seperis | rec - transference by semivowel

Ronon had an energy pistol and was as big as a small horse, so he was essentially useless as a role model in scenarios such as this. Sheppard would have threatened to destroy their kingdom, their families, their domesticated pets and their entire stone age subculture, sow the ground with salt and make sure no life ever surfaced on their planet again. But Rodney lacked the edge of insane conviction to pull that one off.

That is possibly my favorite partial paragraph in the history of fandom. Because John totally would. With insane conviction.

Transference by

semivowel.

eleveninches recced it to me and was like YOU WILL ENJOY HERE IS THE LINK which is second only to

svmadelyn's charming habit of pasting bits of fic into my AIM window to make me read something.

Though granted,

eleveninches sends me good fic and

svmadelyn sends me stuff that's like "and then he slid his thickly ridged emerald shaft into the blond man's slick brown flower while his wings beat a steady rhythm of sexual innocence into the thickly scented air above him. The dark-haired man thought lustfully, he smells like porridge."

(If that is an actual fic and I just randomly plagiarazed, please just shoot me. It would be kinder. I do not want to know this exists.)

ANYWAY.

Fic (the recced one!) is awesome and funny and *Fun* and I just don't think there are enough big gay planets. Not nearly enough. God, SGA. You shock me.

If that is an actual fic and I just randomly plagiarazed, please just shoot me.

If that is an actual fic, then destroy the internet, its families, its domesticated pets and its entire badfic subculture, sow the ground with salt and make sure no life ever surfaced on the internet again.

So say we all.

Though I have often been tempted to post my favorite badfic lines. Hmm.

You are made of EVIL.

Only *mostly* evil.

Your hypothetical fic has scarred me. NO SERIOUSLY. Oh god, I fear my dreams tonight.

rageprufrock! SERIOUSLY HER AND

svmadelyn were talking and that came up and I WANTED TO DIE.

AND DIE AGAIN.

Hmm.

I wonder if I can do that again.

He tenderly slicked the puckered dark rose....

Hmm, no.

He tenderly and gently slicked the puckered dark-hued rose of his lover's manpussy...

Not romantic enough.

He sweetly slicked the tender, puckered, dark-hued rose of his lover's love chasm with his delicate, slender digits, marveling at the rich, chocolately scent of his blond lover's passion.

You know. I kind of think less of myself after writing that.

AHHNGAAAHHHHHHNNNNNG... *goes defensively blind and curls into a ball*

I think my work here is done.

*dusts hands*

*huge grin* So gakking.

To truly replicate the badfic experience that should be "marveling at the rich, choclately scent of his blonde lover's passion", don't you think?

Also: !!!

I fear you sometimes.

It's

svmadelyn's fault. She pastes me these--things.

Things.

No one comes out of there sane!

And what will become of the resulting triplets who will, once planted in the fecund fjords of his beloved's puckered nether regions, will burst forth in full flower, sort of like soy beans, only since these are triplets they would be less green and unlikely to make good tofu. Yes, what of them?

Your ideas intrigue me and I wish to subscribe to your newsletter.

I think if we go to the nature-farm-as-sex-place, however, it should go something like this:

He sweetly slicked the tender, puckered, dark-hued rose of his lover's love chasm with his delicate, slender digits, marveling at the rich, chocolately scent of his blond lover's passion.

He shoveled his moist emerald cock into his lover's dark chasm and plowed relentlessly into his rich, loamy moistness, emptying his seed into the humid, fertile heat of his fecund lover.

*...officially lacks words*

I was out weeding my vegetable patch earlier...which is in no way an innuendo, more's the pity.
I don't think I'll ever be able to dig my fingers into the rich soil again without thinking of your filthy manflower! No homegrown potatoes for me this year. *weeps*

IT IS A CLEAN MANFLOWER! I forgot to mention the sexy pre-sex enema!

(I'm kind of terrifying myself now.)

Well, that changes everything!

...

You know, I used to find it amusing when my female friends used to talk about their "lady gardens". I don't think so anymore. *woe*

Hmmm....I see your point, wise one:

Rodney gasped as John rippled below him like a field of wheat might have done in the long-ago days when Mesopotamia was still Sumeria and had enough drainage and irrigation to produce wheat which would then grow tall and do the aforesaid rippling in the breeze, which of course was not the reason John was rippling (a breeze that is), but he felt quite pleased with his metaphor anyway. Rodney looking down at his emerald cock reflected that he was really going to have to give up the not-quite-spinach quiches the kitchen staff turned out with alarming regularity and...

"More attention to my dark chasm, McKay and less metaphorical musing," John gasped, even now still rippling, "we have triplets to sow in the unbounded fecundity of the loamy moistness of my incredibly attractive self."

"I'll get the Miracle Grow," Rodney muttered reassuringly into John's not-really-shell-like ear, well, not shell-like at all, unless one could find shells that were really pointed, though he supposed that razor clams might be shaped something like that.

That's--*wide eyes*--that is a thing of beauty.

I would read this story. I would rec this story. And possibly kill mysefl by drinking bleach right afterward in horror.

...except the triplets. I'm worried about the triplets.

unbounded fecundity of the loamy moistness

I just discovered my keyboard cord is not long enough to strangle myself. Pity.

...doesn't shaft in flower action sort of preclude sexual innocence? Maybe?

LOGIC DOES NOT MATTER! IT IS THE VIRGIN BROWN FLOWER!

Of course, yes. What on Earth was I thinking?

Inre: thinking less of yourself for writing that thing in the other reply: You should never feel shame for anything you write. When two people love each other, it's all beautiful and natural and omg must go throw up now....

I need to go reread the bit of that story going around where Sheppard finally figures out he's the king of Atlantis as a palate cleanser. It tickles me endlessly that no one told him, and let him go unfreaked-out for as long as possible.

Hey, so since I've read some of this stuff, I need to cleanse my mind something awful. Any way that you could link me to the Sheppard-as-King story?

It's

cesperanza's "Written By The Victors," and will cleanse the palates of an entire herd of mastodons, as it is 336k long:

http://www.trickster.org/speranza/cesper/Victors.html

Fascinating tidbit! It makes me want to read the whole fic, just to discover which is the bigger than a horse: Ronon or Ronon's gun. (Hi, new to your lj. Was drawn here by the unholy amount of Smallville slash)

Hee! Thanks!

You should totally start the SGA equivalent of

mctabby's Summary Executions. Only with badfic lines.

I am kind of darkly amused at the fact that it is a brown flower. Oh green-cocked one, your blond lover may be sexually innocent but he isn't very good about his hygiene and, really, you should be worrying about things like, I don't know, hepatitis.

*dies laughing* IT IS PASSION! PASSION DOES NOT KNOW THIS HYGEINE THING!

Passion is also headed for some lovely STDs and other diseases. But, you know, there's always the slow, tragic death syphilis brings so that might work for the fic. (Nothing more romantically tragic than having your brain eaten into swiss cheese after all!)

Hey, that totally brings the tragically beautiful healing-cock h/c to the yard!

...somehow, I'm sure.

Oh, God. Cum shots as cure for syphilis is where that brought me, just so you know.

*cries, laughing* But lo, the skidmarks spelt his lover's name, calling him to venture forth and plunder the dark, musky cave of their origin.

Ahahahaha, oh god, I think I scared the cats laughing I *know* I scared my roommates. For, lo, the skidmarks spelt his lover's.

*hysterics*

I am at work and there are people wondering why I keep trying to strangle myself. God.

Ah, John's insane conviction. I less-than-three it so much.

He pleases me when he goes to the salt-the-earth place. I am still dreaming of the day that John orders something razed. I may just collapse and die.

You are the reason why I have serial-killer!John kink now, just so you know. Not only do I blame you, but it's actually your fault (which is pretty novel for me!) But since really, the idea of John razing cities and civilizations, salting the earth, etc., really hits the OMGSOHOT button for me, I don't blame you in a mean way.

(If that is an actual fic and I just randomly plagiarazed, please just shoot me. It would be kinder. I do not want to know this exists.)

You know, until I read that, I was really, truly, utterly horrified. More because of the porridge reference than anything else, though.

Ther'es something horrificically non-sexy about porridge.

Loved Transference and the paragraph you quoted was also my favorite paragraph in fandom. And it sounded so much like something you would write, or at least she was thinking of your John when she wrote it....

I also loved this sentence: Ronon’s skills were currently more usefully employed by looking and acting like a guy who was pissed as hell and exceedingly dangerous to know, and who could take out six of your best warriors before they got within three feet of him – which he was, so it wasn’t exactly taxing his acting ability. It's just...very Ronon, no?

She does some *amazing* character descriptions like that. I'm seriously in love with those.

And yes, God, that *is* Ronon.

How sad is it that it was this part that made me laugh the hardest:

The dark-haired man thought lustfully, he smells like porridge.

Maybe it's because bad smut just doesn't even register on my radar anymore. How sad.

*bites lip hard*

I had somehow managed to completely forget that fic, which I loved to pieces at the time. All of my favorite teamfic and McShep cliches wrapped into one satisfying and funny package, like good chocolate. And it was just as good as a reread today. Mmmmm.

(I was gratified to discover that I had actually commented at the time, which I often forget to do.)

The dark-haired man thought lustfully, he smells like porridge.

God, it's even worse when read over breakfast.

You let your computer have sex with the computer of the woman who sends such things?!?

The dark-haired man thought lustfully, he smells like porridge.

I don't have any more words. I just don't. fdaj;kfl;wdkaprueitopafjidz

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