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sparkindarknessLong time no see? Well, I admit that a lot of my time has been spent on political rants on my other journal about the most unwelcome visitor to these shores since plague carrying rats first arrived during the Dark Ages.
We also had a Blood Donar visit, which always causes much guilt. All my family give blood, I hate that I don't.
A big yey to the Massachusets(sp?) ruling. Massive yay actually - one more step, ONE MORE STEP. Which lead to the confusion with the following conversation:
Me: Men can marry in Massachusets now!
B/f: Cool. Hey, we can go there now.
Me: There are closer places that do gay marriages you know.
B/f: Yeah? Where we going then? *grins* *starts to go to work*
Me: I dunno, one of the Scandanavian countries does I think...
B/f: So, I'll go book some tickets then.
Me: waaaaait? Did you just..?
B/f: Gotta go, see you tonight! *still grinning*
Me: HEY! wait...
B/f: *Leaves*
Ok... that's put me on uncertain ground... etiquette point?Exactly how do you ask someone "did you just propose to me?" without it being awkward and the other person feeling obliged to ask the question even if they didn't?
Anyway, I'm working on the 'politely ignoring the issue' so far. Hopefully it will work...
Anyway, here's the second half of teh Anne McCaffrey fanfic. Ware smut.
Mirithanth drained the blood from her second herdbeast, fighting S’tan’s will, fighting to gorge on the rich flesh. It burned down her throat, hot, powerful, and strong. The hunger, the fire, screamed within her. She wanted. She needed. Flesh, blood, sex... it all blurred in an erotic medley of hungers.
He held her, oblivious to the hands that guided him to his Weyr. Strong, large, male hands, a dozen pair, more. Softened by the oils used to clean dragonhide they gently steered his oblivious body through the maze of Weyr tunnels. The passion of the dragons leaked into the riders, their hands wandering, across his flesh, fumbling at his tight clothes. He staggered through a forest of feeling, groping hands, mind riding in the passion maddened brain of his shining Green Dragon.
Mirithanth’s cry sounded through the Weyr. A roar with teeth, a shout with fire, a call with lust. S’tan’s eyes shot open, Mirithanth spread her wings and launched herself into the sky in one energised motion. Her wings beat the air, pulling her ever higher, ever faster. The whole Weyr seemed to join her roar. Dragon after dragon danced into the sky after the Green. Small, agile Blues darting forwards to an early lead, Browns powered themselves in their wake, rapidly closing the gap. Even a few of the massive Bronzes pulled themselves free of Pern’s soil, straining after the ascending Green.
Mirithanth was no easy catch. She was no Golden Queen to outrun the larger dragons, she didn’t have their speed over the long flight, or anything close to their stamina. She was a Green, the smallest of dragons, she knew where her strengths lay. The first Blue reached her, a fast, strong creature that’d pulled ahead of the pack. It came within inches of her emerald hide. She rolled, spinning through the air with grace to match even the most skilful dancer. The Blue floundered in her wake, twisting against uncooperative winds to match her sudden arcing ascent. She roared her challenging joy to the cold skies.
S’tan threw back his head, blond hair flying. He laughed to the ceiling his eyes couldn’t see. They’d never catch him. They were too slow, too big, too clumsy! They weren’t good enough by half!
Two Browns had broken forwards, outpacing the Blues. They wouldn’t catch her, they weren’t good enough. They came from either side. She flashed her talons at the great beasts. Her gleaming red eyes burned. Let them come! Let them try! She banked left, turning quickly, almost on a wing tip. The larger dragons struggled to match her sharp turn, pulling themselves round with straining muscles to follow her...
“Catch me if you can!” S’tan’s voice was utterly alien, half-enticing teasing, half rage filled challenge. He pulled at the crowd’s intimate grasps, jerking his arms high.
She jerked her wings, the air cracking in protest. Her body tumbled through the air like a hot knife through butter, she twisted, darting like an arrow to the right. The Browns tumbled from the sky, they tried to match her impossibly sudden turn, wing muscles groaning with effort. It was hopeless. They couldn’t match the Green’s incredible agility. Her triumphant roar mocked them as she stormed away from them
He laughed again. With a sinuous, dance like movement he twisted out of the desperate grasps of the assembled dragon riders. He writhed clear, letting their fingers brush him, but never giving them enough to gain a hold. Never enough to catch him. They would never catch him.
They would never catch her! She tore through the sky now, straining for height, fighting against the pull of the Planet to soar ever higher. The Blues had fallen behind the larger dragons now, energy fagging, unable to match the larger Browns and Bronzes, unable to match her lust fuelled power.
He rolled onto the bed. Hands clutched helplessly at the thick furs, body staggering on the bedclothes as his would be suitors scrambled after him. He flashed his teeth in a half grin, half snarl at his helpless captors. They were too slow.
They were too slow! Folding her wings, she rolled her body downward into an arching plummet. The crowd of larger dragons milled in panic, wing tips nearly brushing each other as the milling pack tried to converge on the plunging Green that wove between them, sailing close enough for claws to brush her hide, but never enough to seize her. never enough to stop her fall.
The Blues below didn’t see her until she had passed most of them. They turned to follow her, their own cohesion lost as they searched for the air space to turn. Already the horde of larger dragons had descended among them. The air groaned with strain, wings corded as powerful muscles tried to match her descent. There were too many dragons, too close together, they couldn’t dart between that enfolding mass like the small, skilled Green could.
She reached the bottom of her arc, barely a hundred feet from the ground, before pulling up into a long sharp ascent. She had done it! She was free of them!
He continued the roll off the bed. He had done it! He was free of them! The huge mass of his bed stood between him and the crowd of desperate men. They milled together, to close for movement, tripping over each other’s feet, made clumsy by need. He laughed in triumph.
She roared in triumph! Barely able to follow her descent, most failed to notice her arcing ascent. The few who saw her were too caged by the mass of their tired fellows. She soared burning with furious victory...
Then saw a Blue dragon matching her rise in front of her.
He turned away from the bed, eyes widening as they stared into the dark eyes in front of him. Two strong hands gripped his arms.
She pulled for height, but he watched her wing stroke to wing stroke. The Blue dragon stretched out his claws, seizing her foreclaws tightly. He held her. Gongorath caught her.
S’tan opened his mouth to speak. T’rell gave him no chance. He pulled the Green rider too him fiercely, burning lips sealing on that gaping moth. He kissed him, hot, strong and rough. T’rell had caught him.
The dragons twined their body together in the burning ecstasy of mating. Necks entwined, claws sealed together, wings extended parallel to each other as the fell in the molten passion of the moment.
S’tan hit the bed, hard. His clothes lost in the molten passion of the moment. His mind rode both forms, part of him riding with Mirithanth in her mighty joining with Gongorath. The other part lay naked on his back among the thick furs. His legs where spread, ankles high in the air against the broad, strong shoulders of the Blue rider. The Blue rider’s clothes had already been ripped from his body, sweat already dripped down his smooth chest and washboard stomach. T’rell pushed himself inside S’tan, no preparation. None was needed. He thrust into the Green rider, hard and passionate, it was powerful, it was intimate, it was harsh and rough, but glorious and unbelievable. It was more than just T’rell’s cock rubbing inside him. It was more than his sweat slicked flesh pounding against his. It was even more than the awesome power of the dragon’s mating. He felt T’rell’s cock awakening every part of him, until his skin twitched from the unbelievable intensity. His body moved unguided, driven by instincts older than time to move against T’rell’s. Their forms melded and moved together as if controlled by one mind.
Their forms melded and moved together as if controlled by one mind. Green and Blue hides gleamed in the morning sunlight, a multi-coloured gem descending to Pern afire with passion and pleasure. It was immense to watch. It was incredible to feel, a wave of lust, pure sex and sensuality rolled through the Weyr, stirring the passion of all within. It was beautiful.
T’rell thrust with all his might, eyes glazed and burning, riding with his dragon, riding Mirithanth, riding S’tan. He gasped and growled, incoherent and near silenced by the wash of sensations through him. S’tan’s voice cried out what he could not. No more coherent, his voice battered the walls and raised the ceiling, animal sounds of power that transcended language and spoke straight to every shining nerve of the body. S’tan’s nails clawed down T’rell’s chest and arms, flailing in the grip of the Blue rider’s plunging cock.
The ground came ever closer, dangerously close as the dragons remained locked together, unable to fly even if they could think beyond the overwhelming, raging sex.
S’tan’s back bowed, until only his hips and shoulder’s touched the bed, his cries reached a desperate crescendo, and he came, scalding and wondrous. The orgasm was so powerful it washed away all thought, scouring away even his connection to Mirithanth. For a few shining, beautiful seconds he was no longer a person, just a shining ball of pure erotic joy.
With an indescribably roar, the two dragons parted, barely a dozen feet from the ground. With tired wing beats the pulled, exhausted out of the dive, to low, tired level flight. Their passion spent, their lust fled, taking the last vestiges of their might endurance with it, the two dragons wearily flew back to the Weyr, too tired to fly between.
S’tan collapsed. His legs hit the bed as T’rell collapsed beside him, one arm dangling lazily across the Green rider’s stomach. With agonising slowness, the Blue rider turned his head to look at the panting Green rider next to him. His face was split by a wide grin that matched the gleam in his dark eyes.
“I knew he could catch her.”
S’tan chuckled, he couldn’t manage a laugh.
“I hoped he could.”
So did I...
He smiled at his dragon’s words, then leaned forward and kissed the Blue rider.
We also had a Blood Donar visit, which always causes much guilt. All my family give blood, I hate that I don't.
A big yey to the Massachusets(sp?) ruling. Massive yay actually - one more step, ONE MORE STEP. Which lead to the confusion with the following conversation:
Me: Men can marry in Massachusets now!
B/f: Cool. Hey, we can go there now.
Me: There are closer places that do gay marriages you know.
B/f: Yeah? Where we going then? *grins* *starts to go to work*
Me: I dunno, one of the Scandanavian countries does I think...
B/f: So, I'll go book some tickets then.
Me: waaaaait? Did you just..?
B/f: Gotta go, see you tonight! *still grinning*
Me: HEY! wait...
B/f: *Leaves*
Ok... that's put me on uncertain ground... etiquette point?Exactly how do you ask someone "did you just propose to me?" without it being awkward and the other person feeling obliged to ask the question even if they didn't?
Anyway, I'm working on the 'politely ignoring the issue' so far. Hopefully it will work...
Anyway, here's the second half of teh Anne McCaffrey fanfic. Ware smut.
Mirithanth drained the blood from her second herdbeast, fighting S’tan’s will, fighting to gorge on the rich flesh. It burned down her throat, hot, powerful, and strong. The hunger, the fire, screamed within her. She wanted. She needed. Flesh, blood, sex... it all blurred in an erotic medley of hungers.
He held her, oblivious to the hands that guided him to his Weyr. Strong, large, male hands, a dozen pair, more. Softened by the oils used to clean dragonhide they gently steered his oblivious body through the maze of Weyr tunnels. The passion of the dragons leaked into the riders, their hands wandering, across his flesh, fumbling at his tight clothes. He staggered through a forest of feeling, groping hands, mind riding in the passion maddened brain of his shining Green Dragon.
Mirithanth’s cry sounded through the Weyr. A roar with teeth, a shout with fire, a call with lust. S’tan’s eyes shot open, Mirithanth spread her wings and launched herself into the sky in one energised motion. Her wings beat the air, pulling her ever higher, ever faster. The whole Weyr seemed to join her roar. Dragon after dragon danced into the sky after the Green. Small, agile Blues darting forwards to an early lead, Browns powered themselves in their wake, rapidly closing the gap. Even a few of the massive Bronzes pulled themselves free of Pern’s soil, straining after the ascending Green.
Mirithanth was no easy catch. She was no Golden Queen to outrun the larger dragons, she didn’t have their speed over the long flight, or anything close to their stamina. She was a Green, the smallest of dragons, she knew where her strengths lay. The first Blue reached her, a fast, strong creature that’d pulled ahead of the pack. It came within inches of her emerald hide. She rolled, spinning through the air with grace to match even the most skilful dancer. The Blue floundered in her wake, twisting against uncooperative winds to match her sudden arcing ascent. She roared her challenging joy to the cold skies.
S’tan threw back his head, blond hair flying. He laughed to the ceiling his eyes couldn’t see. They’d never catch him. They were too slow, too big, too clumsy! They weren’t good enough by half!
Two Browns had broken forwards, outpacing the Blues. They wouldn’t catch her, they weren’t good enough. They came from either side. She flashed her talons at the great beasts. Her gleaming red eyes burned. Let them come! Let them try! She banked left, turning quickly, almost on a wing tip. The larger dragons struggled to match her sharp turn, pulling themselves round with straining muscles to follow her...
“Catch me if you can!” S’tan’s voice was utterly alien, half-enticing teasing, half rage filled challenge. He pulled at the crowd’s intimate grasps, jerking his arms high.
She jerked her wings, the air cracking in protest. Her body tumbled through the air like a hot knife through butter, she twisted, darting like an arrow to the right. The Browns tumbled from the sky, they tried to match her impossibly sudden turn, wing muscles groaning with effort. It was hopeless. They couldn’t match the Green’s incredible agility. Her triumphant roar mocked them as she stormed away from them
He laughed again. With a sinuous, dance like movement he twisted out of the desperate grasps of the assembled dragon riders. He writhed clear, letting their fingers brush him, but never giving them enough to gain a hold. Never enough to catch him. They would never catch him.
They would never catch her! She tore through the sky now, straining for height, fighting against the pull of the Planet to soar ever higher. The Blues had fallen behind the larger dragons now, energy fagging, unable to match the larger Browns and Bronzes, unable to match her lust fuelled power.
He rolled onto the bed. Hands clutched helplessly at the thick furs, body staggering on the bedclothes as his would be suitors scrambled after him. He flashed his teeth in a half grin, half snarl at his helpless captors. They were too slow.
They were too slow! Folding her wings, she rolled her body downward into an arching plummet. The crowd of larger dragons milled in panic, wing tips nearly brushing each other as the milling pack tried to converge on the plunging Green that wove between them, sailing close enough for claws to brush her hide, but never enough to seize her. never enough to stop her fall.
The Blues below didn’t see her until she had passed most of them. They turned to follow her, their own cohesion lost as they searched for the air space to turn. Already the horde of larger dragons had descended among them. The air groaned with strain, wings corded as powerful muscles tried to match her descent. There were too many dragons, too close together, they couldn’t dart between that enfolding mass like the small, skilled Green could.
She reached the bottom of her arc, barely a hundred feet from the ground, before pulling up into a long sharp ascent. She had done it! She was free of them!
He continued the roll off the bed. He had done it! He was free of them! The huge mass of his bed stood between him and the crowd of desperate men. They milled together, to close for movement, tripping over each other’s feet, made clumsy by need. He laughed in triumph.
She roared in triumph! Barely able to follow her descent, most failed to notice her arcing ascent. The few who saw her were too caged by the mass of their tired fellows. She soared burning with furious victory...
Then saw a Blue dragon matching her rise in front of her.
He turned away from the bed, eyes widening as they stared into the dark eyes in front of him. Two strong hands gripped his arms.
She pulled for height, but he watched her wing stroke to wing stroke. The Blue dragon stretched out his claws, seizing her foreclaws tightly. He held her. Gongorath caught her.
S’tan opened his mouth to speak. T’rell gave him no chance. He pulled the Green rider too him fiercely, burning lips sealing on that gaping moth. He kissed him, hot, strong and rough. T’rell had caught him.
The dragons twined their body together in the burning ecstasy of mating. Necks entwined, claws sealed together, wings extended parallel to each other as the fell in the molten passion of the moment.
S’tan hit the bed, hard. His clothes lost in the molten passion of the moment. His mind rode both forms, part of him riding with Mirithanth in her mighty joining with Gongorath. The other part lay naked on his back among the thick furs. His legs where spread, ankles high in the air against the broad, strong shoulders of the Blue rider. The Blue rider’s clothes had already been ripped from his body, sweat already dripped down his smooth chest and washboard stomach. T’rell pushed himself inside S’tan, no preparation. None was needed. He thrust into the Green rider, hard and passionate, it was powerful, it was intimate, it was harsh and rough, but glorious and unbelievable. It was more than just T’rell’s cock rubbing inside him. It was more than his sweat slicked flesh pounding against his. It was even more than the awesome power of the dragon’s mating. He felt T’rell’s cock awakening every part of him, until his skin twitched from the unbelievable intensity. His body moved unguided, driven by instincts older than time to move against T’rell’s. Their forms melded and moved together as if controlled by one mind.
Their forms melded and moved together as if controlled by one mind. Green and Blue hides gleamed in the morning sunlight, a multi-coloured gem descending to Pern afire with passion and pleasure. It was immense to watch. It was incredible to feel, a wave of lust, pure sex and sensuality rolled through the Weyr, stirring the passion of all within. It was beautiful.
T’rell thrust with all his might, eyes glazed and burning, riding with his dragon, riding Mirithanth, riding S’tan. He gasped and growled, incoherent and near silenced by the wash of sensations through him. S’tan’s voice cried out what he could not. No more coherent, his voice battered the walls and raised the ceiling, animal sounds of power that transcended language and spoke straight to every shining nerve of the body. S’tan’s nails clawed down T’rell’s chest and arms, flailing in the grip of the Blue rider’s plunging cock.
The ground came ever closer, dangerously close as the dragons remained locked together, unable to fly even if they could think beyond the overwhelming, raging sex.
S’tan’s back bowed, until only his hips and shoulder’s touched the bed, his cries reached a desperate crescendo, and he came, scalding and wondrous. The orgasm was so powerful it washed away all thought, scouring away even his connection to Mirithanth. For a few shining, beautiful seconds he was no longer a person, just a shining ball of pure erotic joy.
With an indescribably roar, the two dragons parted, barely a dozen feet from the ground. With tired wing beats the pulled, exhausted out of the dive, to low, tired level flight. Their passion spent, their lust fled, taking the last vestiges of their might endurance with it, the two dragons wearily flew back to the Weyr, too tired to fly between.
S’tan collapsed. His legs hit the bed as T’rell collapsed beside him, one arm dangling lazily across the Green rider’s stomach. With agonising slowness, the Blue rider turned his head to look at the panting Green rider next to him. His face was split by a wide grin that matched the gleam in his dark eyes.
“I knew he could catch her.”
S’tan chuckled, he couldn’t manage a laugh.
“I hoped he could.”
So did I...
He smiled at his dragon’s words, then leaned forward and kissed the Blue rider.
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(no subject)
Date: 2003-11-21 11:54 pm (UTC)Oh, and... You're back! *pounce*
And also yay on the Massechusettes thing. *bounce*
So were you one of the people out protesting when Bush got there? *tries to remember how close to London you are*
You are going to keep us updated about this maybe-proposal, right? Right?
(no subject)
Date: 2003-11-22 04:16 am (UTC)On the fic: LOVELOVELOVE THIS! ::purrs happily:: Specially love how both matings mirror one another . . . my favorite bit was how T'rell's blue snuck up on the green . . . and there's T'rell, on the other side of the bed, sneaking up on S'tan while all the other riders are in a big clumsy gormless not. LOVE THAT.
On the almost-proposal: It makes me foolishly happy to know that your boyfriend loves you that much! Even if it never happens, it's just so cool and sweet and wonderful that he wants to . . . ::is smilingly stupidly with a dopey look on my face:: It's just . . well, cool that one of my friends has someone who loves them that much . . . and also cool that there actually *is* that much love in the world. ::shrugs:: Just makes me happy is all. Oh, and if he does ask properly - if you don't say yes I'm sending the hisem to whop you one. ::grins::
(no subject)
Date: 2003-11-23 12:20 am (UTC)Yup, I'm back, and hope to stay back for a while. Life is hectic though...
I wanted to be, and distance wasn't a factor even though I'm in the north of England (near York), but like many many many people it was timing that was a problem. Most people have day jobs, college, uni, school etc etc, we can't traipse half way across the country to London no matter how much we loathe Bush the dictator. I think the protests could easily have been twice or three times as large if it had fallen on a weekend.
So far both of us have lived in the happy land of "never happened, was just a joke" but, 'course I'll update should anything come of it. Personally I'm not sure I know what I want to happen.
(no subject)
Date: 2003-11-23 12:27 am (UTC)It actually hit me to mirror the two matings about half way through the fic, with much butchering and editing and sudden conflicts, but I'm happy how it turned out. And you ahve to be clever to catch Mirithanth - or turn teh flight into a really long slog - she's fast but doesn't have any stamina, then a Brown or Bronze will catch her every time over a Blue.
The almost-possible-maybe proposal was cool, I mean, vene if it was just a joke, it's still major that he felt he could make the joke... I still don't know what to think and will probably make a post on it, but yes, I am incredily happy, and incredibly confused and a little frightened.