that would befall my life, after I had made the decision to leave.
That’s where I can relate to Aziraphale. I wonder what would’ve happened if, before I had actually left for good, the head honchos had come up to me and said, “We want to keep you – how about we offer you (an even higher position)?” – would I have said no, or would I have wanted to make a difference?
Funny, I said exactly that, too. That’s almost why I didn’t change jobs in the first place. I said, “But I feel like I’m really making a difference with what I’m doing now.” But what pushed me over the edge was realizing that none of that mattered to them, it was all about THEIR control of ME, not the other way around.
I’m so intensely curious to see what happens with Aziraphale next, but I’m sure he will learn what Crowley understands: nothing lasts forever, and sometimes it’s good that it doesn’t – even if sometimes we wish it did.
