janedavitt

I've read two books of Joss essays recently, one based around Dollhouse, the other his works in general.

Both have essays where Wesley's name is spelled 'Wyndham-Pryce' (or Wyndham-Price in the Dollhouse one, I forget now, only that it was wrong, wrong, wrong.)

Both times I snarled 'There is no 'h' in Wyndam' dammit!' and flashed back to Secretary days.

I might not write it anymore. Doesn't mean I'm not still a fan.

FIAWOL.

I coudn't resist this pairing from oxoniensis's Porn Battle.

Faith/Paul Davis, prompt 'comfort'

The fic is here.

715 words, set post-Chosen, R.

It's the birthday of two lovely people today; Happy Birthday slb44 and fan_eunice! Hope you're enjoying your special day very much :;hugs::

It's also the tenth birthday of Buffy the Vampire Slayer; the show, that is.

BtVS wasn't my first online fandom; Heinlein was that, but it followed on very closely. I was posting to alt.tv.buffy-v-slayer in 1999, if not earlier. We emigrated in summer '97 so I started watching the show from S2 and never stopped. I have a long row of Buffy and Angel DVDs in this room, and a shelf full of Buffy tie in novels, script books, Watchers Guides and all the literary analysis type essay books, too.

I'm a fan :-)

And it was the fandom which got me started on writing. May 2002. I found the sister group to the Buffy one; the one with the fic, and after reading some, consumed with a need for some Buffy/Spike, I hesitantly penned my own, which I won't inflict on you here as it wasn't very good. It's on my webpage along with a few other clunkers (I'm a completist) but... no. Not good.

And G rated because I couldn't have written smut if you paid me; way too shy.

That started to change but then whambam, I found slash and Spike started getting happy with Xander, not Buffy, the faithless vampire that he is.

And now I'm a pro writer of m/m romances and it's all thanks to Buffy.

I could write about what the show did for television, for the portrayal of women, the insights into the teenage mind -- but I'll channel Cordelia and make it all about me :-)

Buffy; you gave me endless hours of entertainment, made me laugh, shiver, cry. You let me meet some friends I value immensely, helped me discover a talent I didn't know I had.

You made me think.

Thank you.

And we're supposed to post something to mark the day. This is the first drabble I ever did and one of my earliest fics. It won't make much sense unless you know what Warren was good at.


Bored Now

He’s getting impatient now, strong hands skimming soft breasts, tweaking at pert nipples roughly. His hands go lower, sliding and groping, and, on cue, her moans increase in volume. They madden him, and he runs questing hands through her long hair, fingers splayed out.

He hisses with frustration and slides one finger between those perfect lips, growling angrily as she automatically starts to suck, to lick. His finger explores the warm dampness and withdraws.

Giving in, he throws himself into a chair and stares moodily at his annoying new toy.

“Wanker must have put an off switch somewhere,” he mutters.

A Behind Closed Doors snippet for elementalv.

Because there's always more hidden in the sofa cushions :;hugs::

( Seeing Clearly )

Today is the birthday of one of my best LJ friends who has really made this place special for me and been there so often when I've needed a shoulder to cry on or someone to be bitchy with.

Have a fantabulous birthday disgracelands and here's a Wes/Faith spanking drabble just for you that I actually did research for!

:;much love::


Count on It


"It's a very old tradition, you know."

His hand strokes her bared skin; she whimpers, but he's caught up in lecturing her.

"One for each year of your life…you'll hardly notice that many. Then one to grow on, to live on, one to eat on, be happy on… one to marry on."

"Never been good at math, Wes."

He smiles and pats her arse with an indulgent hand. "No? I am." He traces the enticingly shadowed cleft and decides not to mention that it was also done to soften the body for the tomb.

It's her happy day, after all.

This one's for theemdash who wanted Wesley and Daniel flirting. It got a little serious then a lot silly and defines romp fic ;-)

1651 words, mild R, set in S3 of Buffy.

( Worlds Collide )

justhuman gave into my kitten eyes of hope and wrote a lovely slice of Jack/Daniel/Cameron PWP here.

Those three. Guh.

And helenkacan has been posting some great Giles fic the last few days, well worth checking out.

And, unconnected random thought of the day, that Nascar Old Spice commercial with the men hugging each other has left me humming the 'more we get together' song incessantly and it's slashy as hell in an adorable way which probably isn't what they wanted me to think but I'm unrepentant ;-)

This is a thank you drabble for oscagne who asked for Willow and Sam Carter.

Tricky pairing, so I hope you like my go at it.

It's set in S5 of Buffy.


Too Wide a Net

The red hair reminds her of Janet but the hands that make her breath uneven and her words stumble are less gentle.

In the corner of the room a candle centred in a pentagram gutters, smoke streaming, and Sam's tired mind struggles as she's asked again what kind of snake demon she is.

The red cords binding her wrists are soaked with sweat.

Could be worse. Could be blood, naquada-laced and deceptive.

And this could be a dream, but she's starting to think it's not.

Just a mistake.

She wishes Daniel was here. Daniel would know which Goa'uld Glory was.

This S4 Wesley/Faith is for desoto_hia873 Thanks for the prompt! ::hugs::


Notable By Her Absence



He's wondered what it would be like to live with someone. After Faith's brief stay, he's starting to get an idea.

Messy, and he doesn't mean the ruined, blood-splattered tiles in the bathroom. The raw rage and despair behind every blow makes it less destruction than a reshaping of her world to one where she's not facing a demon in the body of a friend.

No; he's talking about torn clothing, holding her scent, on the floor, a mug of coffee half-full, skinned over and bitter, and the deplorable way she's squeezed the toothpaste from the middle.

He misses her.

This is for lemony69 who guessed the title of the Babel excerpt yesterday.

Faith is over 18 in this.

Stigmata

Her lips peel back in a savage smile, teeth gritted and tight, and her hand's rock-steady as it moves, slash, slick, slide, leaving red, glossy and scarlet and bright blooming over once-paler skin.

He loves watching her work like this, waiting in the shadows. There's never any hesitation; rarely any regret.

Her lips pout and smack together in a satisfied moue and stained tissue paper flutters unheeded to the floor.

And Wesley waits, naked and palpitant, for her to crawl slowly up his body, marking him at every pause, his flushed skin darkening with bruises and bites and lipstick kisses.