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Doctor Who and the Invasion of the Smol Beans (a.k.a. Smol Bean III) by TheSaddleman for UniverseOnHerShoulders
28 Mar 2017
Clara Oswald's friend, Nina, strikes again as she ropes Clara and the Doctor into helping to advertise an imported Canadian confection on the banks on the Thames, which involves Clara having to get into character in a way she doesn't appreciate. Hint: a polar bear costume is involved. That's only the beginning of what becomes a surprisingly enlightening Saturday afternoon for Clara. A contribution for Whouffaldi Week 2017.
- Part 3 of Smol Bean
Fandoms: American Horror Story: Cult, American Horror Story: Apocalypse, American Horror Story: Murder House
20 Oct 2019
Life six feet underground at 4318 Commodore Court changes for Winter with the arrival of an immigrant even she will be the first to call illegal. Kai, meanwhile, sinks his teeth into the throbbing jugular of a fresh narcissistic supply.
"Time is not a flat circle. That's just stupid. Time is a plastic straw. We don't look at it laying on the melamine anymore. We pick it up and gaze through it. Now is the time to meme. Now is the time to evangelize. Now is the time without time. It's okay to be right.”
Predominantly Cult, with Cult vibes and focus throughout. Meandering crossovers into Apocalypse and Murder House. Fair warning, if you weren’t a fan of Cult, this won’t be for you. It’s a Cult story.
Crowley’s in love with one of the Good Guys.
And the Good Guy in question adores butter tarts with an unseemly passion. Enough to speak wistfully of them when they aren’t around. Enough to ask Crowley to drive at ridiculous speeds across miles of English countryside to storm a bake sale, taking no prisoners. Enough to devour the butter tarts on the way home, leaving crumbs on the seat of Crowley’s car (the car hadn’t minded terribly, which was unusual in itself). And enough to leave one for Crowley, saying archly, “Perhaps after you actually try it, you’ll understand.”
Crowley is now glumly staring at this butter tart, letting its flavour spread across his forked tongue, and thinking: How do I become a butter tart?
Crowley decides this is the time to really make a play for Aziraphale's heart. And, being an absolute idiot, he decides the way to do it is through his stomach. Sort of. Highlights: self-indulgent narration, unusually obtuse demons, increasingly confused angels, and a deliciously happy ending.