the food creature from scherzo
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…Turns out Burrow’s End was not about cute magic stoats trying to find a new home, but SCIENCE FICTION HORROR that asks the question:
“What if the rats of Nimh just brutally murdered the humans and took over their lab?”
And the answer to that question is an Animal Farm dystopia featuring horrifying mutated creatures but really the story is a heartwrenching drama about a family trying to survive in the post-apocalypse and how they deal with their new reality and the traumas they’ve endured and it’s about what it means to be a parent and a child and an individual person within a family group and how the random horrors we endure by virtue of living lives as small insignificant creatures in our random universe can fuck us up and lead to intergenerational hurt and how it’s up to us to be more open and compassionate towards eachother if we ever want to make things better and heal those wounds but also everyone is a stoat
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i think the best anon hate/hate comment ive ever gotten was “I hope the devil used your spine as a stepladder while you shoved a nintendo DS stylus up your urethra.” like nothing can physically top that ever. anything else will seem pathetic compared to this. this is like a shakespearean curse that will follow my bloodline for ten generations.
Jesus christ, I would be honored to have received such poetry
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“Crowley, you can’t give Muriel Bourbon!”
“Why not? It’s soft, for a liquor, and–”
“Crowley. They are an angel! They have never tried alcohol before! I don’t know what you are thinking.” Aziraphale got up off the couch he had just comfortably settled on, but seemed decidedly un-scandalized, as Crowley noted with slight surprise. It rapidly morphed into delight when he realized why.
Aziraphale excitedly twirled past Muriel. “A dessert wine would be much more appropriate, something sweet to please the palate. I have just the right thing! A Tokaji Aszú!”
He returned a moment later, brandishing a bottle of a liquid that quite resembled the one on the table, if you asked Muriel. But neither of them asked Muriel.
Aziraphale filled another glass, a more delicate one, and set it down beside Crowley’s, before settling on the couch beside the demon. Beaming. Delighted, it seemed, to introduce Muriel to the joys and pleasures of the earth he had loved for millenia.
There they sat, a (former) demon and a (bad) angel, tempting a (true) angel. Together.
Crowley wondered if Aziraphale realized.
[read more on ao3]
[read from the beginning]
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Ted Nivison and Eddy Burback's themed restaurant roadtrip series deserves an Oscar
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y'all are missing out on the v sexy teammates-turned-rivals narrative between shohei ohtani and patrick sandoval (LA Angels pitchers) during this WBC (sandoval pitching for Mexico vs shohei batting for Japan)
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Me reading smut or angst: Completely straight face, no nothing no emotion.
Me reading Fluff:
This post brought to you by ST rarepair week, ILY rarepair writers
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