Absolutely delightfully batshit things that are canon from the Good Omens book but (as far as I can remember) didn’t make it into the tv series:
- Elvis never died and works as a burger-cook at Burger Lord, the fast food chain owned by Famine
- Burger Lord franchises are banned in France
- Adam has a much older sister named Sarah and I would pay so much money for a chapter from her POV
- Baby #3 from the hospital switch grows up in Tadfield too, is called 'Greasy Johnson' and his gang of kids are the Them's greatest enemies
- Adam resurrects the postman Death killed and the postman immediately goes back to work, delivering Agnes Nutter's box to Newt and Anathema. It's also strongly implied the postman, unlike the rest of the world, remembers everything
- Adam also resurrected the ten telephone salespeople Hatsur killed. They don't remember anything. It's probably for the best.
- The Them meet the Metatron and are disappointed it isn't a transformer. They make their disappointment known. Loudly.
- Warlock Dowling is good at math, likes baseball and "plastic toys that transform into other plastic toys"
Return of the Ineffable Cats ^^ Nap times and sushi time.
Godfathers of Earth V2 with better oil pastels.
2 April 2023 - Crowley
Soon, he would have to go back to work. Crowley had no idea how he was going to start seeing people again. Over the past few months, he had become a shadow of himself. He had gone out the bare minimum, eaten the bare minimum, and drunk far more than the bare minimum.
He had gone from sorrow to anger and then back to sorrow.
Because Crowley had loved with all of himself, and it had not been enough.
Because those like him were never enough.
(Damn you, Crowley. Falling in love like that, at forty years old. You idiot)
12 March 2022 - Crowley
It was probably going to rain, but it wasn't that important. He knew where he had to go and the path better than anyone else.
The man on the path had hair that looked as soft as a dandelion, which sprouted just about everywhere in the mountains at that time of year. He had greeted him, as he always did on the trail, and the stranger seemed a little lost, as if he did not know exactly what to do. Crowley had gone on for a few minutes, thinking about whether he should stop and go back and offer him some help, just in case he needed it. Then he'd heard himself being called, and his life had momentarily found itself in one of those situations you only see in romantic comedies, like that damn movie with Gwyneth Paltrow, the one where the subway doors close and the whole course of things changes for that reason. Because she hadn't been able to get on the fucking subway.
Although he might have imagined it, he could not know at that moment.
The man's eyes were the purest and most transparent he had ever seen. The smile he gave him was the most open and radiant that could exist. He looked like an almost otherworldly being.
Crowley could not have known it, but the doors of his stupid imaginary train had closed in front of him because he had stopped on the lodge path to talk to a person he did not yet know.
And so, from that moment on, everything would be different.
Hiya, could you pretty pretty please do a 12. and 33. prompt for the ineffable husbands? I keep thinking of Bentley just locking them in and not letting them out until they talk cupboard trope style 😔
Yessssss :D
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"Now you listen to me Crowley, you are going to tell your car—"
"Our car."
Aziraphale stops. Blinks. Gives up on fighting with the door handle.
"What did you say?" he asks.
"It's our car," Crowley repeats, more of a mumble this time, looking away from Aziraphale. A raindrop runs down the window, and he follows it with his eyes until it pools at the bottom, joining the great conference of former raindrops gathering there. They're in for a night of it, by the looks of the sky. "You said that. You made that true. So you're as much at fault as I am for it locking us in."
"I don't see how this is my fault. You kidnapped—"
"Kidnapped? I rescued you. That's. That's what I do. That's what the almighty made me for, I think," he huffs, still not looking at Aziraphale.
One rescue does not a rift mend. He's owed an apology. And even though everything's gone to heaven, like he predicted, he still hasn't gotten one.
He'd take a lot less. He doesn't need to hear that he was right. He needs to hear that Aziraphale's sticking with him this time.
The Bentley is, at least temporarily, seeing to that. Crowley gives the steering wheel a gentle pat. He genuinely has nothing to do with the doors being locked and apparently immune to miracles or temptation, but he thinks it's trying to help.
If nothing else, the constant itch of not being able to reach out and touch Aziraphale, if he wanted, has vanished for a bit. The ache of missing him has eased back just a fraction. It's a good car. A good, loyal car.
"You're cold," he says, shrugging out of his jacket without even having to look at Aziraphale. It's cold out tonight, in the middle of bloody nowhere, and he gets cold easily. Crowley doesn't want him to be cold.
"You'll be cold," Aziraphale says as Crowley shoves his body-warmed jacket at him.
"Demon," he says. "Don't get cold."
Theoretically, an angel ought not to get cold either. Thing is. Aziraphale's never actually been a very good angel. Not that Crowley would ever tell him that to his face.
Besides, he's his angel. He's allowed to be not very good.
"Thank you," Aziraphale says, taking the jacket and spreading it over himself like a blanket.
Silence, except for the pit-pat of rain against the car, falls. And Aziraphale's breathing. Crowley's missed the way he breathes.
He literally twiddles his thumbs in his lap, trying to think of something to say or do.
"Things are a bit of a mess," Aziraphale says after what might have been several eternities. Crowley's lost count.
He opens his mouth to say something—something comforting, like that it's not all that bad, or that they'll figure it out, they're a team, they always figure it out.
And then Aziraphale continues, "and you tried to warn me."
His voice sounds so small that Crowley, naturally, like he always does, deflates like a sat-on whoopee cushion. Because the thing about Aziraphale is that he always really is trying to do the right thing. Because he still believes there's one true Right Thing to do. Because he's precious and wonderful and optimistic and good. Not a good angel. But a good person.
"Did you ever wonder why I might try to do that?" Crowley asks.
He's not sure he wants an answer. Either one's going to hurt.
Aziraphale falls silent again, which is probably for the best. The way the moonlight's hitting the window now, Crowley can see him reflected in it. Still the same Aziraphale. Heaven hasn't really changed him.
"Do you really think God created you to look out for me?"
Crowley sighs. "I don't know. Plan's, y'know, ineffable."
"Well it would explain why you keep doing it," Aziraphale says. "If it's all in the plan."
"Right," Crowley draws in on himself. Not getting through right now, then. "No other possible explanation for it, really."
"Well. There is one other possible explanation," Aziraphale offers hesitantly.
"Oh?" Crowley asks.
"Well... you might. I suppose. Be fond of me?"
Crowley glances over at him. Sighs. Okay, well. He's come to that conclusion, then. It's only taken a little over six thousand years. Practically no time at all.
He takes his sunglasses off. Stares out of the windscreen. Wonders if he can actually be discorporated by way of stomach knots. Gnaws on his lip.
And then gets very, very brave. "I might be," Crowley says, forcing himself to look Aziraphale in the eye. "I might even be in love with you."
Aziraphale swallows. He looks like he might either be sick or pass out from what Crowley realises at the last second isn't disgust.
It's nerves.
"You might," he says, looking away as he fiddles with Crowley's jacket. "And. And if you were. That would be very convenient for me. Because I... I think I've been in love with you for a very long time."
Crowley means to say something to that, but the nice satisfying thunk of the Bentley unlocking beats him to it.
"Well," Crowley says, running his tongue over his teeth. "That's probably enough to save the world, then. Shall we?"
Aziraphale lights up, bright and beautiful and good as always. "I think we really must."
Ineffable Eras Zine: Before the Beginning creator applications are open!
This volume covers 4 periods of Good Omens history:
• Creation
• Heaven's Great War
• The Fall and its Aftermath
• The Garden of Eden
We look forward to proposals from artists and writers for each of these periods!
Applications are open through December 3 with results by January 3, 2024
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Me "Let's draw cats !!". My brain "Let's draw Cat Omens !!!!"
Thank you @ineffablepenguin and all the illustrators, i've got the book today and it's beautiful. 😍 https://www.instagram.com/p/CckeDd8qw3s/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=
Work in progress
drawings mostly Good Omens or "original" stuffs they/them french https://linktr.ee/enitnaaezara
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