River ,'Safe'
Where the Buffistas let their fanfic creative juices flow. May contain erotica.
Susan, I loved that. It was very nice. I noticed one thing:
She loves the way his pale skin and pale hair reflect back every little bit of light in the dim basement, and she runs her hands over her shoulders and down his back. She wants to memorize what he feels like.
she runs her hands over her shoulders?
Plei, lovely, as usual.
Connnnnnnnnnnieeeeeeeeee! You can't leave it there! No, more, yes, damn it!
she runs her hands over her shoulders?
Good catch! I must've read the damn thing ten times and not noticed, because my brain helpfully sees only what I meant to say.
Not sure if I can post my Sunday 100 here; it's spoilery for "Chosen".
We're NAFDA, post away, but warn.
Cool. Consider yourself warned, if you haven't seen "Chosen" then.
Roadside Roses (spoilery for Chosen)
He had left the schoolbus as everyone slept.
They were miles from where Sunnydale had once stood. So many memories, summer days, books smelling of the Library's mysterious alchemy and the green ichor that was the blood of demons; training with Buffy, researching with Willow. So young, so strong, so many.
He picked roses from the edge of the road, where they'd been planted as a windbreak for grapevines. In the chilly sublight just before morning, he scratched himself on thorns, twining the stems together, setting the wreath down.
"Goodbye, Joyce," he said quietly, and went back to the bus.
deborah - I just saw that on the journal. You made me cry.
I have to catch up with this thread. I am 122 posts behind, and it's my new favorite.
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Here's my drabble -
Set After the BtVS finale, 7.22, Chosen
(warning - it's really, really, self-indulgent bad!fic - I was feeling sniffly)
“So… goodbye, huh? Catch up with the others. My folks are in Oxnard. I know where to find them,” chokes Xander.
“Xander. No. This is goodbye to the demons in our past. The good comes with us, into the future. That’s the point,” she says. She turns, crying. He doesn’t see.
“Okay,” he says, not believing, not understanding, not daring. Then, of course, he stumbles. The contents of his suitcase spill everywhere.
She rushes back to help, as he’s frantically stuffing his things back into his luggage. He doesn’t look up, until he hears Buffy ask, “Can I have you?”
P.M. Marcontell "Bitchy Fic: It Could Be Plot Bunnies" May 23, 2003 12:55:33 am EDT
Plei - I am still in love with the erasing - in love with it.
Susan - your turn at this was wonderful, too. I've never really written sex scenes. I don't know how. Yours had a natural flow.
It's funny, now that it's over, I am enjoying Spike/Buffy again, where before it ended, I couldn't bear the thought. I'd fill in that scene between the across-the-basement stare and the school bus, but the two of you have left me sated.
Plei - I am still in love with the erasing - in love with it.
I'm Oxy Clean!
(Says the girl who once described Xander as "the Oxy Clean of the Scoobs," and loves the stuff beyond reason.)
Sunday100 drabble:
He braced his hands against the slick, torn vinyl of the seats. The memory of her scent had drawn him here. Closing his eyes, his mind enveloped him in it... close, warm, sweet.
He could feel every hair on his body twitch, readying to grow, prickling just as the tears prickled his eyes.
The traces of scent that remained on the seat next to him were not the same.
He had heard what happened when he left her before, how much pain she’d felt. This time he knew it would make things better. This time he was leaving for her.