This Is How I Imagine The Last Scene Of Season 3🥹🩷✨

difficulty focusing

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1967: you go too fast for me Crowley, or the year the Wolfenden report actually came into effect.

It is no secret that in 1957 the Wolfenden Committee recommended the decriminalisation of private homosexual activity between consenting adults over the age of 21, but with heavier penalties against homosexual activity in public places.

This is precisely what Anathema thinks of when she comments in the book that her book had been left in the back of the car of 'two consenting cycle repairmen'.

Not only does that inform us as readers that the characters within the book perceive Crowley and Aziraphale as being a couple, especially by the (arguably) cleverest witch in the book, but also that their appearances (physical corporations) do in fact look older than 21 years old. (the age of consent)*

*It would take until the 2000s for the age of consent to be equalised, and for lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender personnel to be able to serve openly in the armed forces.

But coming back to the term 'consenting' and the significance within the overall plot of Good Omens series-wise is the fact that they chose 1967, precisely 10 years later after the Wolfenden report and the year the Sexual Offences Act was passed (which decriminalised private homosexual acts between men aged over 21 in England and Wales, while at the same time imposing heavier penalties on street offences) as a crucial point in storytelling.

This is the last scene we see of them after the montage; this is precisely the point where Aziraphale makes that big, first move towards Crowley and manifests himself inside of the Bentley to protect him from a burglary that could have ended in disaster. This is Aziraphale stepping outside from his own box and venturing into admitting that yes, he would enjoy Crowley's company as more than just an Arrangement. He would like the picnics, he would like to dine openly with him.

And this comes precisely at a time, a real world setting where even the Archbishop of Canterbury agreed, saying: “There is a sacred realm of privacy ... into which the law, generally speaking, must not intrude" (referring to homosexuality).

Although we know Aziraphale and Crowley are not men, but rather men-shaped beings of the world, there is something to be said about how the 1967 act reflects on Aziraphale's 'heavenly' beliefs and how that can be attributed not only to homosexuality*, but also a realm of privacy where neither Heaven or Hell (religion itself) need to interfere with his affairs.

*we do know, however, how much the book and tv series lean into Aziraphale being 'gay', at least in our human understanding of labels and categorizing even though he is not; "pansy" "nancy boys" "gayer than a treeful of monkeys on nitrous oxide" (this one specifically marking Aziraphale canonically in the book as appearing to be a homosexual) "you've got the wrong shop" among others.

A real life anecdote from the time says: John Carter was 17 at the time and doesn’t have a clear memory of the bill passing; he only realised the significance of the change with hindsight. He came out in the early 70s, after making contact with his university’s gay society, which wouldn’t have existed were it not for decriminalisation. “It meant that people could meet … and freely associate.” That was crucial, he says, because, “if you don’t even have a space where you can go, then people are cruising, they’re cottaging * ... It took many years for people who had been constantly looking over their shoulder, being worried, to develop proper ways of relating to each other. Ways that were not just based on sex or compromise or fear.”

*(No, cottaging is not living in a cottage)

No matter that the law had been passed, there was still a lot of stigma surrounding the word 'homosexual'. It wasn't until the 80s and 90s that it stopped being a crime in Scotland and Ireland; being further stigmatized with the AIDS crisis in the late 80s.

Regardless of the nature of the open confession Aziraphale lays bare to Crowley in 1967, it most definitely can be read as a 'coming out' for him. Perhaps not dealing with sexuality directly, but with religion layered on top of that. It is still too fast despite of the year, in spite of the millennia worked together under false pretenses. But it is an exterior, real life push that reinforces the idea for him to see that- if humans are able to recognize that man could be with man and not call it a crime, why could that same thinking not be applied to an angel and a demon living on Earth?

Aziraphale is doing more than blurting his heart out, he is openly hoping for the time that matches 1967 in its decriminalisation of homosexuality to one that applies for him and Crowley. So the thermos, the "better not" say thank you just yet, is a lingering promise to be there for when it finally happens. One which Crowley accepts with bare, open hands.

📚 Memories 📦

They're moving into their shared cottage, finally! And of course they will unbox some old and new memories. Who knew a silly old thermos could hold so much meaning?

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Glass

            After it was all over, Aziraphale sat on the edge of a bluff and let his feet hang over the side. Rivers and farmland stretched before him. In the distance he spotted a church crouched behind a copse of trees. His heel knocked loose a pebble. He watched it tumble into empty space and wondered what it would feel like to follow.

            Behind him he heard the gentle rumble of an engine. The sound of a door slamming shut was muted, as was the crunch of boots on gravel as someone approached. He didn’t look around.

            A wine bottle was thrust before his eyes. Automatically, he noted the vintage. He must have gone to some effort for this.

            “Drink?”

            Aziraphale nodded.

            Crowley dropped beside him, sending another cascade of pebbles down the cliff. He produced two wine glasses and handed one to the angel.

            Once the wine had generously been decanted, Crowley knocked his glass against Aziraphale’s with a bright ring that vibrated through his fingers.

            “I believe congratulations are in order,” he said, taking a swig.

            “Hmm,” Aziraphale murmured. He peered into his glass. He could see his reflection along the outer rim.

            Crowley cleared his throat. “They underestimated you.” He hesitated, then made an aborted gesture with one hand. “I underestimated you.”

            Aziraphale took a long pull from his glass.

            Crowley planted his elbows on his knees and leaned forward, trying to catch Aziraphale’s eye. When the angel didn’t look up, he turned away, face etched with resignation. He kicked a heel against the cliff and watched dirt shower down.

            Aziraphale took this opportunity to eye the demon’s profile.

            “How does it work?” he asked.

            Crowley looked over his shoulder. “How does what work?”

            “No Heaven. No Hell.” The icy hand that had been stalking him the last few months seized his heart. “How do you know good from evil?” A dark void threatened to open up beneath his feet. If he put one foot wrong he would fall in and keep falling, forever. He struggled to breathe. “What if you can’t? What if there…isn’t? At all?”

            Suddenly there was a hand on his arm. He could hear his breath harsh in his ears as he looked at it. He looked up into Crowley’s yellow eyes.

            “It’s okay angel. Breathe.”

            Aziraphale could feel tears gathering in his eyes. “The sheer – arrogance,” he murmured, “to think that I – ”

            “Arrogant?” A strangled laugh struggled in the demon’s throat. “Aziraphale – you are the only person I met in all of Hell or Heaven who cared – at all – to even try to figure out what was right and wrong,” he said intently, every line of him leaning forward, eyes wide, trying to make him understand. “The arrogance to try? What about the arrogance of thinking you don’t have to?” His breath pulled rapidly in and out of his chest.

            The tears Aziraphale had been fighting spilled over.

            “I’m not sure this is going to be comforting but – I don’t think anyone knows for sure, certainly not me,” Crowley said. His grip on Aziraphale’s arm tightened. “I’m not sure that what the Almighty imparted in the garden was knowledge of good and evil so much that it was knowledge that everything is complicated and all of it matters so much. It deserves your conscience and your doubt. It deserves your best effort.”

            He tilted his head, tried to catch Aziraphale’s eyes. “I am not worried about you at all,” he said, lips quirking in an attempt at a smile. “You, who gave your sword away at the very Beginning. You’ve always had a heart for these things.”

            Aziraphale raised a hand to wipe his eyes and Crowley let go, turning to look out over the landscape below. Aziraphale immediately missed his grip; but he was still close, shoulders brushing together.

            “’Sides,” Crowley said, aiming for nonchalance and falling staggeringly short, “I’ll still be here. It’s easier together, I think.”

             Crowley looked out at the fields and Aziraphale looked at Crowley. He was swamped by the urge to put his head on Crowley’s shoulder and only just managed to resist it.

            Aziraphale looked into his glass. “About what you said – in the bookshop –” he began.

            Crowley flung up a hand to head him off. He drained the rest of his glass in one go. “We don’t need to talk about that,” he rasped.

            Aziraphale raised an eyebrow. “Don’t we?”

            Crowley shook his head emphatically. “It’s okay. I’m sorry I said anything. Or…” He hesitated, his eyes dropping to Aziraphale’s lips before careening away. “…did, anything. You don’t need to say…what you’re going to say. I promise I won’t do it again.” He sloppily crossed his heart and pushed himself to his feet.

            Aziraphale listened to his footsteps crunching back toward the Bentley. A kind of calm anger poured in and began filling up his chest. His face set like stone. “That’s a shame,” he said out loud.

            The footsteps paused. “What was that?”

            “I said – ” Aziraphale pushed himself to his feet and turned around. Crowley stood halfway to the car, bottle and glass in one hand, keys in the other.

            “I said,” he said, “it’s a shame that you will never again tell me that you love me; will never kiss me again.” He twisted his hands together, fingernails biting into skin. “I was rather hoping you would.”

            Crowley stared at him.

            Aziraphale moved forward until they were only inches apart. He held Crowley’s eyes.

            Crowley hesitated for a long moment, searching his face. Finally he swayed forward, almost helplessly, head tilted, and pressed his lips to Aziraphale’s.

            Aziraphale inhaled sharply and leaned into the kiss. He brought one hand around to grip Crowley’s shoulder, and used the other to cup Crowley’s face. A tremor ran down Crowley’s body. Aziraphale brushed his thumb along Crowley’s jawline and deepened the kiss. That icy hand retreated and Aziraphale dared to hope he would learn how to keep it at bay. He felt like he had stepped outside in winter and found a patch of sun.

            He pulled back and smiled to himself at the dazed expression on Crowley’s face. “Do you want to get rid of…” he indicated the bottle and glass still in Crowley’s hand.

            Crowley slowly dragged his eyes away and looked at the offending objects. “Hm? Oh, right.” Unceremoniously, he tossed them away, stuffing the keys back into his pocket as he did so. His arms encircled Aziraphale and pulled him back in for another heady kiss.

            The glass hit the ground, but instead of shattering into shards, it shattered into seeds, which germinated far too rapidly, extending tender green shoots and fragile white roots until a patch of wildflowers had rooted in the gravel beside the road, an eddy of pink, red, purple, and impossible blue.

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Article reference

The South Downs cottage . . . . .

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we could go for a picnic

REJECT RENDERING RETURN TO ANIMATION RAAAAAAGH

some stills from the thing ^_^