The Middle Distance

It's official. That Bilbo/Thorin/Beorn thing I'm working on is now a 10,000-word PWP.

Your word for the day, should you choose to accept it, is baculum. (That word doesn't actually appear in the story. You can't just throw Latin around in Tolkien fic. The concept certainly does, er, come up.)

GOOD OMENS EXCHANGE 2015 IS OPEN FOR SIGNUPS!!!
I have co-modded this beast for 11 years now! Tendy-one! Which is much to short a time to spend among such excellent and admirable fans. I don't know half of you half as well as I should like; and I like less than half of you half as well as you deserve.

I can't isolate a good excerpt from "Honeypot," the Bilbo's Raging Bear Kink fic yet, since, like I said, 10k PWP.

So have an excerpt from "The Ginger Bush League," which is a Sherlock AU heist caper sex farce (with Sherlock/John as the brilliant detective and his bodyguard-cum-lover-cum-sidekick and Irene/Mary as the brilliant criminal and her own.)

***

“Wait a minute,” Mary said. She had thought the matter of Irene’s duplicity had already shown all its layers in this instance, and found herself exhausted, furious, and yet a little relieved at the revelation that there might be another revelation still. She rather peevishly found herself wishing that Irene might stop revealing things that didn’t involve taking off her clothes. It was getting on towards bedtime. “Our real object? Wasn’t that the--”

“Yes, and we’ve that well in hand, you can be sure. But I found that the hound on our trail was no ordinary mutt. You might have heard of that detective who’s gone all viral? A Mr. Sherlock Holmes?”

“The one with the hat?” Mary said dubiously.

“Rather more than meets the eye. Not that what meets the eye is objectionable,” Irene said, arching an eyebrow.

Well, Irene had never claimed to be a gold star lesbian. Tin star, perhaps. Possibly zinc, or a nickel-plate alloy.

“You think he was getting close?” Mary asked incredulously.

“Oh, I know for sure he was,” Irene said. “He got quite a bit too close. And he’s very close even now.” Irene took Mary’s arm, and led her down the hallway to her windowed playroom, and pointed through the glass. Mary gasped - there was a man in there, bound quite thoroughly to one of Irene’s deluxe leather chairs (for their was no reason for her very well-paying victims to ever be uncomfortable in ways they didn’t wish to be, not when Irene’s art depended so much on very specific discomforts). But this one? A client, or a prisoner? He was a thin but well-built man wearing nothing but pricey black pants, artfully - and effectively bound - black ropes, and a black hood over his head. He had pale skin and long limbs, and absolutely none of the tell-tale signs of the terrified.

“How much does he know?” Mary asked.

“Oh, I would imagine nearly everything at this point,” Irene said.

“So . . . then, shall I?” Mary asked with a little sigh as her muscle memory started to shape the gun that was not in her hand.

Irene huffed and rolled her eyes. “Oh heavens, Mary, sometimes it’s so tedious that you’re a former assassin. You keep turning into that hammer that thinks every problem it sees is a nail.”

Posting started yesterday. GO LOOK there is great stuff already. go_exchange

End snarl, start the squee.

. . . and so it begins!


Nine years, and it's still exciting to me.

I wrote two stories this year:

New Skin for the Old Ceremony
(Aziraphale/Crowley, NC-17) for aten_ra
A bit of a crossover with the Dresden Files series; spoilers for Death Masks. You probably don't need to know those books to read this, though. It's mostly porn. Shapeshifter sex, xenokink, snake fetish...arguably slightly bordering on bestiality, from a certain point of view. Oral and intercrural sex. Ophidian masturbation. Title comes from an album by Leonard Cohen.


Not Always the Same Joke (Aziraphale/Crowley, OFC/OFC, PG) for cinaed
Two teen angels who met their Maker in the '80s (and gave themselves angelic names after Jello Biafra and Siouxsie Sioux) are sent back to Earth to re-establish contact with one of Heaven's agents and to keep an eye on kids. Inspired by the song Alleluia, by Dar Williams.

I can't believe I forgot to pimp this! Well, it just keeps the fun going longer, I guess.

The gift I received was from the lovely eldanis!

Aerial Superiority
Art, Work-safe.

It's Adam and Dog and Aziraphale and Crowley in steampunk flying machines. With beautiful vivid colors and dazzling, dizzying angles. They're having SO MUCH FUN, and so will you if you go look at right now.


<3

Here is the post where you comment with your requests. The post after that tells how to claim prompts (but that option won't be available for several days yet)

As it says, please read the instructions carefully. Some of the protocols have changed from last year.

Latest post on go_exchange. Go look. Go see. If you missed it, it's a masterlist of 40 brand-new Good Omens fics, art pieces, and comics that are currently exclusive.


I wrote The Speck In the London Eye (fic, Aziraphale/Crowley, R) for danny_sama.

This was the first year we decided to change the system up at GOE and have people choose prompts. I know this worked very well for some people, and not as well for others. We're going to put a post up at GOE in the next couple days, to get feedback about people's feelings about the new system.

In a matter of weeks, the Kraken of GOE will awaken again.

Prosperous's Books
for japanimaniac13

historical; Agnes Nutter/Thou-Shalt-Not-Commit-Adultery Pulsifer, Aziraphale/Crowley, PG-13

Summary: "For all that history will remember [the great fire of London] might as well also burn the books Agnes will not have written." I like to think she was making choices all the time, about the future as well as the present, even if she didn't understand them fully. This one was difficult, but pivotal.

Author's Note: I wanted to see if I could go off my beaten track, if anyone would still know it was me if I didn't tell them. Apparently, no one did. I have mixed feelings about this.

Mods the Revelators!

the Post of Revelation is up at go_exchange!