#sungmee

Join the ineffable husbands on their journey through the ages, starting in ancient China as portrayed by @sungmee 's (cecillusive on Twitter and Instagram) wonderful art!

The Good AUmens AU Fest is an event of over 100 authors and artists, all producing new alternate universe works based on a prompt that was assigned to them. They’ve been at work since early March and the works will debut during the month of June.

This is the fourth of five weekly masterposts.

[ Links to previous masterposts: 1 - 2 - 3 ]

Works arranged by date posted

June 21

Elders AU: a halcyon day by @mllekurtz​

Library AU: Call Number by @musegnome​

Western AU: A Fistful of Omens by @saretton​

June 22

Medusa AU:  I See You by @sungmee​

Soulmate AU: four-letter words by @pheenick​

Bodyguard AU: Apple Tree Duty by @danger-r-98-5

June 23

Summer Camp Counselor AU: Star of the Wooded Mountain by @jammintwamp​

Circus AU: Rites of Movement by @spoilthevines​

June 24

Regency AU: The Lord of Tadfield Manor by @cousin-serena​

Demon/Human AU: This artwork by @emeraldscholar​

June 25

Professors AU: Opera Cakes and Second Takes by @ineffable-writer​

Art Heist AU: This is Ourselves (Under Pressure) by @raiining​

Vampire AU: The Night Shift by @silver-colour​

June 26

Angry Customer/Employee AU: The Fine Print by @fremulon

Single Parent AU: What You Mean to Me by @lt-commander-aly​

Good Omens/Generation Kill fusion: 40 Days in the Desert by @wildtrakone​

June 27

Hello hello!

AH YES our boy tony. Tony vol 2 is the rough outline of a sequel to this ficlet I wrote for the events Name The Author event! It’s meant to be a bit of pwp with Feelings, where they basically bang in the bathroom at the back of a pub. Here’s a lil snip!

He was here somewhere. Even if Crowley hadn't already mentioned he'd been skulking about this area working a few temptations, Aziraphale would have known. He could feel the dense ripple of something occult, could smell the hint of sulphur and scorched wood that lingered underneath the stench of tobacco and stale beer.

Sure enough, he spotted Crowley sitting further down the bar, chatting away to a middle-aged man in a chocolate brown suit. The hazy pub lights seemed to soften all the demon’s sharp edges, turned his shoulder length hair a rich chestnut. He smiled broadly at his conversational partner, top lip still embellished with red hair, and his easy demeanour with the human made something jagged and horrible twist in the bottom of Aziraphale's stomach.

Crowley caught sight of him over the man’s shoulder, and Aziraphale’s heart climbed into his throat. He waved off the human and weaved through the crowd at the bar until he was standing close enough for Aziraphale to smell his cologne. 

"Aziraphale, what… what are you doing here?”

The desire that had been slow burning in Aziraphale's abdomen suddenly glowed red hot, and without thinking, he leaned forward and put his mouth next to Crowley's ear.

"Looking for you.”

As for summer lovin, this was a fic I had wanted to write based on a list of prompts someone posted last year called Summer Omens. I wanted it to be Az and Crowley taking a little holiday to the seaside after Armageddon, and I wanted to set it in the part of England where I grew up! I sadly only managed one prompt (lmao rip me) but I might try it again this summer!

In hindsight, Aziraphale wasn't entirely sure why he’d expected anything else from a seaside getaway in Britain. Of course it was going to be cold. When Crowley had suggested going away for the weekend, he'd harboured fantasies of strolling along the pier and holding hands on the beach, a kitsch room in an old B&B and romantic seafood dinners by candlelight. They’d hopped in the Bentley and drove north out of London, through the flat East Anglian countryside, until they reached the coast. Once Crowley had parked up along the promenade, Aziraphale excitedly scrambled out of the car, able to taste the salt on the air before he’d even managed to get the door open.

Then he’d laid eyes on the North Sea, murky and turbid with no way of knowing what he was stepping into, and his enthusiasm faltered.

Now he stood rooted to the spot, Oxfords dangling from one hand, the rolled-up cuffs of his trousers brushing the backs of his knees, and watched as another wave dashed against Crowley’s legs before retreating with a hiss.

Coming on July 24th!  My @do-it-with-style-events mini-bang fic with the most beautiful art in existence by @sungmee and @cassieoh; “You See the Colors In Me”!

Summary for you all:  About 6 months after the failed apocalypse, Crowley and Aziraphale have settled into a comfortable relationship.  If only Crowley could say what he feels.  Every time he tries to tell Aziraphale how much the angel means to him, it gets stuck, anxieties and fears pushing it back down.  

Luckily for him, for them both really, Aziraphale knows just how to take care of him, and how to help him coax these words out.

Snippet under the cut!  This fic is very much NSFW!  As is the snippet under the cut!

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Friends, Romans, Countrymen - lend me your pants!

By which I mean, it’s @do-it-with-style-events Good Omens Mini-Bang time!

That’s right, on July 15th, @sungmee and I will be posting Take Me To Snurch or the story of how Crowley can’t walk on consecrated ground, but get’s worshiped by an angel anyway. Full of fluff, a little humor, an a snek-y Crowley, plus a porn-y epilogue...it’s going to be a lot of fun!

Excerpt: Crowley strode confidently through the archway and then shrieked. His feet felt like they were on fire. He tripped over himself scrambling backwards out of the pyramid. Something was niggling in the back of his mind, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on why this was happening. He just knew it didn’t make sense. 

“How dare you prevent your Pharaoh from entering his own temple!” Crowley roared, covering the pain he felt with as much righteous indignation as he could muster.  

The priest scrambled back out of the pyramid and prostrated himself before Crowley, “Forgive us, my Pharaoh! We have prepared only the holiest of holy consecrated ground to build your temple on! The machinations of the God Apep[1] must have snuck his way in to desecrate it, and defile your mere presence with his hiss!” 

Holy. The word struck a chord within Crowley, and the proverbial lightbulb that hadn’t been invented yet went off above his head. This was consecrated ground. Even if it wasn’t for worshipping the real God, She allowed it to be blessed.

Sungmee: hey so you know that great ask you got like a day or so ago about aziraphale eating crowley out on his desk? yeah (nsfw art through the link)

“But it's not okay, because Martin does NOT want to get sixty per cent!”