And since I am fairly certain no one here is reading the damn thing I can complain here that none of my reviewers commented on the references to classical mythology throughout. It was all literary and junk. There were pomegranates, dammit.

t /silly whinge

I agree, I hate when no one comments on what I consider a really well-crafted scene or some nice choreography. Instead it's "Grate! Where's mor?!"

And alas, I spoke too soon. I DID get a comment on that aspect of the story - but it was "why are you so ignorant about ____ that I'm doing my thesis on, and by the way the Latin in the title isn't declined correctly". Thbbpt.

That's ok, now there's a kink meme, and I'm writing stuff for the all-too numerous handcuffs prompts - while at the same time not writing actual bondage into the smut. Seriously, three different prompts for the pairing specifically mentioning handcuffs.

I wrote this responding to the "Crack," challenge in GWW, but maybe it belongs here, more. Justified, 218 words... Raylan Givens and his partner Rachel pulled up in front of the deserted-looking farmhouse. “Refresh my fading memory…what’s this guy’s deal again?”

“You pick the strangest times to care about the paperwork.” Rachel mocked him just so she wouldn’t have to see Raylan messing with that damn hat for the millionth time. Dude knew he was pretty, and that the hat was perfect. Shoot.
“Now that your vanity is satisfied, Mr. Little’s original charge was two counts possession and one count intent to distribute.”

“Not to sound like a bad drug warrior or anything,” Raylan said, “But aside from thinking that pot plant would have to be bigger than my head to sentence him so tough and the idle sort of curiosity that inspires, l had a rough night last night, so my gut instinct is ‘Big whoop’

“Is that your official response?”

“Well, no, my official response would be double-spaced and have Latin I checked on Wikipedia. But that’s a general synopsis.”

“Wikipedia,” Rachel muttered.She checked the paperwork again. “But it’s not pot.”

“He joined half the county in providing freelance pain relief, huh?”

“No, it’s not oxy, either. It’s crack.”

“Huh.” Raylan seemed to be deep in thought. “What?”

“Do you think it would be cheaper to serve this warrant or buy that man a GPS?”

I am rereading my fic (and subsequent comments) in an effort to psyche myself up to get back to writing, and am discovering (yet again) what a crap writer I am as well as deleted comments.

At first I took this as a personal slight, but after some sleuthing, discovered that the poster had purged their journal. Or, I'm assuming the deletion of their account caused the deletion of the stories (archived on another journal?). Man, we were having a freaking conversation! I had enjoyed it!

I hate that I was never able to find my favorite H:LOTS fanfic authors and say, for instance, "Adena 1950" was brilliant...thanks."

I started this Buffy season 5/Justified AU while my computer was out. Help me decide if this a great idea or a disorder.

"Ladies," Dr. Walsh's new T.A., rumored to be a graduate student in abnormal psych or criminology from Kentucky or somewhere, touched the brim of his hat as Buffy and Willow filed out.

"I have to admit," Willow murmured. "I kind of love it when he does that."

"It's not awkward? Because of...you know." Buffy still hadn't found the words for the whole coming out drama with Willow, and it was sometimes painfully obvious. Not quite as bad as being all "Wow, they have colleges in Kentucky," with Stretch over there, but close enough.

Willow stuck her chin out in a modified Resolve Face.
"Lesbians can be ladies, I think. Maybe I should ask Tara."

"God, Will, don't ask Tara that! She barely talks to me as it is...after that she'll probably hate me."

"She doesn't hate you...she's just shy."

"I've got a question about the reading...catch you later?"

"Sure...but don't think I don't know what you're doing." Buffy approached the desk where Raylan had spread fifteen essays on heredity and environment. Which, to be fair to Dr. Walsh, was probably the place in psychology where he felt the ground beneath his feet, so to speak.Much less slippery than the id and superego and whatnot.Although his id definitely noticed the cute blonde in the halter top.

"Riley, right? I was wondering if you could help me out with number four of the Discussion Questions...."

Even with her toothpaste-commercial smile, it gave him a start to hear his immediate predecessor's name out loud, though he tried not to show it. His mother had always said "Least said, soonest mended," despite living with Arlo all those years. Maybe she should have asked a few more goddamn questions, at that.”I’m sorry about that… Raylan Givens, at your service.” Buffy couldn’t be sure, but she thought he was considering tipping the hat again.She couldn’t decide if that was polite or strange, so she just settled for
“You’re not from around here, huh?”

“Was it my lack of a tan or lack of a goatee that gave me away?”

Buffy laughed, a simple, uncomplicated sound that put Raylan at ease that she knew nothing whatever about Dr. Walsh’s secret projects and was just the sort of sunny, simple girl that would take his mind off all the troubles he brought from home.She was damn near as sexy as Ava Crowder, but without Ava’s naked confidence in her own attractions….well, she could be almost as sexy as Ava. “Let’s just call it a combination,” Buffy replied.

“Well, you’re quite right… I’m a recent graduate of the University of Kentucky.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Buffy blushed.

“Um, okay,I realize that I’ve only been in California a few months, but I wasn’t aware that being from Kentucky required condolences.”

“Not at all…it’s just that the way you said that was kinda…tragic.”

I don't know Justified, but the Buffy stuff was spot on.

Thanks...it was fun writing about them again.

Oh you had Raylan down but good.