Thanks. Me too.(On the show, I mean. I'm glad I captured something so close to my heart.) Thought about adding one of those Munch pauses that substitute for "and by ---- I mean porn," but I think I meant it the way I said. There's lots of Xander in the Munchkin...not just TimIand no thank you, Mutant Plot Bunny, we're stocked up here, OK, babe? Just hop on down the bunny trail.) Although at one time, before Kay in LA became such a force, I considered writing a "Homicide" Restless Was gonna call it "Redball" but I took a pill and the urge passed. But I'd still read it, if somebody else wrote one.
Buffista Fic: It Could Be Plot Bunnies
Where the Buffistas let their fanfic creative juices flow. May contain erotica.
Um, not going there. I'm trying to figure out my next vid project. I have 20 days before my shareware becomes payware.
This weeks open on Sunday theme is sex.
This one, speaks for itself.
The Burn of Memory
Buffy remembers.
In bed beside a gently snoring Riley, her legs wrapped around the steel-drum tautness of Spike's thighs, she remembered then, too.
She remembers dark eyes, an average brow not quite ridging up as he slid into her. He wanted to go feral, feeling Angelus, never letting him out up top. So he let out below, slam bang grind, and she would scream. She was never a screamer with Riley or Spike, but with Angel, she would scream because she felt him, power and death and a long slow burn: the orgasm she would never have with anyone else.
Oh my....
Wow...
Huh. This one seems to be producing some reactions...
And here's a second one. As Fay would say, dark as the inside of a cat.
Gone In A Moment
After the autopsy, the doctor told Buffy that Joyce had not had time to suffer. It had been too quick for that: a moment of light, all lights out.
Giles stood at Joyce's grave, remembering. He kept an eye on Joyce's children, on the group around them, his mind circling the question, never to be answered.
What had she felt, in that last falling light? Had she remembered him, hands wrenching her knees apart, holding her as she bubbled under him, atop that police cruiser?
He hoped so. He hoped it would be the last thing he remembered, as well.
Ok deb - gahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.
Yes, I too want hot, pounding sex to be my last thought.
Yeah, I can think of worse memories to go out with....
Then sex with Giles...it'd be worth dying young for that...and um, I seemed to have switched to All-Munchkin-All-The Time...pardon me.