#the plot of Teeth

[queenlua]

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I— I took the one that added 35k extra words to the projected length of this fucking story ahgeilahgleiag

[nosferatini]

🕊️ The Season of Nightingales 🕊️

🍾🎉! FIC COMPLETE !🎉🍾

IT'S DONE. 🥹

This is it. 

This is the end of the story that made me get my AO3 account. 

I've had this thing burning in my brain ever since the end of S2 came out in the summer of 2023, prompting the immediate need for resolution. 

And now I finally have it. I hope you've enjoyed it too.

Read it from the beginning here:

🕊️The Season of Nightingales🕊️

Fic Summary:

The Second Coming looms large. In this tale following the season after affection's seed is planted with a kiss, Aziraphale must keep his vow to fix Heaven before it’s too late, without asking the impossible from Crowley. As the effort is complicated by unexpected friends, an ex-Inspector Constable, a guileful Metatron, and a Heavenly floor full of the Blessed Dead—Aziraphale and Crowley find navigating their relationship is not mutually exclusive from saving the world from Armageddon. Somewhere, somehow, there is an outcome where the Nightingales sing in Berkeley Square. The angels just need each other—and maybe a little help—to find it.

Final Chapter Excerpt:

Curtains of blossoming flowers and ivy fell over the window, casting leafy shadows against the opposite wall. The trim had been completely taken over by lengthy wandering branches that erupted from the gap beneath the door. Telescoping circles of sunshine cast a dreamy glow into the room. Angelic and demonic eyes adjusted to it, absorbing the yellow-green dawn with growing awe. 

🕊️Finish the Fic from Chapter 36!🕊️

and with that... I'm done!

🖤✨🖤✨🖤✨🖤✨🖤✨🖤✨🖤✨🖤✨🖤✨🖤✨🖤✨🖤✨🖤✨🖤✨🖤

🖤Time for a MASSIVE list of shoutouts!🖤

First, thanks to @addledmongoose, my first beta and one who helped me correct some of my long errant grammar stupidity and encouraged me when this fic (and my AO3 account) was just a wee baby. 

Next, r/GoodOmensAfterDark, the GOAD Writers Guild, and @whickberstreetwriters, and all the lovely mods and modlings who have made those communities thrive!

Next, I bow low at the feet of my beloved betas — u/blackjeans93, @dbacklot99, and @demonsandpieohmy. Thank you from the bottom of my black heart, for putting up with my late ass updates while providing all the TLC I needed throughout these last few months. 🖤🖤🖤

Shoutout to @wiblywoblytimeywimey754 for her linguistic skills on Agnes Nutter!

And finally, thanks to the rest of you. To you GOADers, you GO tumblrs, you readers who leave comments and kudos and encouraged me to complete this instead of leaving it at chapter one. Thanks to the ones who were cheering me on from the sidelines. 

Thanks to all of you.

I owe you all a glass of Talisker 🥃 and a mighty cheers!

To the world, lovelies!

...

Fin.

Hm....

Something feels unfinished.

But what could I be missing...?????

🤔🫣🤭

Pspspsps.... @kotias......... did I do it right? 😇

[bedazzled-applesauce]

okay let me set the stage

an indeterminable amount of time into the future, season 16 comes out in the fall, somehow finangling itself out of the s15 finale. the main plot point being trying to get cas out of superhell. think good omens season two in that it’s more layed back and focused on character analysis and relationship building. dean is worse than we’ve ever seen him. the first 2 episodes are through the perspective of a kinda messed up but overall healthy if not exceedingly worried sam, and occasionally, a not sober nor lucid dean very near drinking himself to death, not ever leaving the library, surrounded by a very large number of open books; he been trying to get cas back. jack needs to be hands off, no matter what, and the empty is holding him to that, non negotiably, so it’s really up to sam and dean to fight against fate itself.

eventually, we do get cas back, somehow someway. there are the supernatural required multiple episodes of “is he gonna make it or not” wherein cas is whitekuckling life, helped along by a gentle but exceedingly awkward and uncomfortable dean. by the time cas is recovered enough for actual conversation, we the viewers are all on the edge of our seats. when dean finally says the well awaited “cas, we need to talk about what you said back then” line, the viewers are vibrating with impatience, having been egged on by a few episodes of unfortunately timed interruptions keeping dean from actually talking about s15e18. cas steps forward, and the show cuts to whatever sam is dealing with at the time. something entirely unimportant. it’s not mentioned again for the rest of the episode.

everyone freaks, tumblr is breaking with the force of hundreds of posts per second, and a light shines through the chaos. the cw supernatural accounts, announcing in some vague but unmistakable way that the rest of the destiel confirmation has already been recorded, but for dramatic effect, the show will air it on november 5th. a few weeks, and a few episodes, past when the post had initially been made. but in the few filler episodes before the big confession, dean and cas have been subtly acting differently. eyefucking each other somehow more often than usual, and much more obviously, constantly just looking at each other fondly, just more of the same “subtext” we’ve been living on already, only amplified, and with witty and annoyed but fond comments from sam. misha has been busy during these trying times, talking about airtight ndas and just building a lot of anticipation in the form of posts with cleverly placed quotation marks. it finally airs, and the big scene they’d been talking up consisted of dean beginning his “we need to talk” before giving up and having the big kiss in an attempt to convey his emotions. they make out very aggressively against deans door, on his bed, steadily ramping up the excitement and loosing articles of clothing, before a fade to black. there’s a clever shot just before the fade though, which is taken from deans desk, their frenzied kissing blurred in the background, as in the forefront, cas’s trenchcoat is hurriedly thrown over the chair, on top of deans jacket with the bloody handprint on it from cas’s sacrifice scene.

they do eventually have the long awaited talk later in the episode, laying in deans bed with that cw classic “bedsheets as low hung as we could possibly get them” shot. the confession is awkward and broken up by a whole lot of making out, and it’s clear that dean is putting into words what he’s actively figuring out about his feelings. he tells a lot of unfunny jokes, and attempts to leave a few times, but eventually dean gets it all out. it’s in this post-sex confession scene that all the speculation over how no one has really seen deans neck in the past few episodes is proven more than just overthinking. hickies litter his neck, from the juncture connecting his neck to his shoulders, all the way up to behind his ear. but it’s nothing compared to the absolutely horrendous scratches on cas’s back, of which the viewers never see, only alluded to by a horrified sam, making a one off joke about whether or not dean was some kind of clawed creature. everything is good.

the last episode of the season is only a few weeks into the future, a domestic cas and dean are gently bickering in the kitchen, dean prepping food before what is apparently a “big reunion dinner” celebrating cas’s return to earth. sam and eileen are being gross and couple-y, seen dancing together in the library before time skipping to them playing footsie at the map table across from cas and dean, who are doing the same thing. there’s a moment during the first few seconds of the scene where dean accidentally taps his foot against sam’s, leading to the generally awkward and embarrassed vibes that a good supernatural episode just wouldn’t be complete without. there’s table consists of jody and donna and the girls, jack, cas and dean, charlie, basically everyone we know who is still alive. everyone is happy, destiel is officially unruined and completely canon, everyone is alive, and the ending is actually good. the end.

[solar-bean]

Little Mokuba & Kaiba bros sketches

[the-ruby-enchanter]

When are we gonna start questioning this blind trust in Lucien?

Can we please stop pretending he's just chillin’ as Rhysand’s loyal messenger boy?? Like?? This man is called Fox for a reason — and last time I checked, foxes aren’t known for blind obedience or playing fetch for High Lords they can’t stand.

He’s out here supposedly helping: 🔹 A man he clearly doesn’t like, who served Amarantha for 50years 🔹 A woman who literally destroyed the only home he ever had, mocked his new one, and then dipped. 🔹 A court that’s using his mate like a chain around his neck.

And y’all think he’s just fine with that?? Sweet baby Lucien, loyal Lucien? Nah. I don’t buy it.

I like to believe that deep down, Lucien is playing his own game. Maybe even pulling a secret alliance with Tamlin to rebuild Spring — not because he’s a villain, but because he’s smart, strategic, and not about to let any court use him like a pawn.

I mean, come on. He’s a fox. It’s time he starts acting like one. 🦊

[boxheadpaint]

I just need to know is that Cackletta paired with Peach? If so, fascinating, I wish to know more - if not, I entirely understand the coincidence of two people standing next to each other in a dynamic does not equate to them being A Pairing

yeas

Reasoning: funny

[andaniellight]

I think for putting up with the Devil so much Frank Castle deserves to at least be the spectator of Matt reciprocating Dex's tantrum and just let him deal with a velcro brat, see if he likes the taste of his own medicine

[fast-burn]

day 13: free use for winter warmers, maxiel, explicit, 1k

If it's a race weekend, there is a whole protocol involved. There are schedules to cross-reference and inconspicuous paths to travel around the back of the paddock. They have to do it out of sight, tucked away in someone's driver's room. Even if the media is expressly forbidden from publishing any pictures, the track is still always crawling with fans who all have cinema-quality cameras on their phones.

At the factory, it's easier.

Max can push Daniel down between his knees, under the table at some boring meeting, and everyone just politely averts their eyes. He can have Daniel in the little office space they've set aside for him to take Zoom calls, or in the middle of the cafeteria, or on top of the RB19 if he wants. Or like now, after another hundred laps in the sim when he's groggy and his eyes are practically square from staring at the data all day.

He catches Daniel's wrist before he can walk past for a coffee break and tugs him until he stumbles and sprawls into Max's lap.

"Max," Daniel complains, echoing GP across the room.

"What? I just need a little pick-me-up." He's already stiffening in his pants. He can usually hold off, but the beauty of this arrangement and of being at home base is that he doesn't have to. That's the deal.

GP looks at his watch. "Alright, we'll take twenty minutes then, instead of ten." There are mutters of agreement, and most people wander off for caffeine and a piss. Daniel starts unbuttoning.

"You're a naughty boy," teases Daniel, eyes twinkling as he shoves his jeans down with his underwear, just enough to expose himself. "Insatiable today. What is this, the third go?"

Max doesn't answer that, just leans forward in his seat and kisses Daniel. There's no language in Daniel's contract about it--the one thing that Daniel doesn't have to give Max, but does anyways. When Max reaches around, Daniel's hole is puffy and hot. Daniel sighs and deepens their kiss, tilting his head and licking into Max's mouth. Max presses his middle and ring finger inside Daniel. He thrusts them a little, curls them, then uses the leverage to encourage him up so he's balanced on the frame of the sim rig, right where Max wants him.

Lube and come slick Max's fingers as he draws them out, leftover from the tail-end of lunch. Daniel's mouth is shiny with spit when he finally leans back enough that Max can pull out his dick. And then Daniel sits right down on it.

Max hisses at the sudden tight heat, can't help but thrust up, hips colliding with the tight muscle of Daniel's cheeks, and then he can't stop. The movement of his cock fucking in and out sounds squishy, sloppy, like Daniel is just a fleshlight that Max has been jizzing into all day. Which. Isn't far off the mark.

"Is it gonna hurt your feelings if I can't come this time?" Daniel asks him, rocking in-rhythm to Max's desperate pounding.

"Yes. No, you," Max gasps, "I think. I think you can."

"Nuh-uh," Daniel murmurs and brings Max's hand to his soft dick. "Here, feel."

Max groans, "Daniel please."

Daniel shakes his head. "You can beg all you want, but I'm fucked out."

It's not fair. If their positions were switched, Max could come all day long if Daniel wanted it. He could just leak like a faucet, dribbling and wetting his clothes with it and everywhere he sat down and everything he touched. There would be no end to it.

Max shifts his hips, thrusts up at an angle that he knows will drag the head of his dick against Daniel's prostate.

"Oh, oh," Daniel groans and Max beams. He feels Daniel throb in his hand.

"See? You can come."

"Nah, don't think so." He leans down and licks up Max's neck, sucks on his earlobe and scrapes his teeth across it, sparks of pleasure tinging in his wake. "You're not gonna last that long, I can tell. It's okay, just use me. I'm good for it. You made me all loose."

Max clenches his abs and his fists and tries to hold on, but then Daniel kisses him again, and well. It's only natural that he climaxes, tired and besotted as he is.

"Phew, that was a pretty nice one," Daniel says as he climbs off Max's lap, grunting like an old man as he straightens his knees. Max has enough brain power to reach up and spin Daniel around, bend him over the steering wheel so at least he can see.

Daniel used to wax, which Max thought was insane behavior and told him to stop. Now he can watch his come dribble out and smear it into the whorls of dark hair around Daniel's hole. He sucks his thumb and his fingers, licks Daniel's ass and slides his tongue inside until Daniel is whining and Max can't taste anything but spit. All clean.

"Okay, I'm good," Max says, and is satisfied by the way it takes almost a full minute for Daniel to get himself organized. Daniel is hard now, but you snooze you lose.

Daniel shoves his palm in Max's face, pushing him mostly-gently back into the seat. "You maniac," he says and rubs the heel of his other hand against the bulge in his jeans. "Look what you did to me."

"I told you that you could come. Go ahead." But the rest of the team is starting to trickle back in now.

Daniel shakes his head. "Maybe I'll wait until I get home. Then you won't be able to participate."

He won't, though. Max is sure of it, that Daniel will corner him on the way out the door at the end of the day and he'll ask for Max to watch, or to fuck him again, because he's not allowed to just take, he has to beg for it instead.

Thank god that Daniel likes this just as much as Max does.

[eosofspades]

sometimes rereading your old writing is like having a cinematic reunion with an old friend by the sea and sometimes rereading your old writing is like pulling teeth and what they don't tell you is that sometimes these are both true for the same piece of writing

[brinnanza]

I won't post it cause I'm not tryna blow up their spot but I just watched an insta reel of a man in his early twenties getting a tattoo of the bite mark of his best friend, the stencil for which was taken directly from an impression of said teeth in the bff's bicep. like this kid pressed a big open mouthed kiss with his teeth to his buddy's arm and then his buddy GOT IT TATTOOED like wow the rituals are SO intricate have you considered just fucking him on the floor to keep it real

[mammoth-clangen]

Love love LOVE this story and the refs of the big cats! Definitely going to be making my own kindred or sounder (my friends are going to hate my new hyperfixation lol)

Woohoo!! Tysm :D

Please tag me if you do end up making OCs, I'd love to see what you come up with!

Also attaching this because it may be helpful, especially re: the last post about how to differentiate Ice Fangs and Fleet Fangs uvu

Art by Mauricio Antón for this paper

[swordmaid]

bhaal’s bride 🔪🩸

my durge yves before the lobotomy 🥳

[tapestryundone]

when the god was made in the image of a man who infiltrated the mind of said god and in doing so made himself intertwined with the form that god took while also being the cause of that form creating a infinite feedback loop of what caused the god and his creator to evoke the very image of the death the creator feared through the form of an animal representing that concept, and the god has faint, undeniably human characteristics given to him by his creator while his creator retained none of it. fuck

[autism-swagger]

This was meant to be a single doodle. I don't know what happened. I think I entered a fugue state.

Anyways! AU wherein Hydra gets their hands on Skye right after she goes through Terrigenesis ❤️

Reblogging is better than just liking.

Yes Coulson still lost his hand. Yes that means the Afterlife plot line happened even though Skye wasn't there. Yes that means she never got to properly reunite with her dad before he got his mind wiped or meet her mom before she died. Yaaay I love angst ❤️

Flats ⬇️

[wantonlywindswept]

Definitely True Facts About Commander Vertex #3

He has negative Force bacteria.

[forgotten Fox AU tag]

"Midichlorians," Patches said, for the third time, his head in his hands. "They're called midichlorians."

"Tiny little buggers that live in your body," Jek scoffed. "I might have barely scraped by my biology modules, but that sounds like bacteria to me."

Patches whimpered.

Jek grinned and reached over to pat his babiest of brothers on the head. Their youngest medic really was too easy to rile up. 

Still, at least Patches was capable of taking a break on occasion, even if it was just to sit at Jek's bedside in the medbay while he recovered from a round of Force cleansing. He always felt a little like the mess hall slop after every session, squishy and mostly-liquid, though the effects had been lessening as the treatments went on. 

Turned out that working in close proximity to an evil Sith overlord for an extended period of time could be 'damaging' and 'harmful to the spirit', and as soon as the Jedi got the okay from Marshal Commander Thorn they'd instituted regular healing sessions for the Guard. Some of them weren't overly affected--the ARF division hadn't been allowed in the Senate Dome that often anyway, and the medics rarely left the infirmary, much less Guard HQ--but the majority of them were on rotating schedules to get their minds checked for Sith residue or whatever.

It was even worse for the Force-sensitives.

No one was more surprised to find Force-sensitive clones than the clones themselves, and a frankly unsettling percentage of the Guard tested for above-average midichlorian counts. That was just those who agreed to submit to the assessment, too--a lot of the Guard refused to do even that. It wasn't like they could be Jedi, and with the war over, what did it even matter?

(Except it did matter, a lot, because apparently evil Sith overlords could also drain the life force from sentients around them, and particularly enjoyed ones with the Force. Palpatine got a little tasty burst of power like they were some kind of energy snack, and it wasn't like the Guard weren't already exhausted anyway.

That kind of siphoning left even worse traces of Sith influence; Jek's cleansing sessions made his bones feel like wobbly gelatin, but Glitch's sessions hurt.)

"I bet Defib's m-count is the highest in the Guard," Jek mused absently as he watched their CMO stalk around the medbay between the beds--and the Jedi--with a scowl on his face. 

Patches lifted his head to give Jek a horrified look.

"Don't say that where he can hear you."

Jek, who lacked both bones and a sense of self-preservation, merely shrugged. Defib had refused testing, scoffing that he didn't need the Force to heal, but he wasn't named after a defibrillator for nothing: he'd brought more than one brother back from the brink of death against impossible odds.

Jek had his suspicions about Patches, too. 

Even with Defib hovering suspiciously over their shoulders, the Jedi healers--there were four of them, led by Master Rig Nema--moved around the medbay with an almost unearthly poise. Jek was more familiar with ordered chaos in the infirmary: medics shouting across the room to each other, rushing back and forth to see how far their meager supplies could stretch. The Jedi were quiet, coordinating with each other soundlessly while still seeming to be aware of everything else happening in the room.

The mesmerizing little dance wasn't even interrupted by the main doors opening, which drew Jek's attention to Commander Vertex stepping into the medbay. The commander had his bucket tucked under one arm, and sharp eyes surveyed the room in a quick glance.

Patches waved at Vertex, because he was adorable. 

Vertex waved back, because he was a sap.

Defib immediately veered off his self-appointed task of looming to intercept Vertex before he got too far into the room. They ducked their heads together in a brief conversation with far too much angry gesticulating on Defib's part, and the calm competency Jek had come to expect on Vertex's. Jek watched, fascinated, as Vertex managed to settle the fuming medic with just a few words and a gentle touch to his shoulder. 

Defib made a bitchy face, but he did seem to lose some of his protective bristling; at Vertex's nudge he sidled over to his desk in the corner of the medbay, dropping into his chair to finally take a break and...to angrily chew on a ration bar?

Incredible.

The Jedi, meanwhile, had continued on with their Force nonsense, which lasted up until Vertex tapped one of the healers on the shoulder and their serenity shattered with a resounding squawk.

The poor Rodian who made the noise spun around, flailing wildly, and would have fallen back onto one of the beds if Vertex hadn't grabbed her to keep her upright. The other three Jedi's heads snapped up in eerie synchronicity, startled expressions on their faces, and Master Nema took a jolting step forward before seeming to register what had happened.

In the frozen stillness that followed, Defib's sullen crunching took on a distinctive note of glee.

"Apologies," Vertex said. "I didn't mean to startle you."

"When did you even..." 

"How can we be of assistance, Commander Vertex?" Master Nema asked, stepping away from her patient to take the place of the still-baffled apprentice healer. Both she and Vertex smoothly ignored the disbelief radiating off the other Jedi, who were looking at Vertex like they didn't know how he had appeared. 

Jek wondered that sometimes, too, but it didn't bother him.

"Hey," he said, nudging Patches with his elbow as the two bigwigs conversed, "What do you bet that Commander Vertex has negative Force bacteria?"

Patches stared at Jek like he'd kicked a baby massiff, and then slowly sunk lower in his chair with a low, despairing whine.

So easy.

[tanukitsuneko-suki]

naki + fuwa