thefourthvine | Slashy Nominations 61: Smut's Winged Chariot Hurrying Near

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Slashy Nominations 61: Smut's Winged Chariot Hurrying Near

And by "chariot," I mean "car." Because, let's face it, we live a lot of our lives in cars. We kiss in cars, and fight in cars, and snack in cars, and, especially in our teen years, have sex in cars. And as in life, so in fan fiction. (Stop laughing immediately. I didn't say fan fiction was realistic, did I? No, I did not. I merely said it reflects our obsessions. If you believe you can successfully argue with that, go right ahead; I stand ready to defend my statement.)

Best FF That Puts a Hair Care Product to a Use That Paul Mitchell Would Never Approve. I Think.: Cool in the Backseat, by witchbaby, aka

brooklinegirl. Due South, Benton Fraser/Ray Kowalski. Sex. In a car. Plus some other stuff. Really, when a story has a title like that, I don't think I should have to write a summary for you to know what's going to happen. But I do believe you'll be deeply impressed with what these guys manage to do in a car; I'm not sure how many couples aside from Fraser-the-perfect and Kowalski-the-graceful could have successful anal sex in the backseat of a Pontiac GTO. Trust me when I tell you that any kind of automotive engagement, never mind what happens here, requires skill and talent in some amount far greater than I possess. (There's a guy who is probably still limping and bruised who can testify that combining a backseat, a hardcover Biology textbook, and me is an act both unwise and very, very painful.) So be in awe, folks, of what Ben 'n' Ray manage to pull off in this story. Um, so to speak.

Best FF in Which Sex Is Prevented by the Untimely Intervention of a Car Alarm: Diversionary Tactics, by

shrift. Sports Night, Casey McCall/Danny Rydell. Why yes, I do intend to continue recommending Sports Night fic. The SN Cult has me in its clutches, and I will not rest until every single person on this earth is reading SN FF. And, see, this is what is both beautiful and terrible about the Cult: I'm doing this because I know you'll be happier when you've succumbed. (Unless you get hold of some of the depressing SN stories, because those are like a kick to the gut, or possibly even like a blow to the genitals from the pointy part of a hardcover Biology textbook. But I'm no sadist; I'll warn you when I'm linking to one of those.) This is a happy story, and it is absolutely chock full of cars. (Public Service Announcement: we residents of Los Angeles would prefer it if visitors to this fine city did not use their cellular phones on the 405. Trust me, it's scary enough watching you folks merge without the knowledge that three-quarters of your brain is back home, and half of what's left is trying to figure out if that's Ryan Seacrest on the radio. (It isn't. It's his clone. We think, although we are afraid to get close enough to check.) So, please, unless you're Danny Rydell, stay off the phone when you're in traffic. Thank you. Love, the Los Angeles troglodytes.)

Best FF in Which the Two Characters Argue about Whether They're Gay or Not, Pause to Have Gay Sex, and Then Return to the Argument, Apparently Somehow Unaware That Said Argument Has Been Definitely Overtaken by Events: Orange Crush, by Annie Sewell-Jennings, aka

anniesj. Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Spike/Xander. This story is actually the second in a series that I think of as the Random Song Title Series. I don't know if it actually has a name. You might want to read the first story, A Lesson in Principles, before you read this one, although I do think that "Orange" could, despite references to what happened in "Lesson," stand alone. This story is based on an old tradition - sex in a crappy American car. I don't know why that's such a classic activity, but it is. Maybe people worry less about staining the upholstery when the car already sucks. (Get ready for a really impressive, top-notch, professional-quality transition here.) Sucks, in fact, like Spike does, only not in this story, which doesn't suck at all. (Yes, that was some excellent writing, there. Nothing quite like the knowledge of a job well done, is there?)

Best FF That Features the Phrase "Mi Dildo Es Su Dildo," Which, Frankly, I Don't Think Should Ever Be Uttered by Anyone: Toy Story, by Alanna, aka

bayleaf. The Sentinel, Jim/Blair. Yes, it's an all-TV-show recommendations set! Apparently television characters are big on the car sex concept. Or maybe I'm just a helpless TV show fangirl. Whichever. This story wins two prizes from me. First, the Chutzpah Award, for portraying sex in a car parked in a police station's garage. How many people have done that? (Note that I said people, not fan fiction characters; I could assemble almost a complete nominations set built around this concept alone.) And, second, the Mysterious Lack of Chutzpah Award, because I think we can all enjoy the spectacle of Blair getting embarrassed in a sex toy shop. Evidently Blair never learned the girl decoy trick, where you give a girl the money and a detailed description of the dildo or vibrator you want and halfway through you realize this is actually worse than telling a stranger and you should've just shopped on the internet, because the girl is laughing so hard complete strangers keep wanting to give her seizure medication. At least she's laughing that hard when she's me. I'm sure those in the audience are much kinder to their male friends on these occasions.

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Hi, it's me again. I don't mean to be a know-it-all, it's just you keep mentioning my friends ... *g*

Alanna is

bayleaf but she doesn't have a fic site. Which is a damn shame, but there you are.

Hey, I'm a big fan of know-it-alls, especially when it comes to LJ names. And, yes, it is a damn shame Alanna doesn't have a site. As her friend, you should admonish her. It is a sacred duty of friendship!

Oh, oh my. Toy Story is so very, very hot. I now realise that I can never actually watch the series becasue it will disappoint too much. ~~You know, 'toys' could be an award category that might be good. Uh, in a very distant, academic kind of interest way, of course.~~

And I completely feel that it's wrong to mention AF in such surroundings, but how are you getting on with Marlows and the Traitor?

Toys would indeed be a fascinating nominations set. I can think of a couple of candidates for that set right now.

*evil pondering of sexy stories*

And oh, god, I completely forgot to tell you about the Forrest book. Look for an email coming your way soon.

I can't bear to hear anyone talking about toy stories without pointing them at

cortese's Good Vibrations (http://www.io.com/~cortese/stories/show.cgi?fandom=hornblower&filename=vibes.txt). Hornblower, Archie/Horatio, NC17. Started as a drabble for the

hh100 "anachronisms" challenge, and is really quite ridiculous, but makes me drool every time I read it.

That icon is hysterical. Just so you know. (Who is that, by the way?)

And I have opened "Good Vibrations," but it may take me a while to work up to reading it, because...a Horatio Hornblower story called "Good Vibrations" is just...odd. But if it makes you drool, I must read it, so I will get there in time.

It's Sam West (who plays Major Edrington in Hornblower) playing the Rev. Nevil Maskelyne in the TV mini-series "Longitude".

More screencaps here: http://www.livejournal.com/community/article_xxix/29652.html
(along with Daragh O'Malley in a wig, and Stephen Fry in a wig, and Tim McInnerny inexplicably not in a wig at all)

Because we love the wigs. Oh yes we do.

Anyway, the droolishness of Good Vibrations is in the character portrayal. The premise is WRONG WRONG WRONG but the way Archie and Horatio deal with it is so very very right. Archie's such an adorable little slut. *pets him*

"Longitude" like Dava Sobel's book? Did they make a TV miniseries out of that?

And I'll be the first to admit that I don't know much about iconage (all my icons are due to the amazing, wondrous, nigh-perfect

makesmewannadie), but "adorable little slut" sounds like a lovely icon caption to me. I can actually think of, um, several people who deserve such a caption.

Yup, Dava Sobel's Longitude, exactly. More clocks than you can poke a stick at. And more wigs than there are clocks. And a completely inexplicable and pointless 20th century subplot which they keep switching too. *shakes head in bewilderment*

But! Sam West! Inna wig! The fact that I find him irresistable even when he's dressed as the mutant love-child of a Q-Tip and a poodle, AND IS ALSO THE BAD GUY, gives you some idea of a) how utterly irresistable he is, and b) how utterly pathetic I am.

To be honest, Dava Sobel's book is better than the film. But if you have even the slightest inkling of the Sam love, or any enthusiasm for lovable moppet-like midshipmen, it will tip the balance. Just fast-forward through the 20th century subplot bits.

(points at icon for further evidence of Sam West sexitude, this time in uniform)

Huh. Well, I'll probably stick to just the book, because I am not very familiar with Sam West. Although I will admit, just juging by the icon, that he can summon up more dignity than most people could in a hat like that.

Hang on a minute. You like M&C, and make no comments about the hats there, and yet you rag on Hornblower for their dork hats?

Look, if you love one dork hat fandom, you must love them all! M&C, Hornblower, Sharpe... at minimum. Bonus points for Austen, Flashman, Heyer, and so forth.

But really... Hornblower makes the Big Gay Boat Movie look positively closeted. OK, so Jack Aubrey swims naked in book canon... but Hornblower gets naked IN MOVIE CANON. On the quarterdeck. With the entire crew present, hosing him down. And the other lieutenants LICK THEIR LIPS. I am not making this up.

The dork hats are just... well, they just are. Run with it, trust me, it's all good. The worse the uniforms, the more fun it is to take them off. Layer by layer. And eventually you get used to them, and start discussing the relative sexiness of hats worn athwart vs fore-and-aft, and laughing when someone shows up wearing one diagonally (as sometimes happens in Sharpe).

The fore-and-aft hats, of course, were introduced into the naval uniform around 1800 as an anti-fraternization device. Try to suck cock in one of those things and the tip of it will poke them in the naval before you get within a foot of the action.

Of course I meant navel. But it works the other way too, I suppose.

OMG toy set! yes! If you run out of noms, I have some. Er. *coff* right.

CHECK YR FANDOM EMAIL HONEY! WE HAVE A WEB SITE!

Naturally I want your toy story links. I have an overwhelming link need. I'm sure you already know this.

(YAY!)

Oh, GOD. I'm laughing so hard I have tears.

And they're all my fandoms! YAY! That's it; we were separated at birth, or something.

Which story was it that got you laughing?

And, yeah, no surprise they're all your fandoms, since you converted me to one and a half of them. The Procurator-General at work!

(Separated at birth? Really? Because if we are, and we're also LJ spouses, then...ew. I think they prosecute for that. But, hey, bright side: if we're separated at birth type persons, then you must also be a long-lost mystery relative of

makesmewannadie. Which suggests to me that her family really needs to put radio tracking devices on all its members. I mean, anyone can lose track of one family member. But two? Clear case of negligence.)

Yeah, okay, we're not from any place that practices interfamily marriage. Because that's just gross. But still. You see my point...

Hey, I take full responsibility for SportsNight, but are you laying BUFFY at my feet too? Because I didn't *convert* you so much as show you what the liturgy *meant* (in keeping with the religious theme). So I'm not sure I can take the blame, there. Also? YOU, my friend, are SOLELY, WHOLLY, and COMPLETELY responsible for my due South love. So there. :-P

And it wasn't even the stories that had me cracking up! It was the blurbs that you wrote!

I said one and a half, and I meant one and a half. Because while, yes, I did technically volunteer for Buffy on my own, you were the person who made me understand, like, the last half of it. To continue with the religious metaphor, I was only conversant with the Old Testament, and you got me up to speed on the new one. Hence, half attributable to you.

And if I got you into due South, that is a good thing, for it is a marvelous fandom, filled with friendly people and OTPs and sarcastic half-wolves. Really, can it get any better? Also, if I only got you into dS, then clearly I owe you half a fandom. So you should give me a list of all your fandoms, so that I know which one of mine to start pushing.

(I'm glad you liked the blurbs for the stories. And thank you for telling me. Validation is just such a wonderful thing, is it not? I'm all proud: I made

fanofall laugh!)

Okay, wow. List of fandoms.

Do you want that here or via e-mail?

And as for "half a fandom", I have clearly lost my mind, because I completely forgot about M&C, which is what brought us to this state in the first place.

I wish there were more Aubrey/Maturin fic. *sigh*

Here or email is good, either way. But I must have it immediately, so I know how I can corrupt - or rather, enlighten - you further.

There should indeed be more M&C fic (did I get you into M&C?). I have long considered kidnapping my favorite FF writers until they write stories in fandoms I consider to be woefully under-represented in fan fiction. Two of these fandoms are M&C and Sports Night. Now that you know that, do you want to help me? I will provide the elaborate plan and maniacal laughter if you provide the secret dungeon hideaway featuring a hideously complex security system, an extremely thorough library, an assortment of inspirational photos, and a computer driven by water-generated power.

Wow, I am SO on board with teh ev0l plan. And it will give me something to do. I've always wanted to be a minion!

Okay, fandoms:
Very first fandom EVAH!: Angel (Cordelia/Angel. Shuddup.)
Followed shortly by: Buffy (initially Buffy/Spike, but then I was shown the light, i.e., slash, and now it's Xander/Spike, who are totally my OTP there)
And then I became, as

shrift calls it, a crackhead. And my very quiet, docile little fic life jumped into crazy-gear, and now I read:
Smallville (have you SEEN Michael Rosenbaum?)
Master&Commander (and, yes, that's TOTALLY your fault)
The Sentinel (They're just. So. OMGtheirloveissopure!!!!11.111111.!!eleven1!!)
due South (Fraser/RayK, because I can't see Vecchio sleeping with a guy)
Lord of the Rings (I know how you feel about hobbits, so we'll just leave this alone)
SportsNight (Danny! Casey! SO IN LOVE!)
And the occasional foray into the fandoms of other shows I watch: Alias, Justice League, Star Trek (shuddup again), Highlander, West Wing, etc.

I'm going to burn in hell for all eternity, aren't I? *facepalm*

Cordelia/Angel. Shuddup.

I will remain quiet about the Cordelia/Angel. We all have our strange little weaknesses.

...but then I was shown the light, i.e., slash...

Am I the only person who started reading het long after she started reading slash? Slash was, like, the natural version of FF for me; het has always seemed, well, strangely perverted.

...have you SEEN Michael Rosenbaum?

No, actually, I have not seen Michael Rosenbaum. Who is Michael Rosenbaum? What is he? That all the fans commend him? (And don't think you're going to get me into Smallville, because I already have more TV fandoms than TV shows I've watched.)

I'm going to burn in hell for all eternity, aren't I?

Certainly not. (At least not until I add, um, a couple more fandoms to that list.)

I've always wanted to be a minion!

You are not a minion. You are the Procurator-General, and don't you forget it.

But, yeah, let's get right to work on that evil plan thing, only not here where our victims can see us. To the email! Charge!

Kidnap me! Kidnap me!

You will also need to provide:

* DVD player
* grog ration (2 pints per day, more for good behaviour)
* shower (I find that plot bunnies crawl up the drain and nibble my toes while I get clean)
* 36 hours in every day

When you say "extremely thorough library", I presume you wouldn't mind if I brought my own?

DVD Player: check. But you will have to share with my Best Beloved, unless

fanofall is willing to contribute hers to the cause.

Grog: check. But I'll have you know I dock for failure to behave licentiously.

Shower: check. However, our shower may not be on the bunny route, as I have spent significant time in there and never been bitten even once. By bunnies, that is.

36 hours in every day: um, sorry, no. But the Evil Plan will require you to quit your job. That's bound to free up some time.

And of course you may bring your own library to add to the collection. The more the merrier, I say, although frankly we are running out of wall space for bookshelves in this house. So if you know something about carpentry, that would be a very good thing; we could have built in floor-to-ceiling shelves everywhere, and that might help a bit.

Wait.

fanofall is providing the dungeon. I'm sure she'll come up with something spacious. Bring all the materials you want!

Now get cracking on the M&C and SN. I'll have you know that we have whips, and we are not afraid to use them.

Now get cracking on the M&C and SN.

Uhhh. I'm not sure my library is really set up for SN. *stares at shelves of books on Nelson's Navy, Georgian London, 18th and 19th century culture, etc* You really *don't* want me to attempt that, do you?

(

fanofall, there's work to do. Get cracking, Procurator-General.)

q_skud_, let me share with you an inspirational story that will help you accept your chosen path.

I am Not Good at television. As in, really bad at it. Which is doubly pathetic when you consider that it is essentially our major national hobby; I live in fear that they will revoke my citizenship because I've never seen...well, anything, really.

As a result of this sad infirmity, I do not watch television, which leaves me out of the loop as far as popular culture goes. Hence, a week and a half ago, I had not even heard of Sports Night. And yet here I am, hip-deep in the fandom, already whining about insufficient fan fiction. Trust me: join the SN cult. Join, and you will live in joy; resist, and you will sink in sorrow.

Once you've assimilated, we'll talk about the FF writing. Say, in a week or so.

In the meantime, I will happily accept M&C fic, especially if it features wombats. Or sloths.

Yes! *nods* TV is hard. And boring.

"To lose track of one [family member] may be regarded as misfortune; to lose two looks like carelessness."

*nods earnestly*

EXACTLY. ;-D

See, now I have to love you forever, because you quoted The Importance of Being Earnest. It isn't like I didn't already love you for a) writing excellent Master & Commander FF and b) writing one particular story featuring a wombat (yay wombats!), but now the love is, like, all-encompassing.

So I hope you do not mind becoming the third entry on the list of LJ People I Love, and Will Have to Marry to Avoid Scandal, Provided They Are Not My Long-Lost Relatives, Which They Probably Are.

Hey, I wrote *two* M&C fics involving wombats! If you count "Port Jackson", which was sorta a fanart ficlet thing but you know that since that's how I first found you because you recced it and blah blah blah I'll shut up now. actually technically three fics with wombats because the wombat first shows up in my first ever fanfic, Antipodes, but it doesn't really do much. OKreallyshuttingupnow.

Wombats are always funny. So are sheep. I am working on a Banjo/Clancy (erm, historical Australian poet and Australian folk legend) quasi-RPS which contains sheep references galore. Well, you can't really avoid it when canon dictates that Banjo knew Clancy when he was a shearer. I might have to see if I can work in a wombat just for you, though. How do you feel about kangaroos? Goannas? Cockatoos? Quokkas? Witchetty grubs?

True. I failed to give you credit for one and a half wombats. But that's because of personal wombat trauma: I so badly wanted the wombat icon from "Port Jackson," and by the time I got there, someone else had claimed it. I will probably have to have intensive therapy to recover.

Wombats are NOT funny. They are the essence of all that is right with the world, as are dogs and red pandas, and if there was any justice at all I would have one with me now. Admittedly, it would probably be chewing through my walls, but still.

And I very much resent the implication that I wouldn't know who Banjo Paterson was, or have heard of "Clancy of the Overflow." (Although I went back and re-read it when you mentioned Banjo/Clancy - I read it many years ago, when I was innocent and had not yet discovered the Magic of Subtext - and my god. That is a seriously slashy poem, there; even my Best Beloved agrees. I'm not normally one for the RPS, but, well, let's just say that poet RPS is my Achilles heel, and I totally see the Banjo/Clancy now.)

Sheep are indeed funny, but you can't beat wombats for raising the moral and aesthetic tone of a piece. My feelings about other Australian fauna, as requested:

Kangaroos. Capable of looking extremely put-upon. Have Tyrannosaurus rex arms, and look silly as a result.
Goannas. Sleek. Cute. Self-satisfied. Not exclusively Australian, though.
Cockatoos. No. Just, no.
Quokkas. Shockingly cute, and Australians will forever bear the shame of giving such adorable animals a name that sounds like a dog barfing.
Witchetty grubs. I'm not eating them. No. Absolutely not. I'm not enthusiastic about them otherwise - frankly, they look exactly like a miniature version of the small intestine - but I'll tolerate their presence in limited quantities as long as no one expects me to eat them.

EEEEE OK I ACCEPT YOUR PROPOSAL OF MARRIAGE (assuming we are not long lost relatives, etc) because you are the first person outside Australia (as I presume you are) to not look at me like I've grown tentacles when I discuss this stuff. I apologise sincerely for assuming ignorance wrt the great Banjo; it's force of habit, I'm afraid.

Did you know that there are candy witchetty grubs?

I am definitely not in Australia; I'm in California, which some people would argue is part of the United States.

I assume that everyone raised in one of Britain's offshoots or relatives (Canada, NZ, etc.) has heard of Banjo Paterson. Right? Which, by extension, suggests that they would also have heard of Clancy, since if you're going to discuss Paterson at all there's two other names that will come ineluctably to mind: Clancy (because that was the start of his poetic career, wasn't it?) and Matilda (for obvious reasons). Are these people who do the tentacle look not native speakers of English?

Or is the tentacle look because of the idea of Banjo/Clancy slash? I could understand that, because not everyone has yet awakened to the Force of Slash (and, really, such people deserve our pity rather than our censure). Slashers, though, I think would get it the instant they read that poem. It should actually come with a label: subtext ahoy! (Said label would also be useful with M&C. Or, really, any canon involving the British Navy. And most books for boys written before 1955.)

Did you know that there are candy witchetty grubs?

Well, no, but I can't say I'm surprised. Australians seem prone to food perversions.

Actually, it makes sense. I mean, we've got Gummi worms; why shouldn't you have Gummi grubs? (Are they, in fact, Gummi-type candy? Or are they, like, a hard crunchy candy, which would be infinitely worse?)

Nope, not everyone who lives in one of Britain's offhoots has heard of Paterson. In fact, only a very small minority of Canadians I've mentioned it to have heard of him, though most will know of Waltzing Matilda even if they don't know the author.

The candy witchetty grubs are not Gummi[tm] nor are they quite like that. They are whitish/yellowish and not transparent/translucent, but they are chewy. Crunchy would, indeed, be awful. Shades of "crunchy frog" perhaps?

Ooooog. Didn't quite get the concept of chewy candy witchetty grubs before, and now that I do I think I need to lie down for a bit. Or possibly put my head between my knees. Because - chewy grubs. Opaque chewy grubs of some indefinable color between white and yellow. My ethnocentric palate is swooning, here.

I'm almost afraid to ask this, but what flavor are they? Please tell me they aren't grub flavored. Any flavor, including banana, would be better than that. Even bogong flavor would have to be a slight improvement.

I just an awful thought. Are there candy bogong moths? It could be part of the horrible but supposedly edible Australian insect candy variety pack!

(P.S. Am also much depressed by your report that knowledge of good ol' Banjo isn't as widespread as I thought it was. Need good news now. Like news that you have finished your Banjo/Clancy, or that you have posted a new M&C, or that the inventor of the candy witchetty grub has been confined for his safety and the safety of others.)

They're, um, indeterminate sugar flavour. Probably a touch of citric acid. And no, there aren't bogong moths. There are a wide variety of candy frogs and snakes, however (some snakes up to about 2' in length), and there are musk flavoured lifesavers.

I haven't posted new M&C, but I posted new Hornblower fic (http://www.livejournal.com/community/article_xxix/30718.html). It's getting good responses from non-hornblower-indoctrinated readers, so you probably don't need lots of background to enjoy it. And it's somewhat kinky, in a manly men playing rough kind of way, just to fit your latest round of recs ;)

Banjo/Clancy is back on the front burner, btw, but it'll probably still be a while til it all comes together.

Oh, and, fictease!

I must have looked a right city swell, in my neat gaiters and starched
collar, sitting in the public bar of the Booligal Hotel nursing a glass
of gin and water. He walked in like he lived there, greeted the
bartender by name, and swallowed his beer in one long draught, wiping
his mouth with the back of his hand when he was done. He turned to me
then, and with a sardonic twist at the corner of his mouth, said, "New
in town?"

You think you know how the story goes now, of course. You think you
know because you've read it before. It's always the Cuff and Collar
Club getting a thrashing from the Geebung, or it's the reverse, where
Mulga Bill or the Man From Ironbark are embarrassed to find that they
can't quite survive the hurly-burly of the modern world. Nothing could
be more straightforward: the young chap in the starched collar is about
to get his comeuppance, in some dreadfully amusing fashion, possibly
involving a horse.

I set down my gin and water, and smiled disarmingly. Or at least I
would have liked to think it was disarming. "The very latest thing," I
told him, "Fresh from Sydney this afternoon. Paterson." I held out my
hand, and he shook it with a laugh.

"Clancy."

"Pleased to make your acquaintance, Mister Clancy."

"Just Clancy."

"Clancy. You must be a shearer."

He cocked an eyebrow. I reckon he couldn't figure out how a city boy
would know that, but I wasn't born a city boy. I grew up at Illalong,
up along the Murrumbidgee, and I knew a shearer when I saw one standing
in the public bar of the main street hotel in a town built on wool.
Besides, the hand that had shook my own was calloused but not at all
rough; a shearer's hands were always smooth.

"Yeah, for now. Out at the Overflow." He gestured to the barman, who
pulled two more glasses of beer and handed them over the bar. Clancy
passed me one, ignoring my half-finished gin and water. "So, what
brings a bloke like you to the back of beyond?"

"An ardent desire to become better acquainted with sheep."

"Reckon you've come to the right place then." He finished his beer,
stood up, and tipped the barman a wink. "Come on out to the Overflow
tomorrow and I'll show you a few." With that he put on his battered old
hat and left.

OTP, this marriage bed is getting crowded! We need a CA king now. Or two. I am selfish enough to demand the title of First LJ Wife though! How...Handmaid's Tale of me.

WELCOME TO THE FAMILY OMG.

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Slashy Nominations 61: Smut's Winged Chariot Hurrying Near

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