long time no scribe-y.
Can't help but feel the depression has been partlyy a consequence of this, but I think it has more to do with the fact that I've allowed my autistic self to dominate me; even if without creating any routines. The very vehemence with which I've tried to not get into self-debilitating routines may have become one in itself.
Anyhow; someone, whose birthday it is today, recc'd me in one of her buffyverse top 5's, and that may have guilt-tripped a switch in my brain that has started actual writing of words; literally with pen on paper, but also the typing and editing of same here and now.
Subject line says collection, which should mean more than one, but we shall see where this goes. I have no idea how many of these will get written; certainly not all in time for red_satin_doll's birthday, which is today!
CHARACTERS: Faith, Tara,
A/N: Though these stories in this collection of stories are, or should be, inter-connected, they will also be part of the femalehusband!verse. For purposes of in-verse continuity/spoilers; we are in early days of Faith and Tara sharing the same abode; though it is more than two years since Tara enacted the Sunnydale-destroying spell; which itself occurs two years later in this timeline than the similar spell that Willow performed in canon. What happened to the two in between, and in the alternative timeline leading to Sunnydale's destruction will hopefully get explored later and elsewhere and elsewhen.
~ I should also like to thank my kitteh, Yasha, for his able assistance in sitting on my lap; laptop and typing notwithstanding, his keen criticism will in no way be responsible if I decide to kill my laptop in the near future.
Carrying the sotted witch upstairs, she parted her from her outerwear and pulled the sheets over her.
Gathering the necessaries, she set about cleaning up after another experiment.
Pretty much routine.
She couldn't recall the first time she'd done this for her mother.
Divesting herself of bloodied clothing; stinking of sweat, cleaners, and now booze, she vowed to burn them in the morning.
Dressing in clean vest and panties pulled from her kitchen stash, she moved in silence up to the bedroom and found herself a spot atop the sheets next to her charge.
Muttering something about 'lumin-something', Maclay farted.
Goddess watch us all,