I ended up spending the end of this year writing an unexpected sequel and the holiday fic-a-thon piece (and epilogue), so who knows what next year will bring! But here's what I have current full outlines/partial drafts of:
In Between Moments: Pont Neuf - Lois isn’t having a good day, but Superman had a great one. Whose mood will come out on top by the end of the night? An in-universe, out-of-episode scene somewhere amidst
Barbarians at the Planet. This will probably be done in the late winter/early spring.
In Between Moments: All Fallen Down - A super-short, Clark-centric rewrite of
All Shook Up. This one will likely be posted mid-March.
In Between Moments: Soup - Lois is out with the flu. Clark eventually gets worried enough that he heads over to take care of her, even though he finds himself a little out of his element. This one actually may fit into a larger story, but for now it's a waffy little snack. Early season 2. Depending on how long the story wants to be, maybe late spring, or late summer? The longer it gets, the later it will be posted.
Aftermath: What if Lois had lost her memory at a crucial time for the series, instead of Clark? The stage is set for Lex’s proposal, but is Lois still the same person without her memories? Seeing her life without the bias of personal baggage makes her re-evaluate her decisions and relationships. Inspired by
All Shook Up, this story is set near the end of Season 1, immediately after
Fly Hard. This is a longer story, and will likely be complete nearer the end of the year.
Story of the Century: A sprawling, epic-sized story set in an Elsewhere Season 2, heavily referencing
The Rivals and the Luthor empire of Season 1. ...this is technically 'upcoming' but I'm guessing 2026 at this point.
Resurrection: A story set in Season 2, post-TOGOM, in a world where Clark didn’t make it back. This is a resurrection story, and should feel pretty familiar if you've read my other writing so far. This will probably be done in the late winter/early spring? It's 'complete' but in the final editing stages. Here's an excerpt from the little epilogue that is now twice the length of the original fic:
The first gun went off, striking just to her right.
“Superman! Help!” she shrieked.
At least partially obscured by the van, she went still and curled into a fetal position, low to the ground, to create less of a target. No sense in helping the violent fools.
The first shot was followed by a second, closer this time, and pinging off the metal frame just above her.
She tightened herself into an even smaller ball.
A third shot, closer still.
“Superman! Now!”
She heard the unmistakable sound of a semi-automatic.
She sent a plea out into the universe. Please don’t let me die at the hands of thugs this epically stupid.
The rain of bullets began in a staccato hail – and just as suddenly became muffled.
“You lost the bet this week,” came a voice in her ear.
“I lost the bet this week,” she acknowledged in relief, still lying on her side, but now relaxing, huddled safely under his cape, his steel frame between her and the gunmen.
“Are you—“
“I think I’m fine,” she said, not moving as her heart rate slowed, knowing that he was already scanning her anyway.
“Why are you covered in…” he sniffed. “Oil?”
That was a long story.
She sighed, then grumbled, “There’s a vat of it in the back.”
“And you wanted to see what was at the bottom?”
She didn’t dignify him with a reply.
A fluorescent bulb caught a stray bullet above them and exploded. He leaned over her a little further and twitched his cape up to fully cover her head, protecting her from the sparks that rained down.
Tiny glass fragments showered the ground around them like tinkling iridescent snow.
It would have been pretty, if not for the threat that one spark would set her on fire.
He glanced back over his shoulder and a second later she heard one of the punks drop their gun, screeching over the pain in his hand.
“Lois?”
That level of untamed mischief in his voice was never a good sign.
All she wanted was a hot bath somewhere far away from all the gun-fire and broken glass, but she’d just bet that her impenetrable shield would continue to sit there immovably until he’d had his fun. It’s not like the idiots behind them were really a threat at this point. She could hear two of them trying to work out how the still-melting gun had become welded to the floor.
“Yes?” she ground out.
“Why are you barefoot?”
She could hear his smile, which added another layer of annoyance heaped upon this entire, awful, misbegotten day.
And honestly, were these punks ever going to stop shooting? All they were doing was keeping her pinned in place so that he could tease her. She wouldn’t forgive them for that as easily as she would for the bullets.
“I broke a heel,” she said, fully aware that it came out as a whine. She’d liked that pair.
“That means shoe shopping this weekend,” he replied cheerily. “You like shoe shopping.”
The words sounded placating, but she didn’t have to look at him to know that he was laughing at her again.
“Oh, shut up.”
He didn’t know it yet, but he was definitely flying her to Milan for those new heels after this was over.
