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 third of five weekly masterposts.
[ Links to previous masterposts: 1Â - 2 ]
Works arranged by date posted
June 14
1980s Club AU: Jagged Lines and Neon Prayers by @thebright1​
Hotel Guests AU: Hotel Guests by @redundant-angel​
June 15
Repair Shop/Antique Restoration AU: Divine Restorations & Repairs by @syl-writes-stuff​ and @skimmingmilk​
Ocean Setting AU: Hush now, Mo StĂłirĂn by @cloverthegrand​
June 16
Newspaper AU: Gossip and Good Counsel by @charlottemadison42
Firefighter/Poet AU: The Poet's Eye by @holycatsandrabbits​
Standup Comedian AU: A Divine Comedy by @waywarder​
Bakery AU: The Sweetest Thing in Life is Love by @depressedstressedlemonzest​
June 17
Chiropractor/Factory Worker AU: well adjusted, in theory by @emberfaye​
Cricket AU: Knocked For Six by @heavens-bookshop​
June 18
Ghosts AU: Ghostly Ever After by @rogueholmes​ Â
Time Looping/Repeating AU: Time Flies (When You're Having Fun) by @omgmussimm​
Pen Pals AU: Sincerely Yours, Angel Cake by @sk3tchid​
June 19
Forestry-Hermit/Hiker AU: Over the River and Through the Woods by @coveredincrumb​
Sleeping Beauty AU: This artwork by @monstroustea​
Mermaid AU: Salt on Her Skin by @meowdejavu​
June 20
Superhero AU: Faster Than a Speeding Bentley by @moondawntreader
Figure Skating AU: Leave Your Heart on the Ice by @minervamoon66​
Fake Marriage AU: In The Shadows Of Our Past, A Flicker by @waitingtobebroken​​​
Pandemic Practice Apocalypse AU: Disaster Managment by @princip1914​
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An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Title: What We Wasted (in Doubting and Waiting)
Rating: Explicit
Fandom: Good Omens
Word Count: ~7K
Pairing: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Summary:Â
O lost days of delight, that are wasted in doubting and waiting!
O lost hours and days in which we might have been happy!
But the light shone at last, and guided his wavering footsteps,
And at last came the voice, imperative, questionless, certain.
A smutty beach fic with a happy ending. Not as angsty as the title might suggest.
Tags: Ineffable Husbands, Ineffable idiots, Aziraphale loves Crowley, Crowley loves Aziraphale, Semi-public sex, Masturbation, Day at the beach, beach sex, Aziraphale has a penis, Crowley has a penis, Riding, Topping from the bottom, Anal sex, Cock warming (for a little bit), South Downs Cottage, Established Relationship, Happy Ending, Beta’d, Smut
I wrote this for the Holly Jolly July secret santa-esque gift swap in the @go-events server. For my giftee, I was given @skimmingmilk!! Every prompt they had was sooo good, it was such a challenge to pick only a few! But who can resist some smexy beach times, amirite? I am so proud of how this came out, and honestly, a lot of that is due to @syl-writes-stuff betaing it into submission! She is amazing, and I couldn’t have found a more talented, nicer, hilarious person for the job. (I owe you big time!) So, Thanks universe, for letting it all come together!
A special shout out as well to @eveningstarcatcher for coordinating this behemoth of a task! Two weeks to throw everything together? No way, you’d think, and yet... What an amazing, coordinated, otherworldly-being! YOU ROCK!!
I wanted to read the rest of skimmingthesurface’s over the garden wall fics (specifically over the water) because i loved like clouds to the wind so much, but when i went to the site ao3 was down so now im just sitting in a completely dark room listening to hello darkness my old friend
"We’re not leaving, not really. I know it’ll seem that way, and that’s no fun, but we’re friends. Friends never leave each other behind. We just have to go now, okay, and we’ll see you when it’s your turn."
She held him in her lap, his tea kettle set to the side with his frog perched atop it. Even he knew to give the two hyperactive bundles a moment to just be.
"Don’t cry." She kissed the corner’s of his eyes, pleased when his lips quirked. "You have my stickers, and I have pictures of you on my camera. So we have pieces of each other, and that’s really important."
Her cheek rested atop his head, the pair watching finely dressed frogs boarding a brightly colored ferry. “I wish I could go with you. I wish we could keep having so much fun together, but we will one day. When you’re home and I’m home? We’ll have all kinds of adventures.”
He looked up, smiling at her, and her long hair draped around them both like a curly cocoon. “Okay,” he agreed, accepting her promise. She hadn’t lied to him yet, after all, and he had always found it easy to trust.
"Pinky promise," she insisted and they linked pinkies, both laughing for the first time since seeing the ferry.
"Should I promise something too?" he asked.
"Go ahead."
"I promise I won’t forget." He looked up, his round, baby face so serious for a moment that her heart melted for him all over again. "Not you or Dipper! And I’ll take care of your stickers. Promise!"
She could’ve cried and dearly wanted to, wrapping her arms around him. He was so little and, though a child herself, Mabel Pines felt very grown-up as The Unknown started to fade around her. She was almost home, and the boy she’d befriended very quickly wasn’t nearly so close as she.
"Will you be strong for Wirt? Even if he’s older and has his act together, I think he might be a little scared. So you be as strong as you can for him, and I know you’ll both make it home."
"That brother o’ mine," he sighed and she felt her lips tug into a warm smile. "Don’t worry, Mabel. We’ll be a-okay!"
They would, she thought, and ruffled his hair before returning the tea kettle to his head. “I know you will, elephant friend. I know you will!”
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u ship pinescone?!?!?!?!?!?!?!??!!!!!!!!!! are u writing more????
Ah, that’s a funny story behind the pinescone~
I didn’t start out shipping it because I’m usually not into crossovers. Like, I’m good with sitting in the universe that I’m given and exploring that. I did like the fanart and ideas for stuff with Gravity Falls and Over the Garden Wall though, so it was only a matter of time before I was writing one (all thanks to syl-writes-stuff because I can’t write the Mystery Twins a fraction as well as she can). She started shipping it, once she found out it was a thing, and asked me to help her with the sequel to our crossover “Falling Over the Wall” which would have pinescone shipping. I figured I could write it with her, why not. We have so much fun writing together and I love it and it sounded like a cute idea.
Now I ship it and I don’t know how it happened. It was like magic, I’m serious. It’s under specific circumstances though, that will be unveiled in the sequel, so it works in my mind. Plus my writing partner’s Dipper is my favorite Dipper ever. But yeah. syl-writes-stuff and I are definitely writing more pinescone fics and they get pretty intense, guys. I’m just saying that now. You know how I was with Two Roads? Well, with the both of us, we’re basically doubling emotional turmoil. We’re unstoppable.
((A response to this fic that I requested of syl-writes-stuff, who is also hardcorenerdthings. If you want me to write the poem and the codes, I will, just know that it will probably take the entire night.))
He hadn’t expected to get anything.
Well, that wasn’t true. He expected some sort of Valentine’s token, whether it be in the form of a card or flowers or chocolate or something non-traditional like a little video message or a puzzle that would reveal some adorable message. He’d tried to come up with one himself, but he’d only just started learning how to decode ciphers and such, and anything he came up with to entertain and delight his boyfriend would just end up being simple. It was one thing when he practiced with Greg, but it was another entirely if he actually wanted to give Dipper a challenge.
In the end he decided to slip one into the poem he’d written, but the focus was really on the poem and less on the cipher. Though he’d also figured out how to order flowers online and have them shipped to Dipper’s house and he’d put another part of the code in the little card that went with the flowers. He’d picked each flower in the arrangement specifically. Pink camellias for longing, white ones for being adorable. Red carnations to say, “my heart aches for you,” and yellow tulips for, “there’s sunshine in your smile.” Blue hyacinth for constancy and white heather for protection. Coupled with the cipher, he was pretty sure the florist thought he was nuts with the request, but it was worth it if it made Dipper laugh. And if he looked up the meanings of the flowers, which he was sure he would, then maybe he’d also make him swoon a little. He kind of hoped so.
He wished he could be there to see his reaction.
When a letter came from him in the mail the day before Valentine’s Day, Wirt had eagerly placed it on his table in his room to wait for the next day. He thought about opening it first thing in the morning, but he wanted to wait until he could call Dipper immediately after so he could tell him how much he loved it. It was a Sunday, so school wouldn’t get in the way, but they did have a three hour time difference to keep in mind.
He knew Dipper had already received his letter, he’d sent it so far in advance, fretting over the possibilities of it getting lost in the mail or bouncing back to him for some reason or any number of things, so he’d been able to breathe easier knowing it was safe at Dipper’s home in Piedmont. The flowers were scheduled to arrive at his house at ten-thirty in the morning, giving Dipper plenty of time to wake up, but not enough time for him to call him so they could talk about their respective Valentine’s Day cards for each other. He wanted him to have everything before he talked to him.
Or maybe he should be on the phone with him when the flowers arrived, so he could hear his reaction, Wirt wondered on the morning of Valentine’s Day, pacing his bedroom with the letter in hand. Yes, he’d do that. He’d call a few minutes before ten-thirty Pacific Standard Time. Wirt glanced at one of his three bedroom clocks. He still had two hours to go.
Lips pressed together, he toyed with the fold of the envelope absently. He really wanted to see what it was. But he could wait. He could definitely, absolutely wait.
Wirt sat down on the edge of his bed and opened the envelope. No, no he couldn’t. Dipper would understand, and this way he could collect his thoughts so he could properly gush over it without sounding like a complete idiot.
It was hand-written. Wirt grinned brightly as he recognized Dipper’s script, missing how familiar his handwriting had become while watching him piece together mysteries. Wirt, he traced the lines of his name with his thumb, careful not to smear or smudge it, then started to read.
Wirt,
I am not a poet.
I have a really pathetically full trash can filled with proof of how not a poet I am, so you’re getting a list instead.
He read it once. Then he read it again. The third time he read it, his lips formed each word as his heart finally decided to start beating again, though the skipping of his pulse made him dizzy. Well, it was either that or the swell of pure adoration that welled up inside him. Wirt clasped his hand over his mouth, trembling as he read it a fourth time.
I love that you’re brave. I love that you can be hyperventilating about something, but will still do it. I love the way you make me trust you. I love the way you make me believe that you’ll always be there.
When he was brave, when he was scared. Every little thing about him, it seemed, was documented there on paper. It wasn’t the first time Dipper had said any of those things, but it was the first time he’d taken the time to write them all out, to try and write him something that resembled a poem, to lay it all out there on the page. Dipper loved him. He loved all of him.
It still blew him away that he was worthy of that.
Wirt shot up from the bed, gingerly laying the letter on his table, keeping it smooth aside from the three creases from where Dipper had folded it to fit it in the envelope. He traced all three lines, then bolted for his phone, fumbling with the speed dial before pressing it to his ear and holding his breath.
“I’m always happy with you,” he blurted out as soon as the phone picked up. “I’m not always laughing, but I’m always happy with you. I love you, too, and I know you’re not a poet, but I don’t care. This is better than any poem I’ve ever read. You’re better than any poet. I love you. I love you, too.”
I figure you're drowning in prompts right now, so I don't actually have a prompt, haha. I just wanted to bother you with a quick question: where did you find your writing buddy? I feel like I need to talk out some of my ideas with somebody, but fandom's changed so much since the last time I got really involved (good Lord, that makes me sound old LOL), and I have no idea where to even start looking. Would you mind pointing me in the right direction? :)
Haha, I am, but I don’t mind it :) and I always like questions! So I’m happy to answer! Though, I’m not sure if I’ll be of much help here.
What happened with syl-writes-stuff and I was an incredible stroke of luck, really. We both fell into an obscure/non-existent fandom at the same time a little over three years ago and just happened to post things to DeviantArt within weeks of each other. We read each other’s things - since we were two of the only people writing - and started talking through the comments there and then she asked me for help on one of her fics and that’s kinda how it started. We both realized that we were strong in different areas and with different characters, but still had a very compatible writing style that was character-driven. So helping each other out steadily morphed into brainstorming ideas together and then just going, “we might as well write it together!” and now she’s one of my best friends that I can talk about anything with and pester for weeks until she finally watches and gets sucked into Over the Garden Wall…
I don’t think I could ever recreate what happened when we met. It was more than just interests and similar writing styles that got us bonding, like we genuinely like the other as a person, too. We’re not always in the same fandoms, but we happened to coincide again this time and the ideas were there.
Don’t worry about sounding old, I’m super old when it comes to being like, “ah, I remember the good ol’ days of fandoms - before fandom was even a word and everyone posted on LiveJournal and roleplayed on Avid Gamers (if any of my followers even know what Avid Gamers was, just know that I love you all and we have a special bond now). Anyway, I guess the right direction would be to read a lot of fics that are written in a style that is very similar to your own where you can tell the author cares as much about the characters and the universe as you do. AO3 would probably be your best bet right now, aside from sending messages on Tumblr. Comment on their things, then maybe ask if they are open to bouncing some ideas around with you. Make sure to offer the same courtesy to them, I know it might seem like a given, but I’ve found that sometimes that’s not the case. If there’s one thing I know about writers in general it’s that we love to talk about our ideas and ask, “Do you think this is plausible? Am I reaching too far here? Would this destroy people too much?” So chances are, they’d appreciate being able to have a back and forth with you.Â
Sorry I don’t have a better answer! Like I said, it was an incredible stroke of good fortune that we met when we did and we’ve known each other for going on four years now. (Holy moly, hot dog, it’ll be four years this November, won’t it?) I wish you luck though!
