Very nice Victor, except for the part where there's not enough of it.
Wash: Mal, your dead army buddy's on the bridge! Zoe: He ain't dead. Wash: Oh.
'The Message'
Buffista Fic: It Could Be Plot Bunnies
Where the Buffistas let their fanfic creative juices flow. May contain erotica.
Lee - Jun 29, 2003 6:06:34 pm PDT #4691 of 10001
The feeling you get when your brain finally lets your heart get in its pants.
deborah grabien - Jun 29, 2003 7:16:31 pm PDT #4692 of 10001
It really doesn't matter. It's just an opinion. Don't worry about it. Not worth the hassle.
(head spinning in fourteen directions.
Too. much. juicy. stuff. to. read.
Need to figure out what today's drabble challenge is, too.
P.M. Marc - Jun 29, 2003 7:22:29 pm PDT #4693 of 10001
So come, my friends, be not afraid/We are so lightly here/It is in love that we are made; In love we disappear
Deb, today's drabble is freestyle.
(MORE VICTOR! MORE!)
deborah grabien - Jun 29, 2003 7:46:04 pm PDT #4694 of 10001
It really doesn't matter. It's just an opinion. Don't worry about it. Not worth the hassle.
Plei, let the poor man breathe.
(moremoremoremore)
Am, just keeping up with this is making me dizzy.
My drabble:
If Wishes Were Horses
He lay in darkness, waiting.
Soon, there would be a tap at the door - arrogant, barely polite in its brevity, a sign of her power over him.
Soon she would walk in as if she owned the place, owned his bed, his body, the soul he hadn't seen in over a century.
Soon she would run her fingers down his arms, his nipples, his belly. If she was feeling generous, she might unlock the wall-mounted restraints.
And if he survived a millenium, he might stop resenting that he wasn't her first vampire lover, and he might stop wishing Angel dead.
Am-Chau Yarkona - Jun 30, 2003 1:03:16 am PDT #4695 of 10001
I bop to Wittgenstein. -- Nutty
Thanks, Perkins, deb. No more today, I'm afraid. Need to think about what's happening.
And Victor, I'm loving it. More, please! More!
Anne W. - Jun 30, 2003 4:29:56 am PDT #4696 of 10001
The lost sheep grow teeth, forsake their lambs, and lie with the lions.
Am, I'm going to have to go back and read your story more carefully. I had to skim like mad since I'm catching up after a week of semi-grayness, but what l read I liked very, very much.
Unfortunately, I think that the HP/BtVS bug bit me and bit me hard. If I have any time this week (doubtful), I'll see if I can post anything.
Am-Chau Yarkona - Jun 30, 2003 4:36:20 am PDT #4697 of 10001
I bop to Wittgenstein. -- Nutty
Anne, if going back in the thread is difficult, they're in my LJ, too. t /self pimp
And I'd like to see what you do with HP/BtVS. It has... potential.
Anne W. - Jun 30, 2003 4:38:45 am PDT #4698 of 10001
The lost sheep grow teeth, forsake their lambs, and lie with the lions.
Ooh! I'll try that. It'll be easier to leave comments and stuff. (Makes note to make sure that Am-Chau is on friends list if she isn't already).
Steph L. - Jun 30, 2003 4:56:36 am PDT #4699 of 10001
this mess was yours / now your mess is mine
Arrrgh! I had a dream that I wrote a drabble, and I think it was good (at least in my dream), and I can't remember it.
Stupid brain.
esse - Jun 30, 2003 10:23:33 am PDT #4700 of 10001
S to the A -- using they/them pronouns!
Nice drabble there, Deb.
My Sunday100, freestylin' it: Hereditary (G, Season Six)
Buffy ran a hand along Dawn's back. For a moment she was caught in reverie, remembering her mother doing this, when this year's Prada was more important than a destiny ever could be, and mom's touch brought her from crying over some boy.
Dawn shifted, and Buffy threaded her fingers through Dawn's hair, curling it around her ear. Dawn gave a tremulous smile. "Guess I'm carrying on the grand Summers tradition," she sniffled.
Buffy handed her a tissue. "Well, I can't say I haven't set a precendent," she smiled weakly.
"Why is it always *vampires*?" Dawn moaned, throwing herself backwards.