ext_9275 (![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png)
musigneus.livejournal.com) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
sga_flashfic2006-07-27 09:03 am
musigneus.livejournal.com) wrote in sga_flashfic2006-07-27 09:03 am
Entry tags:
Practiced, by musigneus (dark side challenge)
Title: Practiced
Pairing: Dex/Sheppard
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Sheppard is a little out of control, but Ronon can handle it.
Notes: Spoilers for Allies. Can be read alone, but follows Practical, Impractical, and Practicable.
Ronon watched the sky until the departing Wraith ship was less than a speck among the clouds. He knew one of the scientists would be watching it on the screens in the gateroom, making sure it went back to the hive ship like it was supposed to, but he watched anyway. He had to know the Wraith were gone, out of the city.
All but one of them, anyway.
He knew they'd tested Beckett's virus today. He hadn't been there, but he'd heard bits and pieces from a couple of the Marines, and he knew the queen had killed the transformed Wraith. That seemed to bother the Marines, but Ronon felt nothing but satisfaction; it meant the plan was working. The more Wraith who killed each other the better, and it didn't matter how they looked when they died.
The ship was completely lost from sight now, so Ronon turned and headed back inside, looking for Sheppard. He found him near the infirmary, at the center of a small knot of scientists. One of them looked like she'd been crying, and there was an unfamiliar tight, strained look around Sheppard's eyes and mouth.
Sheppard looked up at Ronon's approach, raising an eyebrow.
"They're gone," Ronon reported.
"Good," Sheppard said. His mouth moved in something that looked like a smile, but his eyes stayed hard and flat. "They're not really my favorite houseguests."
Several of the scientists laughed weakly, and the group started to break up. Sheppard excused himself and, jerking his head at Ronon, strode down the hallway. Ronon followed, and was faintly surprised when they ended up in Ronon's own quarters.
The door had barely closed behind them before Sheppard stripped off his jacket and slung it over a chair. He stared down at it, his expression unreadable.
"You want to go for a run?" Ronon suggested, because that's what Sheppard usually liked when he wanted to relax.
"No. I want you to fuck me," Sheppard snapped.
"You want me to fuck you?" Ronon echoed incredulously.
They didn't do that, he hadn't imagined Sheppard would ever want him to do that - and the grim set of Sheppard's jaw didn't really suggest that Sheppard wanted it now.
Sheppard's expression darkened instantly. "That's what I said," he snarled, grabbing his jacket. The look he gave Ronon was almost contemptuous. "But if you aren't up for it, I'll go somewhere else."
Ronon's temper flared. He didn't know whether Sheppard just meant that he was going somewhere else or if he meant that he was going to find someone else to fuck him, but he stepped in front of the door, blocking Sheppard's way. Sheppard tried to shove past him and Ronon shoved back; Sheppard moved as if he were ready to strike and Ronon reacted instinctively, gripping Sheppard's arms and throwing him when he tried to fight the hold. He managed to remember that this was Sheppard and he didn't want to hurt him, so Sheppard landed hard on the bed instead of against the wall. Ronon followed him, pinning him face down on the mattress.
He'd seen flashes of carefully contained violence in Sheppard before, and if he was honest with himself, that simmering intensity Sheppard usually kept hidden was one of the things about Sheppard that fascinated him. But he'd never seen this sort of unfocused belligerence in Sheppard before, and he didn't like it.
Sheppard bucked and twisted and tried to get his knee up so he could flip them both over, and Ronon put all of his weight and most of his strength into holding him down. Sheppard strained against him, but Ronon had both his arms now, one trapped under them and the other wrenched up behind Sheppard's back, and Sheppard didn't have any leverage.
Ronon leaned in and spoke directly into Sheppard's ear. "You want to fuck? We'll fuck. And if you want to fight, we'll fight."
Sheppard made another convulsive effort to throw him off, and Ronon tightened his grip on Sheppard's arm, forcing it higher behind his back until Sheppard grunted and went still.
"But I think you should choose one or the other," Ronon said over the harsh sound of Sheppard's breath, "'cause you've never seemed like the kind of man who wants to be held down and forced to take it while he's fucked."
Ronon could feel Sheppard trembling with fury under him.
"Let. Go." Sheppard bit off each word; his voice was icy.
"Yeah," Ronon said, not letting go. "I will. As soon as I'm sure you won't try to kill me when I do."
The tension ebbed out of Sheppard's body in a huff of something that wasn't quite laughter, and his forehead dropped onto the bed. "I'm not gonna try to kill you," he said wearily, his voice slightly muffled in the folds of Ronon's blanket.
Ronon eased up carefully on his hold, letting go entirely when Sheppard didn't immediately lash out at him.
Sheppard rolled away and sat up on the edge of the bed, resting his elbows on his knees. After a moment he dropped his head into his hands.
Ronon sat up too, putting his back against the wall at the head of the bed. "You plan to tell me why you're trying to pick a fight like some first-year recruit?" he asked eventually.
"Sorry," Sheppard muttered. He dropped his hands between his knees but didn't raise his head. "That was... I was out of line."
"I can handle it," Ronon said evenly.
"Yeah. I know you can," Sheppard said, with a quick look at Ronon. A tiny, rueful smile lightened the grim lines around his eyes.
Something hard and tight in Ronon's chest loosened at Sheppard's smile. He still didn't know why Sheppard was wound up so tightly he'd been spoiling for a fight, but he knew why Sheppard had tried to have it with him. Sheppard trusted him to have his back in this, just like he trusted him at his back in the field. The feeling was so overwhelming that he barely heard Sheppard saying, "Doesn't mean you should have to."
"I can handle it," Ronon repeated firmly.
Sheppard nodded slightly, then looked down at his hands again. "We tested the gas," he said quietly.
"Yeah. I heard it worked."
Sheppard's laugh was hollow. "Yeah, it worked. The queen was very happy with how well it worked," he said bitterly.
Sheppard's Marines hadn't liked it that the queen had killed the transformed Wraith. Evidently Sheppard didn't like it either.
"It was still a Wraith," Ronon pointed out.
"Maybe, but it sure as hell looked human," Sheppard snapped.
Ronon opened his mouth to say that a Wraith was a Wraith, it didn't matter what it looked like, but he stopped himself. He'd had this argument with Sheppard before, more than once. He knew it did matter to Sheppard what it looked like. It mattered to all the people from Earth. It even mattered some to Teyla. Sheppard at least understood the Wraith were dangerous no matter how they looked; that was more than Ronon could say for Beckett and some of the others, so he let it go. He didn't want to argue with Sheppard, and he didn't think an argument was what Sheppard needed right now anyway.
But maybe he should make sure. "You still want to fight?" he asked.
"No," Sheppard said, dropping his head back into his hands and pressing his palms over his eyes. "I don't want to fight."
"Okay."
Ronon rose to his knees and positioned himself behind Sheppard. Sheppard tensed slightly when Ronon's hands settled on his shoulders, but he made an appreciative humming noise when Ronon's thumbs dug into the knotted muscles there, and he didn't move away or say he didn't want to fuck after all.
Ronon worked on Sheppard's shoulders for a few minutes, then slid his hands up under Sheppard's shirt and stroked along the planes of his back.
"Here," Sheppard muttered, pulling the shirt up over his head and tossing it out of the way.
"That works," Ronon rumbled. "Stand up."
Sheppard gave him a long, unreadable look, but he stood, and he let Ronon pull off his boots and his gun and unfasten his pants and slide them down his hips.
They didn't usually undress each other. For the quick hand jobs and blow jobs they normally traded, they often didn't undress at all, and Ronon found that handling Sheppard this way felt strangely more intimate than anything they'd done so far, even more than having Sheppard's cock in his hand or his mouth had.
Sheppard lay face down on Ronon's bed, and Ronon knelt over him and went back to rubbing. He wasn't skilled in massage, but he seemed to be doing well enough from the way Sheppard was relaxing under his hands. Sheppard made more of those appreciative noises, and after several minutes, his eyes drifted closed.
Ronon moved lower, and Sheppard shifted, spreading his legs so Ronon could kneel between them. Ronon worked on Sheppard's lower back before moving his hands even lower, across Sheppard's buttocks and down his thighs. Sheppard twitched but didn't open his eyes. His cock was hidden under his body, so Ronon couldn't tell if he was hard. Ronon certainly was.
Ronon hesitated, looking down at Sheppard's relaxed body. The angle was bad, but...
He bent his head and licked all the way from the base of Sheppard's spine to his hole. Sheppard's body jolted, and Ronon used his hands to keep Sheppard open. He flicked his tongue back and forth across the hole, and Sheppard gasped a disjointed protest.
"Fuck! What- You don't have to-"
"I want to," Ronon said. And he did. He wanted to see Sheppard flushed and desperate and out of control because Ronon made him that way, not because he was angry or trapped or confused.
He licked experimentally, little circles. Sheppard's hands fisted in the blanket, so he licked harder. He vaguely remembered thinking this sounded disgusting, years ago when he'd heard about it in the barracks, but it was okay, and the way Sheppard was squirming made Ronon think it really did feel as good as that one recruit had said it did.
Ronon eased the tip of one finger into Sheppard, licking next to it, pressing hard with his tongue, and Sheppard groaned and pushed back against him, lifting his hips. Sheppard worked one hand underneath his own body; Ronon realized he was stroking himself in time to the thrusts of Ronon's finger and tongue, and it was too much.
He straightened, opening his pants and feeling for the little bottle of oil he used on his knives. "Come up," he urged, fumbling the bottle open as Sheppard pushed himself to his hands and knees.
Ronon slid two fingers, slick with oil, into Sheppard. Two fingers, in and out, and he hoped that was enough, but from the sound Sheppard made when Ronon's cock entered him it hadn't been.
Ronon's hands clamped down on Sheppard's hips; it was all he could do to keep from moving. "Ah..."
"S'okay," Sheppard panted. "I'm fine. Come on."
Ronon pushed in as slowly as he could, pausing when he was in as deep as he could go, watching the muscles in Sheppard's back bunch and release, then he dragged himself out just as slowly.
Sheppard's hips flexed, trying to push back, make Ronon move faster, but Ronon tightened his grip and slid back in just as slowly.
"Fuck! No, c'mon, Ronon," Sheppard said breathlessly. "Move, really, I'm-"
"Let me," Ronon said unsteadily. "Let me."
Sheppard made a frustrated noise deep in his throat, almost a whine, but he let his head droop between his arms and he stopped pushing against Ronon's hands.
Ronon bent forward and pressed his lips to Sheppard's shoulder. Sheppard arched up into the touch, and that was the end of Ronon's control. His hips snapped forward, again and again, driving him into Sheppard so hard that Sheppard slid across the blanket until he braced both arms against the wall to keep himself in place.
"God! I need-" Sheppard gasped, and Ronon reached around him with one arm and grabbed Sheppard's cock, stroking it roughly until Sheppard spilled over his hand with a strangled groan. Ronon kept fucking him hard right through his climax, wrenching another groan from Sheppard's throat, before he finally let himself come.
Once he could make himself open his eyes again, Ronon pulled out as carefully as he could, grimacing at Sheppard's faint hiss. Sheppard sprawled on the bed, breathing hard, and Ronon eased down next to him, content to lie silently, listening to Sheppard's breathing even out. When Sheppard's watch beeped not long afterward and Sheppard slid out of bed, Ronon was still content to lie there, relaxed and drowsy, listening to the water run in his bathroom.
Sheppard came out, and the lean lines of his body were enough to make Ronon think that maybe he'd like to do something other than sleep after all, but Sheppard began dressing.
"Gotta go," he said quietly. "We're testing the gas on another hive ship."
Ronon stood up and straightened his clothes, but Sheppard shook his head. "Nah, you can stay here. I'm just watching from the Daedalus." He was already moving toward the door.
"Sheppard."
Sheppard turned.
Ronon wanted-
He wasn't sure what he wanted. Something.
"It was good," he said finally.
Sheppard's grin flashed, quick and brilliant.
"It was good," he agreed before he swung out the door, his steps light and balanced like usual.
Ronon was still smiling when the door slid closed between them.
Pairing: Dex/Sheppard
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Sheppard is a little out of control, but Ronon can handle it.
Notes: Spoilers for Allies. Can be read alone, but follows Practical, Impractical, and Practicable.
Ronon watched the sky until the departing Wraith ship was less than a speck among the clouds. He knew one of the scientists would be watching it on the screens in the gateroom, making sure it went back to the hive ship like it was supposed to, but he watched anyway. He had to know the Wraith were gone, out of the city.
All but one of them, anyway.
He knew they'd tested Beckett's virus today. He hadn't been there, but he'd heard bits and pieces from a couple of the Marines, and he knew the queen had killed the transformed Wraith. That seemed to bother the Marines, but Ronon felt nothing but satisfaction; it meant the plan was working. The more Wraith who killed each other the better, and it didn't matter how they looked when they died.
The ship was completely lost from sight now, so Ronon turned and headed back inside, looking for Sheppard. He found him near the infirmary, at the center of a small knot of scientists. One of them looked like she'd been crying, and there was an unfamiliar tight, strained look around Sheppard's eyes and mouth.
Sheppard looked up at Ronon's approach, raising an eyebrow.
"They're gone," Ronon reported.
"Good," Sheppard said. His mouth moved in something that looked like a smile, but his eyes stayed hard and flat. "They're not really my favorite houseguests."
Several of the scientists laughed weakly, and the group started to break up. Sheppard excused himself and, jerking his head at Ronon, strode down the hallway. Ronon followed, and was faintly surprised when they ended up in Ronon's own quarters.
The door had barely closed behind them before Sheppard stripped off his jacket and slung it over a chair. He stared down at it, his expression unreadable.
"You want to go for a run?" Ronon suggested, because that's what Sheppard usually liked when he wanted to relax.
"No. I want you to fuck me," Sheppard snapped.
"You want me to fuck you?" Ronon echoed incredulously.
They didn't do that, he hadn't imagined Sheppard would ever want him to do that - and the grim set of Sheppard's jaw didn't really suggest that Sheppard wanted it now.
Sheppard's expression darkened instantly. "That's what I said," he snarled, grabbing his jacket. The look he gave Ronon was almost contemptuous. "But if you aren't up for it, I'll go somewhere else."
Ronon's temper flared. He didn't know whether Sheppard just meant that he was going somewhere else or if he meant that he was going to find someone else to fuck him, but he stepped in front of the door, blocking Sheppard's way. Sheppard tried to shove past him and Ronon shoved back; Sheppard moved as if he were ready to strike and Ronon reacted instinctively, gripping Sheppard's arms and throwing him when he tried to fight the hold. He managed to remember that this was Sheppard and he didn't want to hurt him, so Sheppard landed hard on the bed instead of against the wall. Ronon followed him, pinning him face down on the mattress.
He'd seen flashes of carefully contained violence in Sheppard before, and if he was honest with himself, that simmering intensity Sheppard usually kept hidden was one of the things about Sheppard that fascinated him. But he'd never seen this sort of unfocused belligerence in Sheppard before, and he didn't like it.
Sheppard bucked and twisted and tried to get his knee up so he could flip them both over, and Ronon put all of his weight and most of his strength into holding him down. Sheppard strained against him, but Ronon had both his arms now, one trapped under them and the other wrenched up behind Sheppard's back, and Sheppard didn't have any leverage.
Ronon leaned in and spoke directly into Sheppard's ear. "You want to fuck? We'll fuck. And if you want to fight, we'll fight."
Sheppard made another convulsive effort to throw him off, and Ronon tightened his grip on Sheppard's arm, forcing it higher behind his back until Sheppard grunted and went still.
"But I think you should choose one or the other," Ronon said over the harsh sound of Sheppard's breath, "'cause you've never seemed like the kind of man who wants to be held down and forced to take it while he's fucked."
Ronon could feel Sheppard trembling with fury under him.
"Let. Go." Sheppard bit off each word; his voice was icy.
"Yeah," Ronon said, not letting go. "I will. As soon as I'm sure you won't try to kill me when I do."
The tension ebbed out of Sheppard's body in a huff of something that wasn't quite laughter, and his forehead dropped onto the bed. "I'm not gonna try to kill you," he said wearily, his voice slightly muffled in the folds of Ronon's blanket.
Ronon eased up carefully on his hold, letting go entirely when Sheppard didn't immediately lash out at him.
Sheppard rolled away and sat up on the edge of the bed, resting his elbows on his knees. After a moment he dropped his head into his hands.
Ronon sat up too, putting his back against the wall at the head of the bed. "You plan to tell me why you're trying to pick a fight like some first-year recruit?" he asked eventually.
"Sorry," Sheppard muttered. He dropped his hands between his knees but didn't raise his head. "That was... I was out of line."
"I can handle it," Ronon said evenly.
"Yeah. I know you can," Sheppard said, with a quick look at Ronon. A tiny, rueful smile lightened the grim lines around his eyes.
Something hard and tight in Ronon's chest loosened at Sheppard's smile. He still didn't know why Sheppard was wound up so tightly he'd been spoiling for a fight, but he knew why Sheppard had tried to have it with him. Sheppard trusted him to have his back in this, just like he trusted him at his back in the field. The feeling was so overwhelming that he barely heard Sheppard saying, "Doesn't mean you should have to."
"I can handle it," Ronon repeated firmly.
Sheppard nodded slightly, then looked down at his hands again. "We tested the gas," he said quietly.
"Yeah. I heard it worked."
Sheppard's laugh was hollow. "Yeah, it worked. The queen was very happy with how well it worked," he said bitterly.
Sheppard's Marines hadn't liked it that the queen had killed the transformed Wraith. Evidently Sheppard didn't like it either.
"It was still a Wraith," Ronon pointed out.
"Maybe, but it sure as hell looked human," Sheppard snapped.
Ronon opened his mouth to say that a Wraith was a Wraith, it didn't matter what it looked like, but he stopped himself. He'd had this argument with Sheppard before, more than once. He knew it did matter to Sheppard what it looked like. It mattered to all the people from Earth. It even mattered some to Teyla. Sheppard at least understood the Wraith were dangerous no matter how they looked; that was more than Ronon could say for Beckett and some of the others, so he let it go. He didn't want to argue with Sheppard, and he didn't think an argument was what Sheppard needed right now anyway.
But maybe he should make sure. "You still want to fight?" he asked.
"No," Sheppard said, dropping his head back into his hands and pressing his palms over his eyes. "I don't want to fight."
"Okay."
Ronon rose to his knees and positioned himself behind Sheppard. Sheppard tensed slightly when Ronon's hands settled on his shoulders, but he made an appreciative humming noise when Ronon's thumbs dug into the knotted muscles there, and he didn't move away or say he didn't want to fuck after all.
Ronon worked on Sheppard's shoulders for a few minutes, then slid his hands up under Sheppard's shirt and stroked along the planes of his back.
"Here," Sheppard muttered, pulling the shirt up over his head and tossing it out of the way.
"That works," Ronon rumbled. "Stand up."
Sheppard gave him a long, unreadable look, but he stood, and he let Ronon pull off his boots and his gun and unfasten his pants and slide them down his hips.
They didn't usually undress each other. For the quick hand jobs and blow jobs they normally traded, they often didn't undress at all, and Ronon found that handling Sheppard this way felt strangely more intimate than anything they'd done so far, even more than having Sheppard's cock in his hand or his mouth had.
Sheppard lay face down on Ronon's bed, and Ronon knelt over him and went back to rubbing. He wasn't skilled in massage, but he seemed to be doing well enough from the way Sheppard was relaxing under his hands. Sheppard made more of those appreciative noises, and after several minutes, his eyes drifted closed.
Ronon moved lower, and Sheppard shifted, spreading his legs so Ronon could kneel between them. Ronon worked on Sheppard's lower back before moving his hands even lower, across Sheppard's buttocks and down his thighs. Sheppard twitched but didn't open his eyes. His cock was hidden under his body, so Ronon couldn't tell if he was hard. Ronon certainly was.
Ronon hesitated, looking down at Sheppard's relaxed body. The angle was bad, but...
He bent his head and licked all the way from the base of Sheppard's spine to his hole. Sheppard's body jolted, and Ronon used his hands to keep Sheppard open. He flicked his tongue back and forth across the hole, and Sheppard gasped a disjointed protest.
"Fuck! What- You don't have to-"
"I want to," Ronon said. And he did. He wanted to see Sheppard flushed and desperate and out of control because Ronon made him that way, not because he was angry or trapped or confused.
He licked experimentally, little circles. Sheppard's hands fisted in the blanket, so he licked harder. He vaguely remembered thinking this sounded disgusting, years ago when he'd heard about it in the barracks, but it was okay, and the way Sheppard was squirming made Ronon think it really did feel as good as that one recruit had said it did.
Ronon eased the tip of one finger into Sheppard, licking next to it, pressing hard with his tongue, and Sheppard groaned and pushed back against him, lifting his hips. Sheppard worked one hand underneath his own body; Ronon realized he was stroking himself in time to the thrusts of Ronon's finger and tongue, and it was too much.
He straightened, opening his pants and feeling for the little bottle of oil he used on his knives. "Come up," he urged, fumbling the bottle open as Sheppard pushed himself to his hands and knees.
Ronon slid two fingers, slick with oil, into Sheppard. Two fingers, in and out, and he hoped that was enough, but from the sound Sheppard made when Ronon's cock entered him it hadn't been.
Ronon's hands clamped down on Sheppard's hips; it was all he could do to keep from moving. "Ah..."
"S'okay," Sheppard panted. "I'm fine. Come on."
Ronon pushed in as slowly as he could, pausing when he was in as deep as he could go, watching the muscles in Sheppard's back bunch and release, then he dragged himself out just as slowly.
Sheppard's hips flexed, trying to push back, make Ronon move faster, but Ronon tightened his grip and slid back in just as slowly.
"Fuck! No, c'mon, Ronon," Sheppard said breathlessly. "Move, really, I'm-"
"Let me," Ronon said unsteadily. "Let me."
Sheppard made a frustrated noise deep in his throat, almost a whine, but he let his head droop between his arms and he stopped pushing against Ronon's hands.
Ronon bent forward and pressed his lips to Sheppard's shoulder. Sheppard arched up into the touch, and that was the end of Ronon's control. His hips snapped forward, again and again, driving him into Sheppard so hard that Sheppard slid across the blanket until he braced both arms against the wall to keep himself in place.
"God! I need-" Sheppard gasped, and Ronon reached around him with one arm and grabbed Sheppard's cock, stroking it roughly until Sheppard spilled over his hand with a strangled groan. Ronon kept fucking him hard right through his climax, wrenching another groan from Sheppard's throat, before he finally let himself come.
Once he could make himself open his eyes again, Ronon pulled out as carefully as he could, grimacing at Sheppard's faint hiss. Sheppard sprawled on the bed, breathing hard, and Ronon eased down next to him, content to lie silently, listening to Sheppard's breathing even out. When Sheppard's watch beeped not long afterward and Sheppard slid out of bed, Ronon was still content to lie there, relaxed and drowsy, listening to the water run in his bathroom.
Sheppard came out, and the lean lines of his body were enough to make Ronon think that maybe he'd like to do something other than sleep after all, but Sheppard began dressing.
"Gotta go," he said quietly. "We're testing the gas on another hive ship."
Ronon stood up and straightened his clothes, but Sheppard shook his head. "Nah, you can stay here. I'm just watching from the Daedalus." He was already moving toward the door.
"Sheppard."
Sheppard turned.
Ronon wanted-
He wasn't sure what he wanted. Something.
"It was good," he said finally.
Sheppard's grin flashed, quick and brilliant.
"It was good," he agreed before he swung out the door, his steps light and balanced like usual.
Ronon was still smiling when the door slid closed between them.
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
Again, great characterization. Whether or not their relationship shifts and changes, I'm enjoying each step.
And, of course, I want to know what happens next. I hope you write it!
no subject
I'm very pleased you liked the characterizations, and that the story worked for you. Understanding without overt romance was just the balance I was trying for.
no subject
no subject
no subject
Yes, that's so Ronon. I like the conflict between his feelings and the other reactions to the plan.
He'd seen flashes of carefully contained violence in Sheppard before, and if he was honest with himself, that simmering intensity Sheppard usually kept hidden was one of the things about Sheppard that fascinated him. But he'd never seen this sort of unfocused belligerence in Sheppard before, and he didn't like it.
Love this. Sheppard balanced on the edge of violence and trusting Ronon to be there and handle it is wonderful.
Two fingers, in and out, and he hoped that was enough, but from the sound Sheppard made when Ronon's cock entered him it hadn't been.
Guh! These guys together are so totally hot and you let them be strong and powerful and understanding each other without getting mushy. *swoon*
"It was good,"
Yes, yes it was. ;)
no subject
no subject
Definitely becoming a fave pairing of mine...
Thanks for that, it was really good. :o)
no subject
Obviously I'm a bit biased, but I really do think John and Ronon go well together. Glad I'm not the only one!
no subject
Ok, putting this into
no subject
no subject
And gahh, the sex was hot.
Thankyou.
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
Thanks for letting me know you enjoyed it!
no subject
no subject
no subject
Many hugs.
*gg*
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
As I was watching Rising, there was this really irritated voice in the back of my mind saying things like:
"Honestly, how do they expect people to believe that there is any common language - let alone English - across glaxies?!"
I think Severus is a bit nervous about any fandom competition. This is your fault for writing such good fic in the first place, you know that right? It might even help me get some distance from the HP fandom so that I can finally start finishing my fics though.
no subject
My mental Severus is probably pretty darn annoyed about fandom competition at this point, considering that I temporarily abandoned him to write someone else. But I think it's been good for me to try out different characters! As for my fault - can I pass the blame on to
There's a lot of excellent SGA fic around. Let me know if you want some recs (but don't tell Severus...)
no subject
The good news is that this has Severus snarking about every little thing, and its good to have him so present when I'm actually going to start writing (as opposed to catching up on WIPs)
I think once I get more into the first season (which I hope gets here today!!!), I'll be bugging you about recs instantly :D