Re: List Of Why He/She Shouldn't NOT Fuck Harry Till He Begs For It
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luciazephyr
2011-02-18 06:24 am (UTC)(link)
Oh my god this is fucking hilarious, authoranon. :laughs forever and ever: I love Marcone's and Murphy's. And the fact that EVERYONE has a list about why fucking Harry is a bad idea. And the oddly meta-thing about why everyone wants to jump him. Because it's so true.
Excellent job. :raucous applause:
Excellent job. :raucous applause:
Re: List Of Why He/She Shouldn't NOT Fuck Harry Till He Begs For It
(Anonymous) 2011-02-18 06:36 am (UTC)(link)So good and funny.
There is a *reason* why Rule Number 2 is around. Breaking the rules is still breaking the rules.
Nonnie, if you are wanting to preserve kinkmeme harmony, I would advise that you stop attempting to also break Rule # 2.
Nonnie, if you are wanting to preserve kinkmeme harmony, I would advise that you stop attempting to also break Rule # 2.
Re: List Of Why He/She Shouldn't NOT Fuck Harry Till He Begs For It
scribe_protra
2011-02-18 07:15 am (UTC)(link)
This is made entirely out of win, hilarity, and awesome
You did a good job...loved the reactions of Murphy and Hendricks and the batman list Mata Hari was priceless..and interesting it was Harry's idea...
I would like to see some Harry/Marcome where Maggie (preferably not over the age of twelve) is very much Marcone's little girl, with all that this implies. Show me everything.
Do you mind if I turn it into Pride and Prejudice?
That's a very good fic, but I'm really not familar with the tv-verse, so I would really like to see a book verse version.
Also cause of the addition of Elaine and the mutual rape-by-proxy thing going on as well.
Is that a good way to describe it? rape-by-proxy?
Also cause of the addition of Elaine and the mutual rape-by-proxy thing going on as well.
Is that a good way to describe it? rape-by-proxy?
I get the feeling she would have given Maggie to the Carpenters.
Mac/Dresden Kink:whatever writer wants
Mac is the owner of McAnally's bar. Neutral terrority for the supernatural and vanilla mortals.
Harry's the new Winter Knight who currently doesn't have anywhere to live after his apartment blew up and is still quite tramatized by everything that has happened.
Mac is Harry's friend. He offers Harry to work and live with him until he gets back on his feet.
Mac is the owner of McAnally's bar. Neutral terrority for the supernatural and vanilla mortals.
Harry's the new Winter Knight who currently doesn't have anywhere to live after his apartment blew up and is still quite tramatized by everything that has happened.
Mac is Harry's friend. He offers Harry to work and live with him until he gets back on his feet.
Re: List Of Why He/She Shouldn't NOT Fuck Harry Till He Begs For It
qem_chibati
2011-02-18 08:09 am (UTC)(link)
Hee!
Clever, I really liked this!
Clever, I really liked this!
Re: List Of Why He/She Shouldn't NOT Fuck Harry Till He Begs For It
samjohnsson
2011-02-18 08:13 am (UTC)(link)
BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
*breathes*
Author, I have so much love for you for this! You have apparently given lots of thought about everyone's reasons. And I *adore* the turn at the end!
*breathes*
Author, I have so much love for you for this! You have apparently given lots of thought about everyone's reasons. And I *adore* the turn at the end!
Molly is all grown up and proves it thoroughly.
Sanya isn't sure what to do other than hide from Charity.
Sanya isn't sure what to do other than hide from Charity.
Okay, I am now terribly interested in seeing what happens next and what Lashiel told Nickey.
not the op, or even the other anon, but OH MY GOD, PRIDE AND PREJUDICE AU YES.
(bonus if it's pride and prejudice and zombies, but i only say this because i'm reading it with great joy right now)
(bonus if it's pride and prejudice and zombies, but i only say this because i'm reading it with great joy right now)
Re: List Of Why He/She Shouldn't NOT Fuck Harry Till He Begs For It
(Anonymous) 2011-02-18 12:06 pm (UTC)(link)ZOMG YAY <3, <3 <3
Oh *Ivy* <3. Navigating adolescence with a full awareness of the theory of what's happeningg to you not actually making it any easier.
I cackled at there is just something about Dresden - Kincaid thinks it's the whole mouthy bottom thing he's got going on, he's practically daring everybody he meets to try to bring him to heel. Explains so much!
I cackled at there is just something about Dresden - Kincaid thinks it's the whole mouthy bottom thing he's got going on, he's practically daring everybody he meets to try to bring him to heel. Explains so much!
Re: List Of Why He/She Should NOT Fuck Harry Till He Begs For It
(Anonymous) 2011-02-18 12:53 pm (UTC)(link)BRB LOLing forever. I would quote the best bits, but best is relative, and there's just too much to choose from.
...OK, no, I'ma have to go with the last line. It manages to be both hilarious and a little bit hurty at the same time.
...OK, no, I'ma have to go with the last line. It manages to be both hilarious and a little bit hurty at the same time.
My understanding of Harry’s life, and especially the years before Storm Front, is fuzzy at best. Take inconsistencies as Nick’s memory playing tricks on him, if you like, or Harry lying about his age at any point in the series/this story.
+
Normally, I could treat my kid apprentice like just that. A kid, an employee, sometimes a friend. Dresden had a good heart.
Tonight was different. We'd been staking out this bar, hoping the deadbeat dad of our latest missing kid case would show at his usual watering hole. It was a young joint, so I sent Harry in with a few bucks and a fake ID and told him not to drink anything on the job.
He came out less than an hour later, clinging to someone’s shoulders and singing, loudly and off-key. Whoever was helping him out of the bar kept trying to shut him up.
I know what an abduction looks like, and this had all the hallmarks of turning into one. Especially since Dresden couldn’t possibly be both disobedient and that much of a lightweight. I came up on the stranger’s other side, sweeping his legs from under him. A miscalculation - I just felled Dresden on top of both of us. More than six and a half feet of gawky youth giggled and fumbled and rolled off of me.
Dresden distracting the guy gave me the time to pin him properly, so some good came of it.
“What did you give him?” I rounded on the stranger, pissed off. Dresden might be all kinds of useless, especially with technology, but he was mine - I mean, he was my apprentice. My problem, my charge, whatever. I wasn’t going to let someoneelse walk off and do unspeakable things to him.
“He’s just drunk, man,” the guy said, hands up in surrender.
“Bullshit. What was he drinking?”
He babbled. I slapped him.
“What did you give him, dipshit?”
The guy swallowed. “He just looked like he needed to lighten up - “
“My left nut he did. You didn’t think anyone was gonna notice if you drugged someone who was drinking some goddamn water? He can’t even fucking walk.”
“Jesus, you can fucking take him, then! Just let me go!”
I picked his pocket and let him up, concealing his wallet. “Sure.” I might report him to the police in the morning. It depended how Harry felt after this ordeal. The guy ran - apparently his name was Anton Vasiliev. Anton would probably get a nasty lecture one way or another, before he got t his wallet back. If he got this wallet back. I could be a prick sometimes.
I gave up on getting the deadbeat dad tonight and struggled to fold Dresden into his Beetle. I’d drive him home and take a taxi back to my car. Simple enough, right? Except he giggled and swatted my hands when I tried to search him for the keys.
“Do not make me hot-wire your car. I don’t know how, it’ll probably never run the same if I try,” I told him.
“You can’t drive my car. ‘S not fair. Never let me drive your car.”
“Because you barely have a goddamn license and you’re hell on any kind of machinery, Dresden. Come on. We know this already,” I said impatiently. “Where are your keys?”
“I can drive home by mysellllllf,” he pouted.
“You really, really can’t. Dresden. Where are your goddamn keys?”
“God probably does hate my car. God hates me, why wouldn’t he hate my car?” he pouted even more.
“I do not have time for this,” I muttered. I patted down his duster - nothing. He just giggled at me. “You would keep them in your pants,” I said, unsurprised but irritated all the same. I was at completely the wrong angle to be investigating the front pockets of his pants, but I did it anyway, with him moving lewdly against me the whole time.
Okay, not all that lewdly. I just haven’t been laid in a while.
“Niiiiiiick why don’t you ever call me ‘Harry?’” he asked, eyes wide, pupils blown with the drug.
Because it would mean admitting I’d let someone in. I’d never had a secretary last more than a week. Dresden had battled furiously with me until I agreed to mentor him for licensure. This colossal tornado had swept through my offices and created a...not quite system, and certainly not one of organization. But we found things easily enough, and it ended up where we expected it to be. He wasn’t half-bad at answering phones, barring the static problem. I had engaged in my usual practice of testing “the help” with relatively mild sexual harassment, increasing in intensity.
I do this to see how they would react to an abrasive, sexually confrontational, or irritating client. Few of them see it that way.
Dresden, bless his heart, didn’t even notice. At first I thought he just had hetero-blinders on, but some lonely moms had hit on him over the course of our working relationship already. He didn’t notice them, either. It seemed to be a very selective blindspot, at least - when he wasn’t involved in the chemistry, he picked up on flirtation right away, or most other emotional undercurrents to human interactions.
I gave up on flirting with him and decided my dense apprentice was a keeper, but that didn’t mean I had to like him.
Except I did. I liked him a lot. He was funny, he was smart, he was nerdy and he was so charmingly innocent and heart-breakingly world-weary at the same time. I don’t know what his guardians had done to him to make him expect only cruelty or neglect from anyone in a position of power over him, but the way he flinched when I yelled spoke volumes, especially considering how much larger than me he was.
Well. Taller. I probably had a solid 50-80 pounds on him.
“Niiiiiick you didn’t answer meeeeee,” he whined, clinging to my jacket. I brushed his hands off gently.
“You never said I could call you ‘Harry,’” I shrugged. It was true enough. He wouldn’t remember this in the morning, so it didn’t really matter what I said now.
That took a minute to sink in. I swallowed. I could tell him anything, do anything to him, and with that drug in his system, he wouldn’t even know. It was so deeply wrong to want, but - hell. He was smart and sexy in the way only people completely unaware of their good looks can be sexy. He dressed like a cry for help, but so did I, most days. And I’d seen most of what was under the ill-fitting, cheap clothes, one way or another.
“It’s cold out here,” he sulked. I tried again to press him into the car. His legs finally folded right and I got the belt on him.
“I’ll take you to a warm place, okay?” I told him.
He went through the motions of driving when I got behind the wheel. It was kind of cute. He stomped the floor impatiently when I slowed down for traffic signals.
Then he stopped driving with an invisible steering wheel and pedals, and started touching me. His hand trailed over my thigh curiously. “Muscley,” he mused.
“Yeah. That’s what happens when you spend a dozen years running down people who really don’t want to be found.”
“Mmmm, ‘snice.” His hand skated higher abruptly, and I almost veered into a building.
“Whoawhoawhoa,” I shoved his hand away. “I’m driving, kid, let me focus on not getting us both killed.” Dresden mumbled something and dove for my crotch again.
“Dresden. Not. Now,” I said firmly. He tilted his head.
“Later?”
“Sure, later, whatever you want. Not when I’m driving!” I kept telling myself that, using my need to concentrate as a shield against thinking about what Dresden touching me actually meant, or about my own inclination to take advantage of his pliable, likely forgetful, state.
I reminded myself that I wanted to be better to him than the people who had already mistreated him in his short life, not another on a long list who betrayed his trust in them. Whether he was aware of the betrayal or not, I would know.
He nuzzled my shoulder, still muttering quietly.
I got us to his place without too much incident. It was a little shithole, really, but the kid had saved everything he could to buy the P.o.S. Beetle he drove, and I couldn’t pay him a hell of a lot, anyway. He’d done odd jobs before he ended up with me, and continued to work some of them on the side, for the extra money.
Harry hadn’t wanted to get in the car, hadn’t wanted to let me drive, and now he didn’t want to leave the car, and he certainly didn’t want to let go of me. He kissed my ear messily. It shouldn’t have been hot, it should have been sad, kind of pathetic.
The tightening of my jeans said I thought it was hot whether I was admitting it to myself or not.
“D-dresden. Let go,” I said, pulling away, trying to break free of the wandering hands and arms. I threw the car door open and half-fell out to escape. Now I had to get Dresden out and into his apartment. I could, you know, tuck him in or whatever. I’d leave his clothes on, just not his shoes. You know. Didn’t seem fair to leave him on the couch, that’s all, since he got drugged on the job. I should take care of him.
I couldn’t even convince myself that I didn’t want to bone him, and it was taking considerable willpower to remind myself why I shouldn’t bone him. The list I was coming up with was painfully short: He’s a subordinate, you’re dead meat if he remembers...
That was it. And the first was sounding less and less like a disincentive and more like a new kink. The second was also less and less convincing.
The apartment key wasn’t too hard to find, on Dresden’s keyring. I was glad I didn’t have to search his pockets again. He leaned heavily on me, arms wrapped around my waist, face nuzzling into my neck, where he was nibbling and kissing and making a nuisance of himself. God I was so hard, and he sounded so horny and desperate for it.
I got the door open and he was herding me to the couch as we tumbled inside, his hands everywhere, trying to get my pants open.
“Dresdennnn...no, kid, we can’t,” I said desperately.
“You said ‘later.’ It’s later. You said ‘whatever you want.’ This is what I want.”
“It’s what you want strung out on date-rape drugs. It’s not what you’ll want tomorrow,” I said, frustrated. I couldn’t believe I was talking him out of this.
+
Normally, I could treat my kid apprentice like just that. A kid, an employee, sometimes a friend. Dresden had a good heart.
Tonight was different. We'd been staking out this bar, hoping the deadbeat dad of our latest missing kid case would show at his usual watering hole. It was a young joint, so I sent Harry in with a few bucks and a fake ID and told him not to drink anything on the job.
He came out less than an hour later, clinging to someone’s shoulders and singing, loudly and off-key. Whoever was helping him out of the bar kept trying to shut him up.
I know what an abduction looks like, and this had all the hallmarks of turning into one. Especially since Dresden couldn’t possibly be both disobedient and that much of a lightweight. I came up on the stranger’s other side, sweeping his legs from under him. A miscalculation - I just felled Dresden on top of both of us. More than six and a half feet of gawky youth giggled and fumbled and rolled off of me.
Dresden distracting the guy gave me the time to pin him properly, so some good came of it.
“What did you give him?” I rounded on the stranger, pissed off. Dresden might be all kinds of useless, especially with technology, but he was mine - I mean, he was my apprentice. My problem, my charge, whatever. I wasn’t going to let someone
“He’s just drunk, man,” the guy said, hands up in surrender.
“Bullshit. What was he drinking?”
He babbled. I slapped him.
“What did you give him, dipshit?”
The guy swallowed. “He just looked like he needed to lighten up - “
“My left nut he did. You didn’t think anyone was gonna notice if you drugged someone who was drinking some goddamn water? He can’t even fucking walk.”
“Jesus, you can fucking take him, then! Just let me go!”
I picked his pocket and let him up, concealing his wallet. “Sure.” I might report him to the police in the morning. It depended how Harry felt after this ordeal. The guy ran - apparently his name was Anton Vasiliev. Anton would probably get a nasty lecture one way or another, before he got t his wallet back. If he got this wallet back. I could be a prick sometimes.
I gave up on getting the deadbeat dad tonight and struggled to fold Dresden into his Beetle. I’d drive him home and take a taxi back to my car. Simple enough, right? Except he giggled and swatted my hands when I tried to search him for the keys.
“Do not make me hot-wire your car. I don’t know how, it’ll probably never run the same if I try,” I told him.
“You can’t drive my car. ‘S not fair. Never let me drive your car.”
“Because you barely have a goddamn license and you’re hell on any kind of machinery, Dresden. Come on. We know this already,” I said impatiently. “Where are your keys?”
“I can drive home by mysellllllf,” he pouted.
“You really, really can’t. Dresden. Where are your goddamn keys?”
“God probably does hate my car. God hates me, why wouldn’t he hate my car?” he pouted even more.
“I do not have time for this,” I muttered. I patted down his duster - nothing. He just giggled at me. “You would keep them in your pants,” I said, unsurprised but irritated all the same. I was at completely the wrong angle to be investigating the front pockets of his pants, but I did it anyway, with him moving lewdly against me the whole time.
Okay, not all that lewdly. I just haven’t been laid in a while.
“Niiiiiiick why don’t you ever call me ‘Harry?’” he asked, eyes wide, pupils blown with the drug.
Because it would mean admitting I’d let someone in. I’d never had a secretary last more than a week. Dresden had battled furiously with me until I agreed to mentor him for licensure. This colossal tornado had swept through my offices and created a...not quite system, and certainly not one of organization. But we found things easily enough, and it ended up where we expected it to be. He wasn’t half-bad at answering phones, barring the static problem. I had engaged in my usual practice of testing “the help” with relatively mild sexual harassment, increasing in intensity.
I do this to see how they would react to an abrasive, sexually confrontational, or irritating client. Few of them see it that way.
Dresden, bless his heart, didn’t even notice. At first I thought he just had hetero-blinders on, but some lonely moms had hit on him over the course of our working relationship already. He didn’t notice them, either. It seemed to be a very selective blindspot, at least - when he wasn’t involved in the chemistry, he picked up on flirtation right away, or most other emotional undercurrents to human interactions.
I gave up on flirting with him and decided my dense apprentice was a keeper, but that didn’t mean I had to like him.
Except I did. I liked him a lot. He was funny, he was smart, he was nerdy and he was so charmingly innocent and heart-breakingly world-weary at the same time. I don’t know what his guardians had done to him to make him expect only cruelty or neglect from anyone in a position of power over him, but the way he flinched when I yelled spoke volumes, especially considering how much larger than me he was.
Well. Taller. I probably had a solid 50-80 pounds on him.
“Niiiiiick you didn’t answer meeeeee,” he whined, clinging to my jacket. I brushed his hands off gently.
“You never said I could call you ‘Harry,’” I shrugged. It was true enough. He wouldn’t remember this in the morning, so it didn’t really matter what I said now.
That took a minute to sink in. I swallowed. I could tell him anything, do anything to him, and with that drug in his system, he wouldn’t even know. It was so deeply wrong to want, but - hell. He was smart and sexy in the way only people completely unaware of their good looks can be sexy. He dressed like a cry for help, but so did I, most days. And I’d seen most of what was under the ill-fitting, cheap clothes, one way or another.
“It’s cold out here,” he sulked. I tried again to press him into the car. His legs finally folded right and I got the belt on him.
“I’ll take you to a warm place, okay?” I told him.
He went through the motions of driving when I got behind the wheel. It was kind of cute. He stomped the floor impatiently when I slowed down for traffic signals.
Then he stopped driving with an invisible steering wheel and pedals, and started touching me. His hand trailed over my thigh curiously. “Muscley,” he mused.
“Yeah. That’s what happens when you spend a dozen years running down people who really don’t want to be found.”
“Mmmm, ‘snice.” His hand skated higher abruptly, and I almost veered into a building.
“Whoawhoawhoa,” I shoved his hand away. “I’m driving, kid, let me focus on not getting us both killed.” Dresden mumbled something and dove for my crotch again.
“Dresden. Not. Now,” I said firmly. He tilted his head.
“Later?”
“Sure, later, whatever you want. Not when I’m driving!” I kept telling myself that, using my need to concentrate as a shield against thinking about what Dresden touching me actually meant, or about my own inclination to take advantage of his pliable, likely forgetful, state.
I reminded myself that I wanted to be better to him than the people who had already mistreated him in his short life, not another on a long list who betrayed his trust in them. Whether he was aware of the betrayal or not, I would know.
He nuzzled my shoulder, still muttering quietly.
I got us to his place without too much incident. It was a little shithole, really, but the kid had saved everything he could to buy the P.o.S. Beetle he drove, and I couldn’t pay him a hell of a lot, anyway. He’d done odd jobs before he ended up with me, and continued to work some of them on the side, for the extra money.
Harry hadn’t wanted to get in the car, hadn’t wanted to let me drive, and now he didn’t want to leave the car, and he certainly didn’t want to let go of me. He kissed my ear messily. It shouldn’t have been hot, it should have been sad, kind of pathetic.
The tightening of my jeans said I thought it was hot whether I was admitting it to myself or not.
“D-dresden. Let go,” I said, pulling away, trying to break free of the wandering hands and arms. I threw the car door open and half-fell out to escape. Now I had to get Dresden out and into his apartment. I could, you know, tuck him in or whatever. I’d leave his clothes on, just not his shoes. You know. Didn’t seem fair to leave him on the couch, that’s all, since he got drugged on the job. I should take care of him.
I couldn’t even convince myself that I didn’t want to bone him, and it was taking considerable willpower to remind myself why I shouldn’t bone him. The list I was coming up with was painfully short: He’s a subordinate, you’re dead meat if he remembers...
That was it. And the first was sounding less and less like a disincentive and more like a new kink. The second was also less and less convincing.
The apartment key wasn’t too hard to find, on Dresden’s keyring. I was glad I didn’t have to search his pockets again. He leaned heavily on me, arms wrapped around my waist, face nuzzling into my neck, where he was nibbling and kissing and making a nuisance of himself. God I was so hard, and he sounded so horny and desperate for it.
I got the door open and he was herding me to the couch as we tumbled inside, his hands everywhere, trying to get my pants open.
“Dresdennnn...no, kid, we can’t,” I said desperately.
“You said ‘later.’ It’s later. You said ‘whatever you want.’ This is what I want.”
“It’s what you want strung out on date-rape drugs. It’s not what you’ll want tomorrow,” I said, frustrated. I couldn’t believe I was talking him out of this.
That's OK, writernon :) It's just that Nietzsche's awesomeness lies in questioning and critiquing the prevailing ideas of 'truth'. So for a given value of truth, the fact that Nietzsche was appropriated by the Nazis and understood as a fascist thinker are all true. Nietzsche's one dictum is to problematise and historicise each of these interpretations so that no one of them is understood as the whole truth.
So it kiiind of goes against Nietzsche's own ideas for the professor to say interpretations align with the truth.
You're really awesome for having picked him. :D
just finished reading On the Genealogy of Morality, still reeling from the brilliance.
So it kiiind of goes against Nietzsche's own ideas for the professor to say interpretations align with the truth.
You're really awesome for having picked him. :D
just finished reading On the Genealogy of Morality, still reeling from the brilliance.
Aurora/Lily
Nude modeling shenanigans? Or maybe something dark and twisted where Aurora, um, initiates Lily as Summer Knight and then turns her into a statue?
NEED MOAR FEMSLASH
Nude modeling shenanigans? Or maybe something dark and twisted where Aurora, um, initiates Lily as Summer Knight and then turns her into a statue?
NEED MOAR FEMSLASH
holy crap, this is great. I always love an outsider's POV of Dresden. Moar?
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