kerkevik_2014: (Default)
 
   Before it is too late I thought I should add another song to this meme. 

   I've always experienced a sense of loss and resigned continuation from this, 

   Today,as I prepared to find this video again I found myself experienceing a bitter sense of the loss of  innocence about the world's progress to the hoped for future seen in worlds from Gene Roddenberry to Joss Whedon. 

   I've lost friends; fans of Star Trek; Star Wars; Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Doctor Who, because of their inexplicable support of Donald Trump. 

   The loss I sense will of course be powerfully familiar to far too many people in this world. 

   Anyway, here is #4 Dilerzim by Koma Berçem 

  



  Goddess preserve us in these dark times,  

  

  Kerk(evik) TehKek Hiraeth 

 
kerkevik_2014: (Default)
 
  This was my first seriously written fanfic for something like 15 - 20 years; that was worth anything.  There was an extremely long story that was clearly going nowhere; especially with the tendency of most people not to offer feedback (guilty of that myself a lot these days; mostly because I rarely read fanfics these days); as well as another fic that really needs to be radically re-written, and is quite obviously full of the rage I was feeling at Tara's death at the time. 
  This was also written back in the days when I still believed that WillTara was the only pairing for either character; before I started seeing beyond the romantic film that filled my vision at the time. 
  I still love it though; it was the first story I ever wrote that somebody messaged me and asked if they could archive it. Don't think people do that these days, sadly. I can tell you that after that I walked around for days with an expression not unlike I imagine Willow wearing the morning after 'Hush'. 

  TITLE: The Dance of the Happy Little Toaster
  AUTHOR: kerkevik_2014 
  FANDOM: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (S4)
  CHARACTERS: Willow Rosenberg; Tara Maclay;
  'SHIP: WillTara;
  LENGTH: 2000,
  RATING: 15 (for sexual references & language)
  SUMMARY: It's the morning after 'New Moon Rising' (BtVS S04 E19); Willow wakes up in the arms of Tara.
  A/N: 1) I have decided to rate these, at least on my own journal, using the UK film ratings system as this seems much more sensible to me than the experientially homophobic and misogynistic MPAA ratings – others may disagree, and I shall adapt them where they are cross-posted to fic journals with different systems. Naturally there will be border disputes for which I shall defer to the lj's concerned; unless I feel the rating there unjustified.
          2)There are references to a song by The Beatles; the 'Puppy' episode of Ellen DeGeneres' eponymously titles sitcom; a movie that, at the time I wrote this, I had not scene that was referenced in the S3 episode, 'Something Blue', and gave me the title, and finally the last line is shamelessly stolen from what I recall as the very first Lesbian movie I ever saw (not sure of the factual nature of that), but the line has definitely stuck with ever since, called 'Lianna'.
          (nb.) shortly after I first posted this story, I think, on the now defunct (with much regret on my part for the loss of so much fan history; poetry; fics and comments) willtara yahoo group, which led to it being included on the largely moribund sites at http://mysticmuse.net/authors/rayharley/danceofthehappylittletoaster.htm & http://nha.magical-worlds.us/viewstory.php?sid=3435 – it's also posted at http://www.ralst.com/DanceHappyLittleToaster.HTM (if you have seen it elsewhere, please let me know and I will be delighted to include the links), I actually got to see 'The Brave Little Toaster' at a Dundee cinema, and rather enjoyed it.
         So thank you very much to whoever got that line into the script for 'Something Blue'.
         Also there was a reading on a web/radio/podcast site that, as I recall, was principally devoted to what they called 'wiffy'; then the name for Willow/Buffy shippers; though I never got the chance to hear it, and can no longer find anyone involved with the site who may have access to a recording I can download or listen to. If you have any information that could help I should be most appreciative.



   Willow stirred from her slumber just as false dawn was creeping into the room. She opened her eyes carefully, not totally aware of where she was... until her nudity hit her.


   She was naked! In Tara's bed!


   The sudden enormity of her situation made her giggle, albeit quietly.

 
 “Wow!”


   She gasped, hushing herself instantly.

   And it had been wow!

   They'd been intimate before; they'd been (half) naked before, but it had been nothing more than high-class, chocolate-frosted, necking.

   Last night had been an entirely different matter.

   Low-class, chocolate honey-filled, high-caffeine... lust-lovin'.


   Wow!


   She glanced at the sleeping face of her lover...

   Her lover. Tara was her lover.

   Trying not to laugh out loud Willow wondered if she was now an official lesbian, if Tara would get an official Ellen, 'I turned a straight girl' toaster.

   She giggled once more, then smirked as she noticed the tiniest hint of drool on Tara's cheek. If she hadn't been so frightened of waking her up she would have kissed it away.


   Wow.

 
   Then, stroking hair away from Tara's face, she dared to kiss her anyway.

   Ever so slightly; ever so carefully; ever so daintily, on the forehead.

   Closing her eyes she breathed in the still sweaty scent of her lover.


   Her lover. Tara was her lover.


   Wow.


   It was an established fact now. No going back.


   She snorted as she fought back a laugh. Hell, she wanted to shout. To cry out. She was too happy. She contented herself with another gentle kiss, this time on her lover's cheek, then held her breath as Tara stirred slightly.


   For several minutes then, she took in the sight of Tara breathing... in, out, deep in sleep. O goddess, but she was beautiful.


   Her lover. Tara was her lover.


   “She loves you. Yeah, yeah, yeah.”


   She was drunk. She wanted to tell the world. She felt like dancing, and singing. Instead she had to content herself with continuing to watch Tara sleeping. For over half an hour she simply watched Tara breathing, occasionally gifting herself the slightest, most delicate of kisses. On the cheek; on the forehead once, daringly, on the lips. She even stroked Tara's shoulder at one point.


   Finally she felt compelled to action. She could no longer keep her hands off her lover.

   Her lover, she repeated yet again.


   “Tara Maclay is my lover,” she whispered, breaking into a grin wider than the Grand Canyon.

   Was it possible to be too happy?


   Nuh-uh!


   Feeling compelled to laugh... to cry... to shout... to sing, Willow couldn't even begin to decide which impulse was the strongest. And she knew she couldn't bear to disturb the peaceful rest Tara was enjoying.

   She wondered if Tara was dreaming about her.


   Finally Willow carefully disengaged herself from the bedclothes; clambering, reluctantly, free of Tara's arm. Picking up a discarded; oversized t-shirt she grasped her overnight bathroon bag and, with one last look at Tara's peaceful features, she opened the door and slowly meandered down the hall to the showers.

 
    There, despite the early hour, she showered.

   Slowly, langorously, she ran her fingers over her body; touched her lips, brushed her nipples and stroked her belly, teased herself; hissing at just how ready she was, between her legs... everywhere, in fact, Tara had touched her the night before.


   Not bothering with a towel she stepped dripping from the shower and went to stand in front of one of the long mirrors. She placed a finger on her tongue and tasted it, just to see if it felt any different. She finally let out the long-suppressed laughter.


   It tasted like it had recently been in a shower.

   She was almost disappointed.


   For several minutes Willow stared at the face she saw in the mirror, studying the inanely stupid grin on the face of a woman she hardly recognised.


   Yet seemed to know for the first time.


   She seemed to be glowing. Was she glowing? Willow laughed again. Of course she was glowing! She was fresh from the shower.

   Fresh from her lover. Her lover Tara Maclay.


   She repeated it out loud and laughing, brushed wet hair from her face.

   Then she stared defiantly at the face in the mirror and declared...



   “Willow Rosenberg eats pussy!”

 


  Goddess watch over us all, 

  

  Kerk(evik) TehKek Hiraeth 

kerkevik_2014: (Default)
 
   I am watching Fantasia and he was right, Hippos in Tutus aren't as scary as they use to be...  
 
   


   See what I mean? 

   



   Goddess watch over us all, 

   

   Kerk


kerkevik_2014: (Default)
 

 

   TITLE: Crazy Baby

   AUTHOR: kerkevik_2014

   LENGTH: 200

   CHARACTERS / 'SHIP: Tara Maclay; Willow Rosenberg; Faith Lehane / Tara/Faith; Willow/Tara implied.

   A/N: Crazy Baby was track eleven on Relish; story seven in this series. It was originally going to be for another track, but something happened to make me change my mind. This was also written weeks ago; though still in April, and represents a belated story for an otherwise barren month (unless it's still April in Hawaii). I wanted to wait until I'd written out the stories, but one is proving to be problematic.

   Anyway for red_satin_doll another chapter in a long-delayed series.

 

 

 

     Steadily Tara brushed her hair.

     Eyes, black, chill and gleaming, shone back at her.

 

     Eyes closed, she knew.

 

     They laughed; cold and malicious, so dread even The First had quailed.

     She felt tendrils crawling through her, trying; endlessly endeavouring to connect with the web of muscles; nerves; cells and vessels that formed her – its cell.

     Whispers ghosted around her hearing; always there, never quite heard.

     Circling; scenting blood, as Tara applied a tampon.

 

     “I feel like I'm being torn apart and half of me is lost.

 

     She froze, for the longest time; breathed long and hard and stood up straight, placing a finger carefully beside her eye.

 

     “Why not use a glamour?” She froze once more, forgetful, momentarily, that she wasn't alone with her.

 

     Unsteadily she smiled; tried to smile.

 

     “They'll see.

 

     Still, she applied cream to the bruise, more for healing purposes than secrecy.

     Or vanity.

     It scared, the ancient familarity of the actions.

 

     Opening her eyes, Tara stared uncertainly into the mirror.

     She turned at a sigh of relief.

     She reached out and took a trembling hand in her own.

     She knew by that sigh that they were clear in reality; not just her own, but real.

     "Faith".

 

 

   Goddess watch over us all,

 

   

 

   Kerk TehKek

 

 

kerkevik_2014: (Lilac)
Hi,

couple of things today.

1) I've begun the task of re-posting and cataloguing my older fics; starting with one of my first Buffy fanfics here http://kerkevik-2014.livejournal.com/29109.html

2) I thought it woul dbe nice to invite anyone reading this in time to come along to a ds9_rewatch of one of the finest examples of science-fiction on TV; let alone one of the best of all Trek episodes; "Duet" which starts here http://ds9-rewatch.livejournal.com/267869.html in about forty-five minutes. There will be a second chance seven hours later (Midnight for me in the UK) and again on Tuesday (8pm for me).

3) I have started the process of training my brain to my new name; even though I have yet to find the middle name I seek. Kerkevik TehKek; Kerk for short, though I will still always answer to Ray.

That's all for now,

Goddess watch over us all,

kerk
kerkevik_2014: (Default)
Hi,

here is the second in what, I hope, will be a year-long series; starting last night with this poem - http://kerkevik-2014.livejournal.com/14145.html - to bridge the gap between the yearly US National Poetry Months.

This I found in a 2013 collection; edited by Hamish Whyte, called Scottish Cats.

Little Drama by Gerry Cambridge (born 1959)

A bonny night. I step outside ande gaze,
Head back in autumn dark, up into space,
Where stars between the clouds burn with quiet praise,
And think for whatever reason of your face.

Fine thoughts beneath those glittering Pleiades.
Regrets. Goodbyes. The largeness of the night
Summons easy nostalgia for futilities,
Free from the searching glare of window light.

But what's this, suddenly, about my feet,
Rubbing at my ankles? It's the old, black fat tom
Unusually affectionate, startling from
Revery, ragged-eared, with his small thunder.
Is it mere love, or food he wants, I wonder?
His presence somehow makes the night complete.


This one goes out to all shippers, but mostly to that original 'ship Kirk/Spock and the longest lasting Buffyverse 'ship; known as bangel, or Buffy/Angel. Never really liked Kirk or Angel; never got why Angel was so attractive as a partner for Buffy (nor Spike did I really get; despite liking Spike a whole lot more), but the longevity of these partnerships in fandom are undoubtedly part of why the shows were such successes.


Goddess watch over us all,
'tis ok to be Takei,
Ray.

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