Andromeda Black! SMUT!
Sep. 25th, 2004 07:13 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
runespoorI'm not dead, just sucked into RL.
I'm posting two ficlets I wrote for the Masturbation challenge on![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
tojours_pur. Because yes, we do have things like that on tj. And guess what? There are still plenty of available characters! Who wouldn't want to play Lucius Malfoy when given the chance? Or that dear Elladora? Or even Frank Longbottom, should your tastes run that way? And I'm only naming a few, of course.
So, after the advertisment, here comes TEH SMUT!!!
A/N: both ficlets take place in Andromeda's sixth year, the second one a few months before the first one. I don't think you should need any particular backstory to understand any of it, since it's pretty much PWP. (Also, both character mentioned are NPC OCs.) Unbeated.
And I don't exactly know if I could/should post them to any community at all, so feel free totear to bits give me some advice.
Merry Dream
Sensuality was a Black characteristic, as much as madness, drama, and brilliance. Andromeda had read and learnt enough dusty tomes by heart to have noticed general rules, things that ran in their blood, frequently commented upon, seldom unnoticed. And certainly Andromeda was every drop the Black in that respect. That was why she loved velvet, silk and linen, why she sometimes smoked until she was surrounded by a blueish veil, why she found herself in situations that she hadn't planned whatsoever.
At least it meant she usually was the one to act, she consoled herself.
"Andromeda? You look weird. You sure you're alright?" asked Stephan in a somewhat worried tone when she entered the common room. She barely spared him a glance. Luckily no-one was paying attention to them, as the only students present were a couple of fourth-years by the fire, and a group of harassed-looking third-years sprawled on the couch (that's what happens when you drink yourself stiff and sleep two hours on the night following a Quidditch victory, Andromeda uncharitably thought. Of course, the Silencing Spells she and the other girls had put on the dorm had held, but still).
"I'm just a bit tired, I overworked the Runes essay – it's nothing. Say, why don't we take a stroll by the lake a bit later?" Her lips curved into a suggestive smile. Honestly, she couldn't be more direct. Stephan took the hint and let her go.
She ran up to her dormitory, flung the door open then charmed it closed behind her, and threw herself on her bed. Her heartbeat had sped up, and now she could feel it going strong in her chest. She rolled over on her back, undid the hairpins that held her hair in an unruly knot, and thoughtfully kicked her shoes off.
Then her hand slowly went to her skirt: her wand was sticking out of her pocket. With a lazy move, she pointed it to the door, and muttered an incantation, allowing herself a moment of satisfaction of having interwoven the superficial flux of the room with Runes as soon as she had come back from the winter holidays. Let them try to break into the room; let them try to concentrate on that. She'd be alone all right.
When the enchantment kicked in, she felt the surge of magic rushing through her, her breath caught, and she had to close her eyes from a wave of dizzy pleasure, nipples hardened. Even before it ended, her fingers worked their way in her knickers, which was wet and vaguely sticky from her earlier arousing.
Her lips parted, caught in a fantasy that had more real basis than she'd have thought it could, her fingers insistently stroking her clitoris.
A fleshy mouth under her own, their swift tongues, strawberry-tasting breath, two hands that had held her face in firm place, her own hands pulling a shirt open, long hair getting in the way, to reach the two pointy breasts underneath, Meredith moaning in her mouth…
Her hips bucked up, but she forced her hand to move slower, enjoying that pleasurable torture, that feeling of teetering on the edge, savouring the thought that perhaps Meredith was releasing herself in the same way in the Ravenclaw dormitories.
She could imagine the scene, Meredith coming back from the library with troubled eyes, flushed, her brown locks in disarray. Meredith not realising her shirt missed two buttons, Meredith hurrying in that awkward walk of hers, when you thought she could fell anytime, Meredith's liquid eyes shutting when she'd feverishly get her hand where she wanted, Meredith biting on her lip, having to bite on her lip to stifle a moan, because Meredith would moan, like she had moaned when Andromeda had kissed her, that wonderful little sound that spoke of desire and weakness.
Andromeda too had bitten on Meredith's lip when Meredith had moaned. She had bitten hard, too forcibly, hoping to break the skin, longing for the metallic taste of blood to wash Meredith's sweetness down, a bit too calculatingly sweet, a bit too realistic, bitterly sweet. And her long nails had plunged in the flesh of Meredith's shoulders, deep into realistically soft skin with a tan that suddenly made Andromeda jealous. She wanted to scratch it off, because it was mocking her, laughing that she could always try to mark Meredith, she'd never own anyone, like an insolent, independent tan that defied her.
It took less than a second; Meredith pulled away almost at once, but not before Andromeda was disgusted with herself enough to let go of the body of the taller girl. And before Meredith got up to her feet, shaking, Andromeda had noticed her dilated eyes, and her tongue quickly licking her wounded lip, washing the blood away, and her glistening-lips-short-breath-arousing-plain-on-her-fa—
Andromeda's eyes shot open and her back violently arched as she soundlessly came, seeing lights flashing, before she was accustomed again to the green velvet of the canopy.
Then, in her growing drowsiness, she reminded herself Meredith was just a friend and wouldn't like to be anything else, not even a fantasy, however real, and that she'd said Stephan she'd see him tonight.
Magic Flows Like Water
If asked what were the advantages of being a prefect, Andromeda would have taken a thoughtful expression, waited a few moments, then deadpanned there weren't any. At all. Never. Prefect was certainly not a suitable carrier choice for anyone in their right minds, especially such clever and gifted young people as those witty enough to ask the question.
The reason she would have answered thus, and in fact held to claiming prefecture was a burden of the worst kind, was that she certainly didn't want more people aiming for the badge.
She had discovered the advantage on the very first day of her fifth year. It was the prefect bathroom; and the less people tried to access to it, the better. So much, in fact, that it was of the best-kept secrets of Slytherin House. While it was customary for the Snake House to stick together, and thus to share knowledge in the most profitable way for the ensemble of the group, Slytherin prefects seldom breathed a word on their bathroom, and since everyone had bigger Gryffs to hex than growing a fascination on a bathroom, the scheme held.
One should never underestimate the miracles that can happen when jealousy is at work, Andromeda thought as she let herself sink into the tub. Hot water did wonders on her cold legs and hands and hurting back. She had been dreaming about it for over an hour now; she had had to go outside, under the pouring rain, to smoke five cigarettes in a row, and she had hurried into the bath first thing afterwards, after discarding her clothes as quickly as possible.
Eyes closed, she let her head slowly fall back on the edge of the tub. She breathed in the heavy scent of cinnamon and honey, milk and verbena, opening her mouth at the same time as if to eat the moist atmosphere.
If she could have added her current obsession to the mix, her life would have been complete.
With a sigh, Andromeda removed her right arm from the water, skin prickling against the colder air of the room, and without looking, searched for her wand, which must be somewhere in the bundle of clothes she had unceremoniously dropped on the ground. Feeling the thin stick under her fingers, she retrieved it and, with no hesitation whatsoever, pulled the wand under the water.
Wands tend to have a reaction to pretty much anything they don't really like, be it a person or an element. It can be quite useful when one's wand is thrown into a fire, because wands are rarely suicidal, and never seem to get directly into the fire. Wands reactions to water are much less simple, if only because water, in itself, is a more complex element than plain old burning fire. Consequently, drowning one's wand is practically never done; everyone being, understandably enough, rather wary of experimenting with what most wizards come to consider as their third hand.
Wands containing parts of a dragon, and particularly parts that are directly related to their fire-breathing ability, are those that can do really odd things when confronted with water; Andromeda's wand contained the heartstring of a Hebridean Black, first and, to that day, only of his species to have been found abroad. Andromeda was sure there was a story to that, but Ollivanders had been rather vague and had only added that it had probably flown, long and hard, until it had reached its destination. She had a special attachment to that wand.
Of course, it wasn't the first time she put her wand in water.
Only the first time had demanded some struggle on her part; after that, seeing how different spells worked was only a question of motivation, which Andromeda certainly didn't lack in that instance. And her wand hadn't disappointed her; the same incantation had drastically different results in and out of the water. For instance, a Silencing Spell tickled her; or a Cheering Charm turned the water into rum; or Wingardium Leviosa became the most intense masturbating spell she had ever used.
She had always known, theoretically, that flying and sex were intimately linked (and she wondered about Avada Kedavra and the little death, but she wasn't quite that desperate).
Underwater Wingardium Leviosa was all the proof needed.
Every touch on her skin stimulated her senses, pleasure flourishing as a shiver. She softly trailed her hand from her neck across her flat belly. The water extended every feeling to the rest of her skin, languidly flowing around her breasts, her nipples level with the rippled surface, hardened against the air.
Her left hand was less skilled at that game, and it made it easier to pretend it was Stephan's and not hers, paying reverent, circular caresses around her navel, hesitating above her black curls, softly tracing her lips, as if with a tongue.
Then her cunt opened as some sort of baroque flower revealing its pistil, and her fingers gratefully slipped in, causing her legs to instinctively part wider.
The water magnified the feeling: it was as if her entire body had become one gigantic clitoris, convulsing with the slightest touch. Her teeth had clenched, and now she was heavily breathing through lips that were barely parted, not even conscious that she was trying to refrain from moaning out loud at the pictures her mind provided, of Stephan's head between her thighs, blue eyes not leaving hers as his tongue would slip in and out of her.
She made a conscious effort to remove her right hand, still holding the wand in a shaky grasp, as far from her wanting body as she could, biting her lip, trying not to imagine how it would feel in her, flying her to heaven…
Her resolution failed her.
Her breath short and her eyes wide, trembling with something that was part anticipation and part apprehension, she positioned the wand on her slick opening. There, she took a shallow breath. She felt more aroused with every passing second, more fully aware of her sexuality than ever before. Did taking one's virginity with one's wand count?
The water had perfectly stilled, and Andromeda was only aware of her laboured breathing and her blood pounding against her temples.
Finally, she gathered enough courage to do it.
She couldn't bite back her gasp.
Measured waves of vibrations echoed through her whole body, exploding with regularity, like as many fireworks before her stunned eyes, feeling the pleasure steadily ascending towards its completion. She thought she would come at any moment, but every time, she was reaching higher peaks, until she felt her senses overwhelming her usual control, and she would have screamed with frustration had she still known how to scream.
Her moans filled the bathroom, escaping her lips freely by now, hybrid things that could end in a shout or a whimper, but that never stopped.
As a more powerful wave of pleasure broke through her, Andromeda's eyes snapped open, rolling back in ecstasy, her eminently breakable neck stretching itself into an arch towards an unreachable goal.
She stopped dead as she caught sight of a shape standing right before the tub.
With a sickened horror, her flesh throbbing for more, wand in plain view, sticking out of her cunt, open, offered, she looked up, slowly, from his feet up to his attractive shoulders to his black-dilated, spellbound pupils. He was still wearing his robes, but they did nothing to hide his furious erection. She should have felt at a distinct disadvantage, with her situation and his standing tall above her, fully dressed.
She had no idea when Stephan had arrived and how much he had witnessed, but she hadn't had her orgasm yet, and her body was screaming for it.
She looked at his erection, gratified to see it twitch under her scrutiny, licked her lips, and looked straight in his eyes.
"Care to join me?" she asked, in a throaty tone after her vocal performance.
His only answer was to take his robe off. Andromeda rapturously watched him strip; her hips rocked around the now inert wand, her fingers fondled her blushing nipples without her realising it, captivated by every inch that Stephan laid bare. She imagined his texture on her, his lean muscles pushing against her until she developed bruises. His cock glistened with pre-come, and seemed to salute her fascination with a jolt.
Finally, he slipped into the water, pining Andromeda down with his stare. Her breathing quickened and, aching, she licked her lips again, making a show of it. When he had her trapped between his body and the stone, he seemed not to know what to do next.
"Andromeda – I – I mean I'm–"
She had heard enough, and recovered just enough of her usual authority for the occasion. She spoke in a tone that broke no discussion.
"Stephan. Fuck me blind."
With a surprisingly considerate care, he gently took the wand out; it slid as easily as it had the first time, and Andromeda let go of a long moan that came from the deepest of her singing blood, which he stopped by a deep kiss. Her legs wrapped around his waist, and, just as gently, Stephan replaced the wand by his cock.
Andromeda felt at once the difference, bigger, more forceful, more obviously present; she wiggled to get into place, more zealously than was perhaps strictly necessary, rubbing her breasts against his chest, taking sly pleasure from Stephan's trying to keep her from moving too violently, his hitched breath, his strong hands gripping her hips.
Soon, Andromeda was moaning again.
I'm posting two ficlets I wrote for the Masturbation challenge on
tojours_pur. Because yes, we do have things like that on tj. And guess what? There are still plenty of available characters! Who wouldn't want to play Lucius Malfoy when given the chance? Or that dear Elladora? Or even Frank Longbottom, should your tastes run that way? And I'm only naming a few, of course.So, after the advertisment, here comes TEH SMUT!!!
A/N: both ficlets take place in Andromeda's sixth year, the second one a few months before the first one. I don't think you should need any particular backstory to understand any of it, since it's pretty much PWP. (Also, both character mentioned are NPC OCs.) Unbeated.
And I don't exactly know if I could/should post them to any community at all, so feel free to
Merry Dream
Sensuality was a Black characteristic, as much as madness, drama, and brilliance. Andromeda had read and learnt enough dusty tomes by heart to have noticed general rules, things that ran in their blood, frequently commented upon, seldom unnoticed. And certainly Andromeda was every drop the Black in that respect. That was why she loved velvet, silk and linen, why she sometimes smoked until she was surrounded by a blueish veil, why she found herself in situations that she hadn't planned whatsoever.
At least it meant she usually was the one to act, she consoled herself.
"Andromeda? You look weird. You sure you're alright?" asked Stephan in a somewhat worried tone when she entered the common room. She barely spared him a glance. Luckily no-one was paying attention to them, as the only students present were a couple of fourth-years by the fire, and a group of harassed-looking third-years sprawled on the couch (that's what happens when you drink yourself stiff and sleep two hours on the night following a Quidditch victory, Andromeda uncharitably thought. Of course, the Silencing Spells she and the other girls had put on the dorm had held, but still).
"I'm just a bit tired, I overworked the Runes essay – it's nothing. Say, why don't we take a stroll by the lake a bit later?" Her lips curved into a suggestive smile. Honestly, she couldn't be more direct. Stephan took the hint and let her go.
She ran up to her dormitory, flung the door open then charmed it closed behind her, and threw herself on her bed. Her heartbeat had sped up, and now she could feel it going strong in her chest. She rolled over on her back, undid the hairpins that held her hair in an unruly knot, and thoughtfully kicked her shoes off.
Then her hand slowly went to her skirt: her wand was sticking out of her pocket. With a lazy move, she pointed it to the door, and muttered an incantation, allowing herself a moment of satisfaction of having interwoven the superficial flux of the room with Runes as soon as she had come back from the winter holidays. Let them try to break into the room; let them try to concentrate on that. She'd be alone all right.
When the enchantment kicked in, she felt the surge of magic rushing through her, her breath caught, and she had to close her eyes from a wave of dizzy pleasure, nipples hardened. Even before it ended, her fingers worked their way in her knickers, which was wet and vaguely sticky from her earlier arousing.
Her lips parted, caught in a fantasy that had more real basis than she'd have thought it could, her fingers insistently stroking her clitoris.
A fleshy mouth under her own, their swift tongues, strawberry-tasting breath, two hands that had held her face in firm place, her own hands pulling a shirt open, long hair getting in the way, to reach the two pointy breasts underneath, Meredith moaning in her mouth…
Her hips bucked up, but she forced her hand to move slower, enjoying that pleasurable torture, that feeling of teetering on the edge, savouring the thought that perhaps Meredith was releasing herself in the same way in the Ravenclaw dormitories.
She could imagine the scene, Meredith coming back from the library with troubled eyes, flushed, her brown locks in disarray. Meredith not realising her shirt missed two buttons, Meredith hurrying in that awkward walk of hers, when you thought she could fell anytime, Meredith's liquid eyes shutting when she'd feverishly get her hand where she wanted, Meredith biting on her lip, having to bite on her lip to stifle a moan, because Meredith would moan, like she had moaned when Andromeda had kissed her, that wonderful little sound that spoke of desire and weakness.
Andromeda too had bitten on Meredith's lip when Meredith had moaned. She had bitten hard, too forcibly, hoping to break the skin, longing for the metallic taste of blood to wash Meredith's sweetness down, a bit too calculatingly sweet, a bit too realistic, bitterly sweet. And her long nails had plunged in the flesh of Meredith's shoulders, deep into realistically soft skin with a tan that suddenly made Andromeda jealous. She wanted to scratch it off, because it was mocking her, laughing that she could always try to mark Meredith, she'd never own anyone, like an insolent, independent tan that defied her.
It took less than a second; Meredith pulled away almost at once, but not before Andromeda was disgusted with herself enough to let go of the body of the taller girl. And before Meredith got up to her feet, shaking, Andromeda had noticed her dilated eyes, and her tongue quickly licking her wounded lip, washing the blood away, and her glistening-lips-short-breath-arousing-plain-on-her-fa—
Andromeda's eyes shot open and her back violently arched as she soundlessly came, seeing lights flashing, before she was accustomed again to the green velvet of the canopy.
Then, in her growing drowsiness, she reminded herself Meredith was just a friend and wouldn't like to be anything else, not even a fantasy, however real, and that she'd said Stephan she'd see him tonight.
Magic Flows Like Water
If asked what were the advantages of being a prefect, Andromeda would have taken a thoughtful expression, waited a few moments, then deadpanned there weren't any. At all. Never. Prefect was certainly not a suitable carrier choice for anyone in their right minds, especially such clever and gifted young people as those witty enough to ask the question.
The reason she would have answered thus, and in fact held to claiming prefecture was a burden of the worst kind, was that she certainly didn't want more people aiming for the badge.
She had discovered the advantage on the very first day of her fifth year. It was the prefect bathroom; and the less people tried to access to it, the better. So much, in fact, that it was of the best-kept secrets of Slytherin House. While it was customary for the Snake House to stick together, and thus to share knowledge in the most profitable way for the ensemble of the group, Slytherin prefects seldom breathed a word on their bathroom, and since everyone had bigger Gryffs to hex than growing a fascination on a bathroom, the scheme held.
One should never underestimate the miracles that can happen when jealousy is at work, Andromeda thought as she let herself sink into the tub. Hot water did wonders on her cold legs and hands and hurting back. She had been dreaming about it for over an hour now; she had had to go outside, under the pouring rain, to smoke five cigarettes in a row, and she had hurried into the bath first thing afterwards, after discarding her clothes as quickly as possible.
Eyes closed, she let her head slowly fall back on the edge of the tub. She breathed in the heavy scent of cinnamon and honey, milk and verbena, opening her mouth at the same time as if to eat the moist atmosphere.
If she could have added her current obsession to the mix, her life would have been complete.
With a sigh, Andromeda removed her right arm from the water, skin prickling against the colder air of the room, and without looking, searched for her wand, which must be somewhere in the bundle of clothes she had unceremoniously dropped on the ground. Feeling the thin stick under her fingers, she retrieved it and, with no hesitation whatsoever, pulled the wand under the water.
Wands tend to have a reaction to pretty much anything they don't really like, be it a person or an element. It can be quite useful when one's wand is thrown into a fire, because wands are rarely suicidal, and never seem to get directly into the fire. Wands reactions to water are much less simple, if only because water, in itself, is a more complex element than plain old burning fire. Consequently, drowning one's wand is practically never done; everyone being, understandably enough, rather wary of experimenting with what most wizards come to consider as their third hand.
Wands containing parts of a dragon, and particularly parts that are directly related to their fire-breathing ability, are those that can do really odd things when confronted with water; Andromeda's wand contained the heartstring of a Hebridean Black, first and, to that day, only of his species to have been found abroad. Andromeda was sure there was a story to that, but Ollivanders had been rather vague and had only added that it had probably flown, long and hard, until it had reached its destination. She had a special attachment to that wand.
Of course, it wasn't the first time she put her wand in water.
Only the first time had demanded some struggle on her part; after that, seeing how different spells worked was only a question of motivation, which Andromeda certainly didn't lack in that instance. And her wand hadn't disappointed her; the same incantation had drastically different results in and out of the water. For instance, a Silencing Spell tickled her; or a Cheering Charm turned the water into rum; or Wingardium Leviosa became the most intense masturbating spell she had ever used.
She had always known, theoretically, that flying and sex were intimately linked (and she wondered about Avada Kedavra and the little death, but she wasn't quite that desperate).
Underwater Wingardium Leviosa was all the proof needed.
Every touch on her skin stimulated her senses, pleasure flourishing as a shiver. She softly trailed her hand from her neck across her flat belly. The water extended every feeling to the rest of her skin, languidly flowing around her breasts, her nipples level with the rippled surface, hardened against the air.
Her left hand was less skilled at that game, and it made it easier to pretend it was Stephan's and not hers, paying reverent, circular caresses around her navel, hesitating above her black curls, softly tracing her lips, as if with a tongue.
Then her cunt opened as some sort of baroque flower revealing its pistil, and her fingers gratefully slipped in, causing her legs to instinctively part wider.
The water magnified the feeling: it was as if her entire body had become one gigantic clitoris, convulsing with the slightest touch. Her teeth had clenched, and now she was heavily breathing through lips that were barely parted, not even conscious that she was trying to refrain from moaning out loud at the pictures her mind provided, of Stephan's head between her thighs, blue eyes not leaving hers as his tongue would slip in and out of her.
She made a conscious effort to remove her right hand, still holding the wand in a shaky grasp, as far from her wanting body as she could, biting her lip, trying not to imagine how it would feel in her, flying her to heaven…
Her resolution failed her.
Her breath short and her eyes wide, trembling with something that was part anticipation and part apprehension, she positioned the wand on her slick opening. There, she took a shallow breath. She felt more aroused with every passing second, more fully aware of her sexuality than ever before. Did taking one's virginity with one's wand count?
The water had perfectly stilled, and Andromeda was only aware of her laboured breathing and her blood pounding against her temples.
Finally, she gathered enough courage to do it.
She couldn't bite back her gasp.
Measured waves of vibrations echoed through her whole body, exploding with regularity, like as many fireworks before her stunned eyes, feeling the pleasure steadily ascending towards its completion. She thought she would come at any moment, but every time, she was reaching higher peaks, until she felt her senses overwhelming her usual control, and she would have screamed with frustration had she still known how to scream.
Her moans filled the bathroom, escaping her lips freely by now, hybrid things that could end in a shout or a whimper, but that never stopped.
As a more powerful wave of pleasure broke through her, Andromeda's eyes snapped open, rolling back in ecstasy, her eminently breakable neck stretching itself into an arch towards an unreachable goal.
She stopped dead as she caught sight of a shape standing right before the tub.
With a sickened horror, her flesh throbbing for more, wand in plain view, sticking out of her cunt, open, offered, she looked up, slowly, from his feet up to his attractive shoulders to his black-dilated, spellbound pupils. He was still wearing his robes, but they did nothing to hide his furious erection. She should have felt at a distinct disadvantage, with her situation and his standing tall above her, fully dressed.
She had no idea when Stephan had arrived and how much he had witnessed, but she hadn't had her orgasm yet, and her body was screaming for it.
She looked at his erection, gratified to see it twitch under her scrutiny, licked her lips, and looked straight in his eyes.
"Care to join me?" she asked, in a throaty tone after her vocal performance.
His only answer was to take his robe off. Andromeda rapturously watched him strip; her hips rocked around the now inert wand, her fingers fondled her blushing nipples without her realising it, captivated by every inch that Stephan laid bare. She imagined his texture on her, his lean muscles pushing against her until she developed bruises. His cock glistened with pre-come, and seemed to salute her fascination with a jolt.
Finally, he slipped into the water, pining Andromeda down with his stare. Her breathing quickened and, aching, she licked her lips again, making a show of it. When he had her trapped between his body and the stone, he seemed not to know what to do next.
"Andromeda – I – I mean I'm–"
She had heard enough, and recovered just enough of her usual authority for the occasion. She spoke in a tone that broke no discussion.
"Stephan. Fuck me blind."
With a surprisingly considerate care, he gently took the wand out; it slid as easily as it had the first time, and Andromeda let go of a long moan that came from the deepest of her singing blood, which he stopped by a deep kiss. Her legs wrapped around his waist, and, just as gently, Stephan replaced the wand by his cock.
Andromeda felt at once the difference, bigger, more forceful, more obviously present; she wiggled to get into place, more zealously than was perhaps strictly necessary, rubbing her breasts against his chest, taking sly pleasure from Stephan's trying to keep her from moving too violently, his hitched breath, his strong hands gripping her hips.
Soon, Andromeda was moaning again.
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Date: 2004-09-25 08:28 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-09-25 10:10 pm (UTC)