Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Carpentry by nwhepcat
Seven drabbles about Xander and woodworking, beautifully realized.
Exploring the Universe by Dolimir
Xander! Willow! The broken yellow crayon! Woo!
Ahem.
A story that takes us from that broken yellow crayon all the way to Cleveland in a few short snapshots of Xander and Willow. Lovely (though I wish the author had remembered Jesse in the list of people they've lost).
The Only Boy in the World by Polly Burns
Willow and Vamp!Willow go on the prowl, and they decide to have Giles as a snack. This is hot and creepy and nails the characters.
A quote:
Once, he used to wish for intrigue, adventure- once, some of this would have passed for intrigue and adventure. But, really, it's sloppy and chaotic, it's not smooth and rich, not sleek with the promise of glory, like what he used to dream of, in what he calls his youth. Wesley Wyndham Pryce reminds him so much of himself that it aches. This is something else he'll never admit. Because, under the leather and the put-on of decadence, he was that bright, once, that irritatingly filled with hope.
***
Carpentry by nwhepcat
Seven drabbles about Xander and woodworking, beautifully realized.
Exploring the Universe by Dolimir
Xander! Willow! The broken yellow crayon! Woo!
Ahem.
A story that takes us from that broken yellow crayon all the way to Cleveland in a few short snapshots of Xander and Willow. Lovely (though I wish the author had remembered Jesse in the list of people they've lost).
The Only Boy in the World by Polly Burns
Willow and Vamp!Willow go on the prowl, and they decide to have Giles as a snack. This is hot and creepy and nails the characters.
A quote:
Once, he used to wish for intrigue, adventure- once, some of this would have passed for intrigue and adventure. But, really, it's sloppy and chaotic, it's not smooth and rich, not sleek with the promise of glory, like what he used to dream of, in what he calls his youth. Wesley Wyndham Pryce reminds him so much of himself that it aches. This is something else he'll never admit. Because, under the leather and the put-on of decadence, he was that bright, once, that irritatingly filled with hope.
***