AHAHAHAHAHAHA Yes, that's exactly what I've heard about What to Expect..
Everybody needs brain worms! They're fun for the whole family! :D
*steals some of your popcorn*
*steals some of your popcorn*
#2: I was thinking Maggie-less AU, because I haven't read Changes yet (but I'm completly spoiled), so I can't really relate to her character in any way. I'm mostly only interested in the scene, where they argue and Harry blurts it all out to Marcone.
#1: That's why I was proposing large quantities of alcohol. :) As for John's stalking tendencies... Harry gets really, really good at using a veil? ;) (Supposedly) disappears his male self in Nevernever and moves his female self to Murphy's couch? It's a kink meme! Realims gets checked at the door. And if not, we can always use... magic! :-)
#1: That's why I was proposing large quantities of alcohol. :) As for John's stalking tendencies... Harry gets really, really good at using a veil? ;) (Supposedly) disappears his male self in Nevernever and moves his female self to Murphy's couch? It's a kink meme! Realims gets checked at the door. And if not, we can always use... magic! :-)
I am stuck on the Doctor Who crossover. So I started a Sherlock BBC crossover! excellent plan, self! *highfives*
“Sherlock Holmes.”
“I don’t get many Americans. Nor do I get many Luddites. Even fewer are welcomed to Mycroft’s offices. Why are you here?”
“I need a favor. And your brother owes me one. Several, in fact. He said to tell you that the time with the petunias would be considered even.”
“Ah, how tiresome. What is the nature of this favor?”
The American (2.75 meters, black hair, Caucasian, 70-80 kilograms. A runner by habit, recently come into some money but far from wealthy, perhaps superstitious or Wiccan by his pentacle. Accustomed to violence by the scarring and quite firm of heart if he could cash in Mycroft’s favor without even a hint of nerves.) held out a small wooden chest. It was hand made, of white oak (common to the American Midwest which fit his Chicago accent, crafted by a Master carpenter) and the brass hinges were inlaid with silver (more evidence in favor of occult leanings - the inlay was a pattern of ancient Norse runes). “I need you to keep this safe until I come back for it. It may be some time. And in addition to your brother’s forgiveness over the matter of the petunias, I am offering a return favor of my own. You may call upon me at your discretion, at any time after I have retrieved the box. Contacting me before then would be dangerous.”
Sherlock considered the man before him over steepled fingers. He didn’t appear to be a criminal - none of the obvious clues that Sherlock had observed pointed to a life of crime. And as favors went, the “petunia incident” was a good one to have wiped clean.
“What is your name?” he asked, “And is there anybody you wish to designate as your proxy?”
The American smiled. “Harry Dresden. And yes - if Margaret Mendoza comes to you, and she is over 15, you may give her the box. But she’s only 7 this year, and I plan to be back sooner than that.” He placed the box on the coffee table. “Thank you,” Dresden said, and he walked away.
Sherlock waited for Dresden’s footsteps to fade, and the door to slam behind him, before springing up to open the box. Curiosity, he knew, would always win in the end. Better by far to have all the data from the start.
There was a wrapped bundle inside, and a letter on top of the cloth addressed to Sherlock himself.
From everything Mycroft has said - which isn’t much - I knew you wouldn’t be able to leave it entirely alone. He is very old, and a little fragile, but if you’re bold enough to open the box you’re welcome to keep him on your mantle. Some company for your deductions?
Delicately opening the cloth, Sherlock found an ancient, dry skull and, strangely, a sensationalist romance novel. The skull seemed to fit Dresden - tall, dark, deliberately mysterious. The novel was completely unexpected.
“Well. Perhaps Dresden is more interesting than he appeared. And you... I shall call you Victor. You have precisely his zygomatic arch.”
I have no idea what the Petunia Incident was. *ponders*
“Sherlock Holmes.”
“I don’t get many Americans. Nor do I get many Luddites. Even fewer are welcomed to Mycroft’s offices. Why are you here?”
“I need a favor. And your brother owes me one. Several, in fact. He said to tell you that the time with the petunias would be considered even.”
“Ah, how tiresome. What is the nature of this favor?”
The American (2.75 meters, black hair, Caucasian, 70-80 kilograms. A runner by habit, recently come into some money but far from wealthy, perhaps superstitious or Wiccan by his pentacle. Accustomed to violence by the scarring and quite firm of heart if he could cash in Mycroft’s favor without even a hint of nerves.) held out a small wooden chest. It was hand made, of white oak (common to the American Midwest which fit his Chicago accent, crafted by a Master carpenter) and the brass hinges were inlaid with silver (more evidence in favor of occult leanings - the inlay was a pattern of ancient Norse runes). “I need you to keep this safe until I come back for it. It may be some time. And in addition to your brother’s forgiveness over the matter of the petunias, I am offering a return favor of my own. You may call upon me at your discretion, at any time after I have retrieved the box. Contacting me before then would be dangerous.”
Sherlock considered the man before him over steepled fingers. He didn’t appear to be a criminal - none of the obvious clues that Sherlock had observed pointed to a life of crime. And as favors went, the “petunia incident” was a good one to have wiped clean.
“What is your name?” he asked, “And is there anybody you wish to designate as your proxy?”
The American smiled. “Harry Dresden. And yes - if Margaret Mendoza comes to you, and she is over 15, you may give her the box. But she’s only 7 this year, and I plan to be back sooner than that.” He placed the box on the coffee table. “Thank you,” Dresden said, and he walked away.
Sherlock waited for Dresden’s footsteps to fade, and the door to slam behind him, before springing up to open the box. Curiosity, he knew, would always win in the end. Better by far to have all the data from the start.
There was a wrapped bundle inside, and a letter on top of the cloth addressed to Sherlock himself.
From everything Mycroft has said - which isn’t much - I knew you wouldn’t be able to leave it entirely alone. He is very old, and a little fragile, but if you’re bold enough to open the box you’re welcome to keep him on your mantle. Some company for your deductions?
Delicately opening the cloth, Sherlock found an ancient, dry skull and, strangely, a sensationalist romance novel. The skull seemed to fit Dresden - tall, dark, deliberately mysterious. The novel was completely unexpected.
“Well. Perhaps Dresden is more interesting than he appeared. And you... I shall call you Victor. You have precisely his zygomatic arch.”
I have no idea what the Petunia Incident was. *ponders*
Victor was, as Dresden’s letter had jokingly suggested, excellent company. Sherlock left him on the mantel, mostly, as holding him felt rather too Shakespearean. It was useful for his deductions to have something to talk at - and yes, he might have talked at a lamp or the ceiling just as effectively. Nonetheless, it felt more natural to speak to the skull - something that had once possessed intelligence - than to an inanimate object. He had entirely stopped thinking of it as strange, when John Watson came into his life and his apartment, and called his attention to the oddities of his existence.
Nonetheless, while John objected to more recent human remains - such as eyeballs in the olive jar or fingers in the tea kettle - he seemed perfectly comfortable with ones that had been reduced to bone long ago. Sherlock liked him all the better for it.
Nonetheless, while John objected to more recent human remains - such as eyeballs in the olive jar or fingers in the tea kettle - he seemed perfectly comfortable with ones that had been reduced to bone long ago. Sherlock liked him all the better for it.
Obviously we need a Han. Thomas, anyone? Or Ramirez? Can't decide which would be funnier and more awesome.
Wait a minute. You mean that there are people who imagine alwaysagirl!Harry as shorter than Marcone? Have I been misreading every alwaysagirl!Harry/Marcone fic???
Lol, yes, of course the skull is Bob.
(frozen comment) Please, don't say anything. Even the subject line is full of fail.
(Anonymous) 2011-03-17 10:14 pm (UTC)(link)sorry; long prompt is ablist as fuck and insulting.
There. Fixed it for you.
\o/
I think Dresden is a LBD of a fandom - Dresden can get literally anywhere he wants without that much effort via the Ways. Why wouldn't accidentally run into Mycroft and earn several favors? *handwaves*
I think Dresden is a LBD of a fandom - Dresden can get literally anywhere he wants without that much effort via the Ways. Why wouldn't accidentally run into Mycroft and earn several favors? *handwaves*
No, it makes perfect sense. And now with Harry being at loose ends, gods only know how much mileage Bob's gonna get.
Heck, Sanya and Michael are kinda perfect for the same "drop in hot" usage, actually.
Heck, Sanya and Michael are kinda perfect for the same "drop in hot" usage, actually.
Right? They are sent by god authoranon to where the need is greatest!
It's like Butcher wanted us to write crossovers. *nodnod*
also, uh, he. Why wouldn't he. Clearly, I accidentally the whole thing. :\
It's like Butcher wanted us to write crossovers. *nodnod*
also, uh, he. Why wouldn't he. Clearly, I accidentally the whole thing. :\
LMAO, love Harry's outrage at having morning sickness in the evening :D
Alert Readers might notice that the spot Marcone was rubbing in chapter 2 was not where Harry was injured in the book. This is because my AU branched earlier, during their meeting. Chaos Butterfly ripples of change radiated out from there, one result of which was that Harry fell in a slightly different position, was paralysed at the bottom of his neck rather than near his waist. Yes. And I certainly didn't misremember anything. Also, to be clear, I'm assuming that this prompt is intrinsically dub-con in nature, for future reference. Onward!
I did fall asleep soon after that, and woke in the early afternoon. There was a gratifyingly large tray of food on the bedside table, all of it convenient for someone with one working hand and no inclination to turn over. The water and juice had sippy cup lids, which was embarassing, but ultimately necessary. I devoured everything.
About half an hour later a maid stuck her head in and seemed relived to see me awake. I let her help me to the bathroom and firmly insisted that I could take it from there. She tried arguing that she had nurses' training and had seen it before, but there are just some things a man has to do on his own, is my opinion.
By the time I acknowledged to myself that I wasn't going to make it back to bed on my own and called her for help, there was more food, and also a lawyer. Apparently there was a whole big legal mess. First of all, Maggie's birth certifiate didn't have my name on it. I had to sign some things to get a paternity test. I had to sign some things to apply for custody. I had to sign some things to change my legal residence. I had to sign some things to...I don't even know, I was tired, okay? I just signed things.
And this was all apart from the FBI investigation. John came down explain our official story himself, clearing out everyone but Hendricks, who wandered over to examine a shelf of books.
The story was basically, that a drug cartel had kidnapped Maggie to use as leverage to force John to make - Gasp!- illegal deals. Then they'd kidnapped me and Susan as well, right out of the FBI building. They'd tortured me and murdered her. He'd eyed me at this point, and I'd looked away, trying to read the spine of the books Hendricks was by. What was he so interested in?
Thanks in part to the totally coincidental chaos that errupted in Latin America, our captors had been spotted by the people Marcone had looking for us, and Maggie and I had been rescued. The captors had gotten away. Darn. No one had been in Mexico. I'd been take to Marcone's house due to my deathly and well documented fear of hospitals.
Why had Maggie been a hostage against John? Why were we moving in with him? Because a little while after I'd been banned from working with SI, he'd asked me out. We'd been romantically involved ever since. News to me.
I did fall asleep soon after that, and woke in the early afternoon. There was a gratifyingly large tray of food on the bedside table, all of it convenient for someone with one working hand and no inclination to turn over. The water and juice had sippy cup lids, which was embarassing, but ultimately necessary. I devoured everything.
About half an hour later a maid stuck her head in and seemed relived to see me awake. I let her help me to the bathroom and firmly insisted that I could take it from there. She tried arguing that she had nurses' training and had seen it before, but there are just some things a man has to do on his own, is my opinion.
By the time I acknowledged to myself that I wasn't going to make it back to bed on my own and called her for help, there was more food, and also a lawyer. Apparently there was a whole big legal mess. First of all, Maggie's birth certifiate didn't have my name on it. I had to sign some things to get a paternity test. I had to sign some things to apply for custody. I had to sign some things to change my legal residence. I had to sign some things to...I don't even know, I was tired, okay? I just signed things.
And this was all apart from the FBI investigation. John came down explain our official story himself, clearing out everyone but Hendricks, who wandered over to examine a shelf of books.
The story was basically, that a drug cartel had kidnapped Maggie to use as leverage to force John to make - Gasp!- illegal deals. Then they'd kidnapped me and Susan as well, right out of the FBI building. They'd tortured me and murdered her. He'd eyed me at this point, and I'd looked away, trying to read the spine of the books Hendricks was by. What was he so interested in?
Thanks in part to the totally coincidental chaos that errupted in Latin America, our captors had been spotted by the people Marcone had looking for us, and Maggie and I had been rescued. The captors had gotten away. Darn. No one had been in Mexico. I'd been take to Marcone's house due to my deathly and well documented fear of hospitals.
Why had Maggie been a hostage against John? Why were we moving in with him? Because a little while after I'd been banned from working with SI, he'd asked me out. We'd been romantically involved ever since. News to me.
is there a high resolution version of that icon picture somewhere? because my face is trying to do LOL WUT and D: simultaneously.
also: yay! \o/
also: yay! \o/
(frozen comment) Re: Please, don't say anything. Even the subject line is full of fail.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lightgetsin
2011-03-17 10:50 pm (UTC)(link)
I was about to click the anon button to say general "word," but actually I have no problem putting my name to the fact that this prompt made my skin crawl. Because stories in which a disabled person is cured against their express will, stories about how hard it is for an able-bodied person to deal with having a disabled partner , boo hoo -- stories whose entire thrust is that the able-bodied person's feelings here are clearly most important regarding the body of their partner -- stories where a person with a long-term condition is dismissed and ignored when they say they are fine, that is not okay.
And it is absolutely not kinkbashing to say so, unless the anon is actually willing to say that ablism is their kink.
And it is absolutely not kinkbashing to say so, unless the anon is actually willing to say that ablism is their kink.
(frozen comment) Re: Please, don't say anything. Even the subject line is full of fail.
(Anonymous) 2011-03-17 11:04 pm (UTC)(link)I really hate to say this, but ymmv. We've had requests for non-con and such, too, and as this requests doesn't include bashing, just some other dubious things, they're allowed in the meme.
While your opinion is respectable, it might make it difficult to have people voice their kinks, again, questionable and dubious or whatever they are, as ablist as they might be. This is supposed to be a kink meme. It might be a case of "If you don't like it, don't read/look at it."
Some of the prompts have made me cringe and I moved past them and looked for others I've liked. This one might hit most of your buttons in a bad way, but you can move past it.
While your opinion is respectable, it might make it difficult to have people voice their kinks, again, questionable and dubious or whatever they are, as ablist as they might be. This is supposed to be a kink meme. It might be a case of "If you don't like it, don't read/look at it."
Some of the prompts have made me cringe and I moved past them and looked for others I've liked. This one might hit most of your buttons in a bad way, but you can move past it.
(frozen comment) Re: Please, don't say anything. Even the subject line is full of fail.
(Anonymous) 2011-03-17 11:09 pm (UTC)(link)I think you mean "ablest" (or possibly "disablest") because yes, it is an "e."
Also, I'm sorry if you feel it's insulting, but I don't think wanting cures for something is something to feel insulted about. Also, the prompt doesn't specifically state that the other character is disabled - only that they have some sort of long-lasting disease or curse. Considering those offered by the "preferred pairings," this disease or curse shouldn't really be considered disabling. Those characters are certainly capable of doing anything that most other people are capable of doing.
You've also forgotten to consider the fact that, yes, Jim Butcher's world is a world of faults. Harry is a misogynist to an extent - shifting that to someone else who has a problem he may be able to ease/cure.
Also, I fail to see how helping with a problem is insulting when we have prompts that include tentacle porn, borderline bestiality, rape, and fuck-or-die prompts and fills.
Tacking the bond-or-don't-do-it at the end isn't just a "happily ever after" throw-on either. It means that there isn't just some cure out there where Harry can wave his magic (metaphorical) wand and make everything better. It's a serious decision with serious, long-term consequences that, considering the relationship between the two characters, could mean that the "cure" is actually worse than the disease.
So, yes, in the end I am mildly hurt by the fact that you find this insulting, especially considering that I live with a physically disabled brother and a mentally disabled aunt and know how very hard it can be to live with disabled people who look and act "normal."
I am sorry for making you feel bad, or insulted, or whatever, but you got your wish anon - your comment alone was enough to insure that this prompt never gets filled. I'll be asking the emmymod to lock/delete at her discretion.
Also, I'm sorry if you feel it's insulting, but I don't think wanting cures for something is something to feel insulted about. Also, the prompt doesn't specifically state that the other character is disabled - only that they have some sort of long-lasting disease or curse. Considering those offered by the "preferred pairings," this disease or curse shouldn't really be considered disabling. Those characters are certainly capable of doing anything that most other people are capable of doing.
You've also forgotten to consider the fact that, yes, Jim Butcher's world is a world of faults. Harry is a misogynist to an extent - shifting that to someone else who has a problem he may be able to ease/cure.
Also, I fail to see how helping with a problem is insulting when we have prompts that include tentacle porn, borderline bestiality, rape, and fuck-or-die prompts and fills.
Tacking the bond-or-don't-do-it at the end isn't just a "happily ever after" throw-on either. It means that there isn't just some cure out there where Harry can wave his magic (metaphorical) wand and make everything better. It's a serious decision with serious, long-term consequences that, considering the relationship between the two characters, could mean that the "cure" is actually worse than the disease.
So, yes, in the end I am mildly hurt by the fact that you find this insulting, especially considering that I live with a physically disabled brother and a mentally disabled aunt and know how very hard it can be to live with disabled people who look and act "normal."
I am sorry for making you feel bad, or insulted, or whatever, but you got your wish anon - your comment alone was enough to insure that this prompt never gets filled. I'll be asking the emmymod to lock/delete at her discretion.
There is apparently a problem with this prompt. As the OP, I'm asking you to either lock or delete at your discretion.
(frozen comment) Re: Please, don't say anything. Even the subject line is full of fail.
lightgetsin
2011-03-17 11:15 pm (UTC)(link)
Some of the prompts have made me cringe and I moved past them and looked for others I've liked
No, it is absolutely not the same to say that "a kink I don't like" is analogous to "someone's request is ablist and socially offensive." What this prompt is asking for would be completely unacceptable in the race context, "I turned my partner white without asking him because it's hard for me to deal with dating someone of color, and this is better for him." That's what this prompt is doing in the disability context. Equating that to someone just not having a noncon kink is shortsighted and simply incorrect.
People may like what they like and not like what they don't like. They may not, however, say things like the above and expect not to get called on them. Kinkmeme is not a free pass to be racist or ablist -- it is a relatively safe space of relative anonymity where desires can be discussed and fulfilled. And part of having a safe space is the ability to call people on their shit when it is, I repeat, not okay.
No, it is absolutely not the same to say that "a kink I don't like" is analogous to "someone's request is ablist and socially offensive." What this prompt is asking for would be completely unacceptable in the race context, "I turned my partner white without asking him because it's hard for me to deal with dating someone of color, and this is better for him." That's what this prompt is doing in the disability context. Equating that to someone just not having a noncon kink is shortsighted and simply incorrect.
People may like what they like and not like what they don't like. They may not, however, say things like the above and expect not to get called on them. Kinkmeme is not a free pass to be racist or ablist -- it is a relatively safe space of relative anonymity where desires can be discussed and fulfilled. And part of having a safe space is the ability to call people on their shit when it is, I repeat, not okay.
(frozen comment) Re: Please, don't say anything. Even the subject line is full of fail.
(Anonymous) 2011-03-17 11:20 pm (UTC)(link)YMMV. YKINMK. Move on.
(frozen comment) Re: Please, don't say anything. Even the subject line is full of fail.
lightgetsin
2011-03-17 11:23 pm (UTC)(link)
No, I definitely mean ablist
You might want to read about it -- it will explain a number of things, including why having some able-bodied person come along and arbitrarily decide that someone needs a cure is offensive.
I am disabled. I do not need to be cured. I am insulted by the suggestion that my life is flawed and I need a cure to make it better. My life is awesome. The assumption that people need to be cured is, in fact, ablism.
ablism with an I, and everything.
And I think you just won my argument for me. Thank you. That was beautiful.
You might want to read about it -- it will explain a number of things, including why having some able-bodied person come along and arbitrarily decide that someone needs a cure is offensive.
I am disabled. I do not need to be cured. I am insulted by the suggestion that my life is flawed and I need a cure to make it better. My life is awesome. The assumption that people need to be cured is, in fact, ablism.
ablism with an I, and everything.
And I think you just won my argument for me. Thank you. That was beautiful.
(frozen comment) Re: Please, don't say anything. Even the subject line is full of fail.
(Anonymous) 2011-03-17 11:23 pm (UTC)(link)It's a legitimate request, so don't feel upset about it. There are more ways to write it than just as one perfectly abled person being held over a disabled person in some way, with all of the angst falling on the perfectly abled person. This is a bad place to be made to feel bad about requesting something.
Page 130 of 177
- «
- 1
- 2
- 3
- 4
- 5
- 6
- 7
- 8
- 9
- 10
- 11
- 12
- 13
- 14
- 15
- 16
- 17
- 18
- 19
- 20
- 21
- 22
- 23
- 24
- 25
- 26
- 27
- 28
- 29
- 30
- 31
- 32
- 33
- 34
- 35
- 36
- 37
- 38
- 39
- 40
- 41
- 42
- 43
- 44
- 45
- 46
- 47
- 48
- 49
- 50
- 51
- 52
- 53
- 54
- 55
- 56
- 57
- 58
- 59
- 60
- 61
- 62
- 63
- 64
- 65
- 66
- 67
- 68
- 69
- 70
- 71
- 72
- 73
- 74
- 75
- 76
- 77
- 78
- 79
- 80
- 81
- 82
- 83
- 84
- 85
- 86
- 87
- 88
- 89
- 90
- 91
- 92
- 93
- 94
- 95
- 96
- 97
- 98
- 99
- 100
- 101
- 102
- 103
- 104
- 105
- 106
- 107
- 108
- 109
- 110
- 111
- 112
- 113
- 114
- 115
- 116
- 117
- 118
- 119
- 120
- 121
- 122
- 123
- 124
- 125
- 126
- 127
- 128
- 129
- 130
- 131
- 132
- 133
- 134
- 135
- 136
- 137
- 138
- 139
- 140
- 141
- 142
- 143
- 144
- 145
- 146
- 147
- 148
- 149
- 150
- 151
- 152
- 153
- 154
- 155
- 156
- 157
- 158
- 159
- 160
- 161
- 162
- 163
- 164
- 165
- 166
- 167
- 168
- 169
- 170
- 171
- 172
- 173
- 174
- 175
- 176
- 177
- »
Page 130 of 177