The HMS STFU - Post a comment
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April 1st, 2006
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| [Since the chapters are being scattered around by my procrastination, I'm making a post on my journal to collect 'em all link-wise. You can find that here.] So, in honor of the date, I was going to try to do the whole sporking in the tone of a ZOMG CONVERTED HARMONIAN!!!!1, but nausea got the better of me. The thing is, this chapter really is just one long porny sex scene, with absolutely no relation to reality or actual teenagers or canon or characterizations. Harry and Hermione have some disturbing conversation, decide that they're engaged, he licks her snoo-snoo place, and then they do the nasty. That's it. Seriously. That's the whole chapter. There aren't a whole lot of ways to recap "Then, he licks her asshole." [Note: he doesn't, really, but I'd give kinsfire serious kink points if he did.] I mean, that's pretty much it. Tongue, asshole, lick. So what with it being April Fool's and all, I'm just tossing sanity right out the window. If kinsfire doesn't have to respect JKR's canon, I can rape his, right? Previously, on Family Matters, not that it matters, as the plot has gone on hiatus: - Dursleys abuse Harry - Harry bails on Dursleys - Grangers rescue Harry - Harry moves in with Grangers - Mrs. Granger LOOKS LIKE HERMIONE'S OLDER SISTER [hint hint hint] - Harry has a long tearful convo with Mrs. Granger which gives him a woody - Hermione eavesdrops, confesses her woobie love, and announces that they should go back to the hotel and fuck - Mrs. Granger thinks this is an awesome idea, LOLZ!!! ... no, really. All of that happened. But from here on out, anything goes. Blockquotes are still actual real word-for-word quotes. Everything else - well. Let's just say I'm paraphrasing. CHAPTER FIVE Harry and Hermione fight off the dangerous Squid People of the outlying beach area with their photon laser guns and find their way back to the hotel room, using a map, some spaghetti sauce, and Oil of Olay. Hermione was grazed by a few Tentacle Beams, so she performs the ancient alien healing rite of D'anai Tiksay, or, Taking One's Bikini Top Off. Problem solved! "You'll need to get used to this, Harry. My family is clothing optional. If you're going to be living with us, you'll see me, Mom, and Dad in the nude occasionally. We've tended to stay dressed for you." When the Grangers host dinner parties, do they write that on the invitations? "Clothing optional"? And if so, does that mean that showing up in lingerie actually counts as being overdressed? “Besides, back in the hospital, you wanted to peel me out of my top so that you could gaze longingly at my perfect breasts, I think you said?” Hermione's mother used to be a deaf-mute, but Hermione cured her at age four by turning the 47th digit of pi into an artificial hearing device. Harry, on the other hand, is still suffering the effects of his recent lobotomy. Harry sighs and announces that staying in the Granger house is going to be hellish for him. "Not only am I in love with you but …" He motioned at her body, and all he could do was finally motion in an hourglass manner. That's right. He is, in fact, allergic to time-turners. "I want to make love to you, Hermione. I want to caress your body with my oafish hands. I want to pretend I'm a baby at those sexy nipples of yours, and someday I want to get practice at planting a baby between your absolutely magnificent legs." Petunia always let him play "Suck the Nipple and Rub the Wet Thing" when he was a toddler, and he's missed it ever since she stopped. The "planting a baby" comment is so horrific that I can't even take it somewhere funny. Harry begins rambling about how he wants to lick her up and down, 'till she says STOP!, and says she's even hotter than Fleur or Cho, although possibly only tied with their love-child, Ms. Carla Xiang. Yes, they are attractive, but as I told your mother out on the beach, your real beauty is in here,” he replied, tapping his chest. Her real beauty is a rare and exquisite jewel found only in the mines of Madagascar, which he has been hiding in his rib cage for safe-keeping. "I don't care what the rest of the world says. The woman I love is a living goddess." As opposed to a dead goddess, because dead goddesses are a pain in the ass. They just stink up the room, and then the police start asking nosy questions, like "Why are all these bodies in your living room?" and "Hey, what are you doing with that axe?" and next thing you know, you've made shish-kebabs out of the Mayor. Mmmm. Mayor-kebabs. "I refuse to hide my feelings from you anymore. I love you, Hermione Pot … Granger.” He caught himself just in time before calling her a pothead. Look, she just tokes recreationally. She can give it up any time. She smiled, walked over to him and sat on his lap in the chair, pressing his erection between them. Presumably his spare. Because of their time in Mongolia, Harry actually has a detachable penis, so he's been collecting varieties to swap out. The kiss finally broke, and she gently rested her chin on his shoulder and whispered, "Harry, all you ask is yours. All that is mine to give is yours. You need but ask. But I insist that you ask." Red rover, red rover, let Captain Slappy come on over! "What will your parents say about it? As much as I want to make love to you; to feel you ... well, I don't even really know what it is I'm asking ... as much as I want that, I will not abuse their trust." Don't worry, Harry, Hermione says. You can always double-team me and Mom. That should make everything okay. "This is the Harry that my parents already love." Having known him for a whole week by now. "I'm on a Muggle oral contraceptive, and have been for a while." What, since she was fourteen? That's insane, why would -- oh, wait, that'd be during the Krum era. Sorry, I get it now. Let's continue! "I've have been planning to give my virginity to the man of my dreams for a while now." But with Lockhart insane and Krum back in Bulgaria, looks like it's up to you, Harry! "Situations did not allow me to jump him at the school as I had hoped might be the case, but we had every intention of bringing him on this trip." She smiled. "My mother was quite well aware of what she was suggesting when she sent us here, Harry." "Ah, what a lovely day at the beach. I brought suntan lotion, I have a trashy romance novel, and I sent my not-even-legal daughter back to the hotel to play hide-the-salami with that emo kid, what's-his-face, so I have the beach towel all to myself. Life is good!" So now, she explains that she's only going to bonk her future husband. "Are you proposing to me, Hermione?" he asked, his mouth open wide. Yet another Schooner of Lust runs to ground on the Island of Commitment, as Harry panics and tries to find a way out of this. Hey, listen, baby, he's a playa, you know? You can't just tie him down. He's got hoes in different area codes. Don't be a hata! "We still have two years to go before we're free of school, but I wish to stake my claim to you here and now. Will you marry me, Harry Potter?" As a little girl, Hermione always dreamed of how she would become engaged. On the Eiffel Tower, on Valentine's Day? Would he surprise her at a restaurant by dropping to one knee? Would she rent an airplane to stream a message across the sky - "I LOVE YOU, BE MINE FOREVER?" None of it could have compared to the exquisite delight of sitting topless on a fifteen-year-old boy's lap, ten minutes after she had kissed him for the first time, while her mother was waiting back at the beach knowing full well that they were getting naked together. How romantic!!! She couldn't wait until she told her daughters. Why, in fifteen years, maybe they'd be giving their first proposal!!! Of course, Scarhead says yes. "I love you with every fibre of my being, and can not imagine life without you." He eats a lot of Cracklin' Oat Bran, so he knows from fiber. Why, this one time, he was stopped up for three or four days, and -- oh! Sorry. Mood-killer. Of course, he resorts back to teenage boy mode five minutes later: "You have an absolutely perfect ass, Hermione." Such a poet. He pulls down her bikini bottoms and smooches her poonani. Hermione says they should go back to her room if they're going to exchange protein strings, and I'm suddenly wondering where they hell they are if not in her room. The fucking hallway? The living room? Poonani-smoochin' should not go on in semi-public areas, kiddies. The text gives us the "* * *" of "time gap here" but it's a tease. We're going straight to the shtupping. Hermione yanks off his trunks and his dick hits her right in the eye. No, really.* I could almost forgive the fic some of its more WTF moments for that priceless bit right there, but then she ruins it by slurping for a bit and calling him "my lord." Ewwwwwwwwww. *Fuckity. I double-checked this and I fucked it up. When his dick goes SPROING! it actually bounces off her chin, not her eye. So much for my attention to detail I R SMRT! Sorry, folks. Also, kinsfire no longer has any cool points with me. Apparently it puts Harry off his stride, too, because he reaches down and plays tonsil hockey for a bit and squeezes at her boobs instead of, y'know, letting the girl suck you off. Hello, dumbass. He tentatively put his hand on her breast, and she broke the kiss. He started to remove his hand, but she captured it and pressed it more firmly to her breast. "You can be firm, Harry. I'll tell you if you hurt me." Since they want to play Mistress of Pain later, they decide their safe word is "exigent." Unfortunately, in a moment of terror, Harry blanks out on the safe word and yells, "Expedia!" Hermione, believing him to be cheating on her with an online travel site, chokes him even harder, and he passes right out. [/all of this is totally BS] He stares at her in awe - NAKED GIRL! - and huggles her. "Will you teach me to give you pleasure, Hermione?" At this point, I would safeword-out of the scene and go find a man with actual, real balls, as Harry's seem to have shriveled up and moved into his spleen. They refuse to come back out. The spleen actually has some of the body's nicest real estate, and the beachfront house they have is rent-controlled. She pulls him up on the bed and they're going to get to the muff diving, but first Harry spends a couple of paragraphs sucking at the nipples like he said earlier that he wanted to, and Hermione has a fucking orgasm. "Wow," she breathed. "I've never come from playing with my nipples before!" Now would be a good time to remind everyone that the author is, indeed, male. Oh, wait, I think we just did. Apparently, Hermione wanted to get the faking started early, to keep his confidence level up. Somehow, this leads into her discussing how nice it will be to Share Her Life with him. "I want to wake up next to you, Harry. I want to sit in a drawing room with you, doing nothing but reading while you smile at me and read your paper. I want to argue with you so that we can have fun making up." Kinsfire! You traitor! HAPPY COUPLES DO NOT FIGHT. Harry and Hermione do not fight. Only skanky, low, stupid and abusive people like the Weasleys fight with their spouses. You cheap lying VOMITer SLUT! I'm so hurt. I don't think I can go on. My worldview has been shattered. I need to play some Fallout Boy and cut myself. Maybe write some shitty poetry: u said that ppl dint fight if they loved each other but u lied i bet u r a h0r liar I think I'll title it, "Disillusionment: Despair, My Pain, My Razor." Speaking of razors, turns out Hermione's clam has no beard. She mentions bikinis, which doesn't explain why she didn't leave a happy little landing strip like all those emaciated chicks in porno movies. Harry proceeds to eat out at the Y - rimshot! - and instead of going for, y'know, THE CLITORIS, like a sane person, or sitting there poking at things going "What is all this anyway?" like your average teenage boy faced with his first coochie-snorcher, he decides to tongue-fuck her. Which is all well and good, until he starts pounding her G-spot with his tongue. Somewhere around here is supposed to be someplace that will drive her crazy if I … She bucked upwards as he found a small nub. Aha! I know, "nub" makes it sound like he's going for the clit, but I assure you, his tongue is firmly entranched in GrangerLand. Apparently, Harry is Gene fucking Simmons. Hermione, glad to be meeting the God of Thunder up close and personally, shoves his face in it and rides the prehensile tongue to a whopper of an orgasm. He detaches when he can't breathe - ahahahahahahaha, yeah right, not with the Thighs of Almost-There-Ness clamped around his ears, he doesn't. Lick towards the light, Harry! Hermione zonks out, hard, and then resurfaces to see Harry grinning. "Two things. First - who taught you how to do that? Second - why are you grinning so widely?" "Well, Hermione, since you asked ... Uncle Vernon showed me, because he didn't want to have to go down on Aunt Petunia during her period, and I'm a pretty quick learner. I mean, when you're french-kissing Aunt Flo, you learn how to get someone off quick. And I'm grinning because I bet Ron $20 that you're a moaner and not a screamer. Win!" Actually, Harry's just happy that he did something right. And Hermione squees. "Oh, the fan club is going to be so jealous. He's all mine, and he's got a tongue to turn a woman into his sex slave!" Holy shit, he is Gene Simmons! Gene! Gene, put me in your photo album! He blinked. "Sex slave? Fan club?" he finally squeaked. It's called the KISS Army, Gene. Hermione's a hardcore fan. She does the Ace Frehley face paint like a pro. Sure, she says. You have a fan club, which I would totally be a member of since we left canon bloodied and gang-raped by the side of the road twelve miles ago anyway. And I want to be your sex slave, Mr. Simmons. Well then, Gene asks, can we bump uglies? She looked at him, and he realized that he was going to have to say it. "I want to be inside you, Hermione. I want us to be one. Please." Po-tay-to, po-tah-to. Hermione wants to ride him like a cowgirl, so she climbs on top and informs him that the throbbing he feels is her heartbeat, le sigh, which is a far more romantic explanation than "I got some mad Kegel skills." When the kiss broke, she whispered, "You kiss wonderfully, no matter which pair of lips." She paused and licked her lips, musing. "Did you have tuna salad for lunch? Yum!" OH YEAH, I WENT THERE, BITCHES. Hermione then wriggles around until his "erection" is against her "opening," because she's got an art show that starts next week, and not because the auther can't find real terms that'll describe body parts without breaking the mooooood. She began to slide back down his body, making the both of them shiver from the delicious sensations flowing through them both. "Oh my God, it's even better than when I use a vibrator," she gasped. Sure, the Grangers give one another sex toys for Christmas gifts. Hermione got her dildo when she was eight or so. Didn't know what it was for back then, so she just put a doll dress on it and painted a mustache on its face and called it Senor Floogmyer. He wants to stop if he's hurting her, baby, and she's all Duh, I'm fine, and keeps bonking away. Oooh, he's so big, she purrs - hey, good to know Gene's penaynay keeps pace with his tongue - but she can take it all. (Anyone else thinking about that dirty joke with the mouse and the elephant? Just me?) "Oh my god I love you, Hermione," he gasped. It sounded almost like a sob, and she could see the tears in his eyes. "What did I do to deserve you?" Then, he blew his load, because it had been thirty seconds, and what do you expect from a first-timer, anyway? Luckily, Hermione fakes it again anyway. Isn't that what love is all about? Friendship, toast, tea cups, Senor Floogmyer, Gene Simmons, and sharing your boyfriend with your mom? I'm glowing all over just thinking about it. And just in time, because as you've probably guessed, we have indeed reached (for now) Except for this week's edition of Fun with Footnotes! Here's an actual, real quote from kinsfire: Ah, I see I need to make it a little clearer. I'm not stating that she's the most beautiful witch in the world. I'm saying that, in Harry's eyes, she is the smartest, sexiest and most beautiful witch in the world. important difference there. Ooooooh, I get it! He's saying that, in a first-person limited perspective piece, the protagonist is an unreliable narrator. If he fell in love with a girl, she would of course suddenly be portrayed in the work as the smartest, prettiest, funniest being on the face of the Earth. This wouldn't be a sign of Mary Sue-ism, but rather a reflection of the fact that love gives you big pink rose-tinted glasses. Damn, that sounds so familiar! Where the fuck have I heard that before? I guess it'll come to me sooner or later. |
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The HMS STFU - Post a comment
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