Hi again, everybody!

As I've done the past two years, I thought I'd do a round-up of what I've written in 2015. Here goes!

JANUARY
no stories posted
FEBRUARY
no posts posted - I clearly need the Porn Battle to be fannishly active!
MARCH
Let Me Show You, Baby, I'm a Talented Boy - The Losers: Cougar/Jensen
APRIL
Everything Looks Beautiful (When ( Read more... )

Hi, everybody! Happy New Year!

I've eaten my black-eyed peas (which took forever to make, since I couldn't get the pressure cooker to shut), baked some eggless cranberry-almond-orange loaf, shelled and eaten two lovely pomegranates, made a good start on reorganizing my kitchen, and caught up with a few friends over texts, emails, and phone calls ( Read more... )

When she figured Angel had spent enough time gaping at her, unaware even that she'd spilled most of the blood in setting down the mug, Darla launched herself at him, fastening her arms around his neck and kissing him ferociously. He could taste the B- on her tongue, and the feel of her, soft and yielding in his arms, intensified his pleasure. Darla ( Read more... )

She became aware of the music as she climbed the stairs. It was coming from Spike's room. Her pleased smile broadened; a plan of attack was forming in her mind ( Read more... )

Buffy was going insane. Slowly. By inches. She was in the den, surrounded by her friends and by piles of photocopied articles. She was trying to write a term paper, but Spike's silent presence in the den was proving to be too much for her. She shifted her gaze to Dawn, being quizzed on her vocabulary words by Tara. Buffy inwardly cried in ( Read more... )

Blood was delivered to the Summers house every morning, thanks to Spike's steady paycheck. He spent the rest of it on his girls, resolutely steering clear of personal gifts, choosing only things for the house. If he was aware that the things he bought - bone-china cocoa mugs, scented candles, throws for the den couch - would be enjoyed by Buffy as ( Read more... )

Buffy unlocked her front door with relief. Spike was behind her. He was on automatic pilot, following her blindly and silently. She watched him walk quietly up the stairs, and heard the door to his room open and close. She hadn't wanted to force him to talk. She herself was bruised and battered, and aching inside for his grief. And if she was in no ( Read more... )

He pulled, and she pushed, and their combined strength spilled them in a tangle of limbs on the stone floor. She turned her head to confirm visually what she'd felt on her back: the presence of sunlight. She looked down to see Spike smiling wistfully up at her. "What?" she asked ( Read more... )

The alarm blared insistently. One eye opened to a sliver, and she glared balefully at the clock. //5 a.m.! What the hell was I thinking?// Buffy snaked one hand out from underneath the covers to turn off the alarm when memory came rushing back in. //You were thinking that Mom has to go to the hospital today, and you want as much time as you can get ( Read more... )

"Where have you been?" Angel's accusing voice cut through the still, dark night as he got up from the bench outside the Peaceful Slumber cemetery. Spike eyed Buffy quizzically, realizing from her own puzzled look at him that she'd made no plans to meet Angel for patrol tonight. Angel grew even more irritated when he noticed the silent communication ( Read more... )