Oooh, sniffing around.... I dunno. It's late.
Olaf the Troll ,'Showtime'
Buffista Fic: It Could Be Plot Bunnies
Where the Buffistas let their fanfic creative juices flow. May contain erotica.
Oz's dialogue is so damn simple and straightforward and *understated* -- I think it would just be "likes". YFicMV.
Fine. Take away my late night musings on how a fictional character in somebody else's story would think.
my late night musings on how a fictional character in somebody else's story would think.
Oz sometimes reads physical actions without explicitly pinning motivations to them, I think... and yet without being literal. Um. He has kind of a roundabout way of describing things, sometimes. So that one might not even immediately connect the action with Oz's impression of it?
t /helpful
"wants" is a bit more straightforward that "likes." And I think they've definitely gotten to the straightforward part of the occasion.
Okay, wait, I've forgotten which story we're talking about. Am's, right? Just like to be sure.
By the way, connie. YOWZA! I love Xander.
Ah, yes, did I mention it would be Scruffy!Xander there in the shower in the half-ruined building? And Scruffy!Wes watching him? Razors are in short supply. Dammit, it's my near-post-apocalyptic world, I can make 'em as Scruffy! as I want.
Scruffy! is all for the good. Though I would hope that it doesn't involve small dogs of uncertain parentage.
I'm happy for your husband, by the way. Is it a job that makes him (and you) happy?
The job would drive me mad, because calling people who might not want to hear from me gives me mental hives. Hubby gets this weird vibe going with folks and they'll talk to him where they'd just hang up on others. He does a very good "I'm from wherever you are" fake, so people think they're talking to a neighbor. He's also a scarily good salesman, but no one wants to hire a greying man who walks a little stiffer than he used to, they all want happy polished young people who look good but can't connect with people.
And I have a tiara on my head. I think I shall always wear my tiara when it's time to write.
Angelus/Big Rubber Satan Song Fic.
Greensleeues was all my ioy, Greensleeues was my delight: Greensleeues was my hart of gold, And who but Ladie Greensleeues.
I remember him standing there, mouth stained crimson with blood, eyes flashing like guineas, a certain come-hither glint in them as he looked at me. Why, why does he deny me?
Alas my loue, ye do me wrong, to cast me off discurteously: And I haue loued you so long Delighting in your companie. Greensleeues was all my ioy, Greensleeues was my delight: Greensleeues was my heart of gold, And who but Ladie Greensleeues.
I don't understand it. Is it the girl? Is she prettier than me? Can she kill as well as me? I thought what we had... I thought it was special. I thought I was special. But he doesn't even acknowledge that we once had something.
I haue been readie at your hand, to grant what euer you would craue. I haue both waged life and land, your loue and good will for to haue. Greensleeues was all my ioy, Greensleeues was my delight: Greensleeues was my hart of gold, And who but Ladie Greensleeues.
What is it going to take? I've tried everything. I've said it with lawyers (he's not the type to which one says it with flowers), I've said it with fire. I've wiped out all those who would dare to remove the last bottle of his favorite product from the shelves, and all to no avail.
I bought three kerchers to thy head, that were wrought fine and gallantly: I kept thee both boord and bed, Which cost my purse wel fauouredly, Greensleeues was all my ioy, Greensleeues was my delight: Greensleeues was my hart of gold, And who but Ladie Greensleeues.
I've even tried co-parenting, with the fruit of his large, unfaithful loins. Spare the rod, spoil the child. But he doesn't seem to appreciate it when I spank the lad.