I have always relied upon the kindness of strangers...

I've decided to take the nonsense notes that are stored on my iPod and turn them into little clippits of scenes in an attempt to get some creative juices flowing...
Also,

=== Since discovering cable television, Draco had become obsessed with it's many channels and veiwing options. Harry found it routine to return home from the office and find the blond fixated on the screen, taking notes and ignoring his presence.
Harry was not about to complain however, as it was simply a matter of personal choice and a habit that was of minor convinience to others; Harry liked to donate staggering amounts of money to charities. Draco liked to watch porn like a soap opera.
It was all relative really.===
=
=== "Harry dance with me," Draco demanded, holding out one hand and placing his champagne flute onto the table, where Ron, Hermione and Ginny sat, with the other.
Harry snorted, "not happening", and sat down with the others.
Draco fumed for a moment or so, casting a beady eye around.
"Granger." He sharply called.
Hermione smiled patiently, "I'm a Weasley now, Draco." Ron gave her a pleased look which she returned with interest.
Draco rolled his eyes, "don't let it get you down" he said with a hint of pity. "Dance with me."===
=
===Draco had found a comfort in wearing shorts to wander about the house in, on mornings. He would emerge from the room, stretching and yawning blearily, lean on the kitchen doorframe for a moment or so to gather his bearings, and move to the table and demand breakfast.
Harry liked to take advantage of Draco's distracted routine to secretly shrink his shorts by a centimetre each morning. What had started out as a bid to expose more flesh had turned into everyday routine, Harry was interested on just HOW short he could make Draco's shorts before the blond noticed and all hell was let loose.
It wasn't that Harry didn't often see Draco naked, it was just that he didn't see him naked ENOUGH.===
=
===Every now and then, Harry's job took him on trips and overseas meetings that would keep him from returning home for days. He had returned, on one occasion, after a grueling week spent in Paris at an endless board-meeting, one day later than expected and rushed up the steps to their house and knocked on the door loudly and anxiously.
He had missed Draco immensely, and so bought him a mountain of presents during his free time to set things right.
He was just bouncing eagerly on the step--- WAIT, THIS STORY DOESN'T WORK T_____T I SPOILT IT....===
=
oh that's put me off it all now :/....
how rubbish!!

He had freckles. Good for him.

I'm at a loss. A serious loss!
Drop Dead Gorgeous has officially finished so...what do I do now?
Just to elaborate, DDG (one of THE greatest HD fics) written by Mistful has just been concluded on livejournal. It was so perfect, I'm just...empty XD.
I should be jumping for joy -MOUNTAINS ARE CLEARED!- but I'm kinda all 'oh...oh man, now I have to find something else to read...'
I would put up a link, but the fic is going to be taken down within a couple of days (T___T), I'll just have to ensure that I pick up the PDF file before it's too late!
So yeah, DDG= absolutely stunning and tastily gorgeous *drool*.
It's up there in my top five.
I think it reaches number 2 at least...at the VERY least (consults bebo).
So I spent the last hour or so consulting Bebo, and found that my top 5 is more of a top 4...beacuase I'm indecisive and can't bring myself to make a final decision.
1. The Loft
2. Drop Dead Gorgeous (link is invalid from the 6th T___T)
3. Bond
4. Yorkshire Puddings
And I chose that 4 in particular because I can quite happily read them over and over and over again.
QUITE happily...
So, my previous post HAD been about other fanfictions, when it was innexplicably deleted! Deleted in all of it's glory! So I'm going to try to recreate it...but with difficulty.
Well, as you might be able to tell, my head is quite often filled with fanfiction of all kinds -but mostly HD-, recently much more so. Currently, in a bid to find interests OTHER than HD AU post Hogwarts...I have been cruising HP Flavoured Crack, a rec website, that is updated multiple times a day as far as I can tell, with quite a variety of fanfiction pairings -all Harry Potter though-.
Let me tell you, I have come across some new pairings, namely; AliciaKatieAngelina, HarryDracoLuna, HarryRonSeamus, HarryDeanNeville(?!?), PansyCho, ChoAngelina, PercyOliver, TeddyJamesScorpius, PercyOliverHarry, DeanSeamus and LunaGinny...
Anyway, they've all been weird and such, and I'm much too tired to elaborate eloquently so...yeah :D XD...

Boy Interupted...

A little fic (HD) that I just wrote and very much liked, even made myself laugh at the end :D.

Harry was late back from work. Not through any fault of his own of course! It was that clingy, whiney Secratary Sarah holding him back to double, triple, over-check every thought and epiphany he had ever had. It wasn't as though she couldn't do her job, quite the contrary, she was highly efficient and brought him hot drinks and pastries at every available chance. It was just her severe anxiety levels and OCD based complexes that brought her down.
Nevertheless, Harry was late, regardless of upon whom lay the blame of said lateness, and being late meant an unhappy Draco.
Very unhappy.
It was with the utmost delicacy that Harry slid his key into the lock of their apartment door and he opened it slowly, leaving himself the very minimal amount possible to slip through.
Cautiously, he slunk through the entryway, shedding his coat and toeing off his shoes with all the care and expertise of a top spy. It was as he began to edge towards the living room that he began to feel a lurking sense of unease. Something was off. There were odd sounds emerging from the room. Odd and slightly disturbing.
Pulling out his wand, Harry shifted closer and dropped carefully into a crouch, assessing the situation with the ease that had come out of the War. From what he could hear, there were three main sounds, all seemingly repetitive; the loud, reverbrating sound of a television turned up too high, an odd, high pitched shouting like someone in pain, and strange thumps and bangs. The sounds were vaguely familiar, but he couldn't quite place his finger upon why.
It was only when he reached the doorway to the Living Room that understanding bloomed within his mind and his wand was intantly pocketed. Pushing the door open carefully, a mischevious grin spread across his face. Harry knew exactly what was going on, and he wasn't about to miss this for the world.
Draco was singing.
And dancing too apparently, Harry could see him bouncing and shaking in a manner most embarassing. So embarassing that even Harry was slightly ashamed. Ashamed and amused. Draco was singing to an old pop song that he must have found on a music channel, for he was grooving in time to the woman dancing on screen.
It also appeared, that Draco had listened to this song many a time, because he was singing all of the words with a familiar gusto.Harry couldn't help it...he began to laugh, praying ferevently that the music would mask it.
"Only when I'm dancing can I feel this free. At night I lock the doors, where no one else can see..." Draco was singing, getting louder and louder, obviously caught up in wild abandon. Harry wondered whether this was his favourite song and began to laugh harder.
"I'm tired of dancing here all by myself, tonight I wanna dance with SOMEONE ELSE! GET- HARRY!" Draco suddenly clocked Harry's presence and screeched, the rapid blush on his cheeks and horrified expression betraying his mortification.
Harry collapsed altogether, howling hysterically and leaning on the door frame helplessly as the music played on loudly in the background.
Draco noticed this and leapt to switch the television off, fruitlessly attempting to regain his posture as his boyfriend slumped into a heaving pile of mirth on the floor.
"I -erm-, I made you dinner, er...it's, I think it's cold now..." he blustered, still panting a little from over-exertion and wringing his hands slightly. He stood in the middle of the carpet looking vaguely guilty and darting his eyes about to look everything, except Harry.
Harry was fighting to gain control, tears streaming freely down his shiney, red cheeks as his lifted his head from the carpet and gasped. "Could you, could you do that again, please? From the beginning? Only," he had to pause for breath as another onslaught of laughter hit, "only, I really want to see the entire performance."
Draco stiffened with an expression of murderous intent, "I swear to Merlin, Potter, if you so much as THINK about this...incident, ever again, your balls will be going in the blender!" He hissed, a threatening finger pointed at Harry who struggled with himself for a moment or so.
"If you're so tired of dancing on your own, I could always join in!" He burst out, clearly expressing his love to pour gasoline in liberal amounts onto bonfires. "Shit..." He laughed helplessly once more as Draco began to approach and figured that if these were his last moments, he might as well enjoy them.

Cocoa Beans

My latest work of art; Cocoa Beans. A fanfic that I wrote as part of my Series of Meetings (Check out my FF Profile for more info holmes! Here) it features HD (nothing new!!) and is basically a few small scenes pasted togethor to make the short, cute story of how Harry and Draco could meet in a different universe.
So, here's a little clippit of something that was highly inspired, I truly chased for this baby :D.

Admittedly Secretarial work is probably not the best job for me; after all, my seriously short attention span and careless nature have to be taken into account. However, I enjoy it immensely as I get a desk and a charge/employer of my own and the power to control who gets to see him and who doesn’t. It’s incredibly satisfying, so satisfying in fact that it keeps me coming to work consistently and on time(ish) every morning.
I especially enjoy when work becomes slow and I can spend time chatting with Gracie who brings around the sandwich cart and Jules from accounting. Both of whom provide me with enough daily gossip to last me through my 8-5 pm shift, and in return I offer them my bitchy opinions and whatever treats I have stashed in my drawer that day.
Today, however, I don’t have any sweets or cakes.
“What the hell is this?” Gracie complains, thrusting a carrot stick between our equally unhappy faces.
I grimace and attempt to avoid her eyes, “too healthy?” ‘I knew it!’ “I got stuck in the vegetable aisle in Tescos and panicked; carrots were the only trustworthy items that I emerged with.” I grumble whilst nibbling one of the offending food stuffs with deep disgust and pondering the ‘anti-calorie’.
Do they exist?
If I eat enough will they balance out a slice of chocolate fudge cake?
Gracie snorts and pops one into her mouth, obnoxiously speaking around it as she crunches. “I just don’t understand, like, why you suddenly want to lose weight.” She swallows painfully and sighs in a manner that suggests that she is disappointed in me.
“I’m sure that the man -rude as he may have been, like- wasn’t actually making any reference to your weight. Besides, you boy, are one of the skinniest people that I know!” Gracie’s voice has a distinctly Cork accent from growing up in Ireland, it is an endless irritation for me to hear as working in Birmingham already exposes me on a daily basis to an accent that grates mightily upon my nerves.
“Can we, like, put sugar on these?” Gracie asks hopefully as she braves another carrot stick with the look of one charging head first into a pit of snakes. She has soft, curly brown hair, azure eyes and round cheeks with a dusting of freckles and this girlish look often contradicts with her irritable and sharp tongued nature.
She and I get on very well.
I tut at her and absently allow my pen to wander over a piece of paper that may or may not have been important.
“Don’t tempt me,” I warn, lifting up my false glasses to admire my work.
A cat-bird on a stick.
“Abstract,” I mutter and Gracie glances at me without any real interest.
When Jake gave me the job I ran a mile with the title ‘Secretary’. I bought fake glasses, brushed up on my rumour-mill handling skills and splurged on all a manner of office supplies, most of which I have never had –and most likely will never have- any use for.
“So,” I say nonchalantly, catching Gracie’s attention. “I’ve joined a gym.” I wait for her to stop laughing before I can continue on. “I’ve met a guy.”
Gracie instantly perks up and the Carrot Stick Drama in forgiven and forgotten.
“Details?” She gasps and I smirk at her.
“Scruffy, toned, green eyed…” I sparsely supply, like a pimp drawing out the addiction of his crack whore.
Indeed this information is not enough to satisfy her. “Name?” Her hands a planted flat upon my desk and she faces me head on, expression lit up with eagerness.
“Harry,” I announce with an invisible flourish, there is no need to give his last name as it is irrelevant.
Gracie grins and winks at me, “ooh, he sounds delicious, mind sharing, like?”
I snort then throw my pen at her, “not likely you common hussy!” I grin, suddenly glad to know and have her in my life.

That wil be all!

A couple of collected chases from my LJ!

Incidently, how do I do a cut? Can I not here?! It would make my blogage so much neater T___T.
Anyway, a well known rhyme that I remembered a while back and found interesting;

~~

Monday's Child is fair of face,

Tuesday's Child is full of grace,

Wednesday's Child is filled with woe,

Thurday's Child has far to go,

Friday's Child is loving and giving,

Saturday's Child works hard for a living,

And the Child that's born on the Sabath Day is bonny and blithe and good and gay.

~~

A gorgeous rhyme, one that reeks of childhood and sitting on grass in the sunshine. It perfectly fits my mood style at the moment. Unfortunately, I happen to be a Thursday's child...which seems to fit appropriately with me :/...oh man! XD

It reminds me of the beautiful song by Will Young which definately be longer, it sound last an hour so that I don't have to keep replaying it. It's so dreamy, why isn't it more popular? Because it was Will that sang it?! Surely not!

~~

Check it out here! --> ~~Friday's Child- Will Young~~

~~

So, some mini stories and clippets that I made to amuse myself. (I'm backing up everything I can!! XD)

One particuarly risque scene that I don't know what to do with (It doesn't fit in with my fanfics!! :O)

~~

Gasping harshly, Draco turned his head to the side and was captivated by the image presented to him by the mirror on Harry's wall.

He gazed into heavily lidded eyes, grey iris conquered by pupil, that roved lazily over mussed hair, flushed cheeks and reddened lips that formed a loose 'o' shape. His shirt was trapped under him having been simply undone, pushed back and forgotten by Harry and his bare legs were crooked, clutching wantonly at Harry's sides.

The captured image of his 'coming undone' mesmerised Draco and he found that he couldn't take his eyes off of the reflection. He was intoxicated by the way that Harry's body melded into his, the other's tanned back arching down from his strong shoulder blades and back up to disappear into the waistband of his jeans. Draco watched his reflection lift a hand and trace it down Harry's spine, feeling every ridge and every tremor that Harry gave.

The other man was bracing himself upon his elbows placed either side of Draco, and his head was dipped down in order to place languid kisses on Draco's shoulder blades, neck and face. His skin glistened with sweat and the hairs curling at the nape of his neck were dampened, Draco could feel his hot breath as it drifted over him, causing fires under his skin that melted his bones.

Green eyes suddenly stabbed at him as Harry turned his head, following his sightpath, connecting their gazes and pinning Draco to the bed with the intensity of it all. The blond vaguely entertained the idea of purchasing a pensive for the sole purpose of storing this memory away, but the notion was lost almost instantly as if Harry's eyes had drowned out all conscious thought.

Draco was loathe to tear his eyes away from the mirror, almost unable even, but when he did, what he found was equally as breath-taking.

~~

I'm finished with that XD...pretty good stuff, inspired oddly enough by a scene from the modern version of the Incredible Hulk (the one with Liv Tyler), where they try to get it on but he can't incase of a sudden breakout of the Sulkster. Anyway, it's the bit where they fall back on the bed, and I must say, for an average to unattractive man, he has a pretty nice back! :O

Incidently, that's the only piece of smut that I have ever written, just for the record!

~~

Next up is a tiny story that I can't remember the origion of. It's simplicity makes me smile, so here it is; Chase fodder :D

~~

One fine day at Hogwarts, Harry Potter was waggling and waving his wand around.

Normally Harry was very good at this, so good in fact, that he tended to attract crowds of spectators and die-hard fans.

Today, however, Harry waggled his wand a bit too hard.

"Do you mind?" The ordinarily silent and complacent wand suddenly cried, "what in merlin's name do you think you're doing boy?"

Harry scowled at his wand, "are you questioning me? How dare you, I'm Harry Potter!"

In a fit of righteous rage, Harry snapped his faithful wand in half and then proceeded to cry.

~~

Another point of inspiration that I encountered a small while back was the lifelist group on livejournal (here). I joined up and wrote my own life list -to the suprising appreciation of a couple of people- and found that all of things I wish to accomplish are changing a little already...

But still, this list is inspiring and is so typically me...it's perfect :D.

Albiet a little small, maybe I should add some to it...

~

~Go to university and become a student. Go to wild parties and get discounts.
~Decide upon a career path. Hopefully one that is creative, impressive and pays well.
~Buy an apartment/studio. Decorate it wildly and hold intellectual dinner parties.
~Get a cat for said apartment/studio and allow it free reign. Either a cat or a ferret called Wally.
~Go to New York for 2 Weeks +
~Drink a Manhattan in Manhattan.
~Find the perfect pair of jeans. Bury them when they no longer fit.
~Convince the world (or anyone who will listen) that the anti-calorie exists. Be ambiguous, make scientific explanations up.
~Own a book collection large enough to crush a man to death. Lovingly name each book.
~ Read through Simon (my dictionary) from cover to cover. Memorise this for ;
~Perfect the art of the witty comeback, use impressive words such as 'discombobulate' and 'dotard'.
~Learn Japanese/Thai/Chinese/Italian/French/Russian...they are all beautiful languages...well perhaps not Chinese...
~Write a novel depicting my life in a fantastical, unbelievable manner. Perhaps a fantasy, sci-fi tale. Become a bestselling author.
~Own a bookstore/Flower shop/Coffee shop, adopt a foreign accent and become a professional People Watcher.
~Organise an underground rave.
~Visit Tokyo and Kyoto, two of the best anagrams since lemon and melon.
~Have an exhibition of work portraying life's journey. Make an installation. Wow people with kooky background music. Drink an abundance of champagne and Embarrass myself.
~Learn to play Chopin' "Fantaisie Impromptu". Evoke tears.
~Gather as many friends as I can, hold a giant picnic party.
~Go to Glastonbury.

Sounds perfect to me! :D

A little unedited clippit

"Here comes one now!" A loud voice to the right of Harry cried and all heads turned towards the entrance to Harrods.
They had been planning this for months and Harry was excited to finally be taking action.
He grinned at the overly eager boy beside him. "Ready, Collin?"
Collin bounced on his toes, beaming from ear-to-ear as he handed Harry a can of paint.
"More than ready, Harry!"
It was his first time and Harry could relate to the adrenalin that was pumping wildly throughout his body. The thrill of taking a stand and speaking out against those without sympathy and understanding was immeasurable.
Harry remembered his first time fondly as he saw the figure approaching the doors before them.
____________________________________

Draco felt incredibly pleased with himself.
He had decided to treat himself to a mountain bear-fur coat and couldn't wait to parade about on the streets. He would certainly turn heads and the prospect of all of the admiring looks and attention that he was promised had him salivating.
His full carrier bags jostled eagerly against his legs and his newly purchased coat swirled impressively against his lithe frame.
Draco looked GOOD!
He smiled merrily at the doorman as he approached the exit only to find his path blocked.
"I'm sorry, sir, but it is within your best interests to wait before leaving." The doorman apologetically explained, holding the door firmly shut.
Draco frowned, this wouldn't do! "I'm afraid I must leave immediately; mother will be waiting on me to join her for lunch and my new coat must be presented to the adoring public!"
The doorman sighed, yet another self-righteous, all important customer. They just didn't listen! "I'm SORRY, sir" he repeated forcefully. But I cannot let you out-"
"Move out of my way, doorman!" Draco cried dramatically and using his bags as a driving force, barraged his way past and threw open the doors with a dramatic flourish.
He was met by a huge crowd of screaming, blatantly unwashed people and sighed. They weren't the awe-inspired well groomed spectators that he had hoped for, but Draco was a humble and grateful mand, and he would work with the vagrants offered if he needed to.
He posted on a winning smile as he began to push through the screaming masses. Why did they all have to yell?
The sheer volume of noise was beginning to make Draco's sensitive ears ache, but he braved on, smiling and nodding at the dirty, noisy people who all seemed to be waving signs around.
Was this some sort of mad cult?
When it seemed that he wouldn't be able to advance through the crowd using his charms alone Draco began to elbow and shove.
Mother would berate him his tardiness!
"Move! Get out of my way, you damn collective of mongrels!"
They seemed to get louder, as though they were INCENSED.
A body suddenly planted itself firmly in his path.
This greatly infuriated Draco, he had somewhere to be and these jostling ingrates were making him LATE!
He stared down the man before him and yelled "excuse me!"
All of this pushing and shoving was going to ruin his coat...
The man screamed something intelligable back and Draco was about to ask him to repeat it when a can of red paint was unceramoniously thrown over him.
Over his divine, new coat.
Draco let out a howl of pain, indignation and misery. Why paint?!
"What the hell do you think you're doing?"
The man shoved a sign in his face, it bore red letters and odd pictures but Draco was in no mood to admire this man's art work.
"Do you realise how many innocent animals had to die for your disgusting caot?" Tha man cried, obnoxiously pushing his sign into Draco's nose. "We're protesting for the rights of these poor creatures!"
"Proest this!" Draco had lost his temper and pushed the placard out of the way in order to punch the other man in the face.
Admittedly, Draco had never hit anyone before in his life and found that it hurt him more than he had anticipated.
A lot more.
"Ow! Oh Christ!" He screeched, clutching his hand as his eyes watered with pain.
To add insult to injury, the other man appeared to be fine.
"We're the voice of the voiceless!" The men crowed triumphantly and the crowd cheered. Draco could hear sirens and was beginning to lose his head.
"That doesn't make sense, you raving mad plebian! You've ruined my coat!"
He grabbed his shopping bags that had been lost during the mayhem and began to swing them wildly, hitting people on all sides as he bombarded the protester.
The noise and atmosphere of his surroundings were chaotic and he bellowed insanely . People were still jostling about and when someone grabbed him from behind he freaked out.
Five minutes later he was being escorted into the back of a police car as hoards of protesters rioted, fighting with the police who were attempting to subdue them.
The office whom Draco had assulted was mopping irritably at his bloody nose and shooting dark looks at the blond.
"Will this take long? Mother will be wondering where I am." Draco whined.
"Oh no," the officer replied with a forboing tone. "Not long at all."
______________________________________

"What do you mean 'all night'?! I'm innocent, I didn't DO anything!" Draco clutched at the bars of his shared cell, filled with righteous indignation.
A vague voice floated happily over to him. "No one is truly innocent."
He scowled at the woman sitting nearby, she had been acting gormless and supplying useless input for the past hour.
"Oh, do shut up." He told her irritably from his position beside the bars.
"Leave her alone!" Unfortuantely, Draco didn't just have to share his cell with the mad hippy, but also the mad protester.
Draco chose to ignore him, "when my father arrives to collect me, you'll all be sorry...are you listening to me? Hellooo?!"
The guard approached with a scowl, and Draco was preparing to give him an earfull when the guard spotted the protester.
"Hullo, Harry!" The guard broke into a grin and Draco found the expression highly disturbing.
The coat wrecker perked up and beamed back "alright, Phillip?"
"Not bad, not bad" Phillip responded jovially, "back again I see?"
"Couldn't keep away!" Harry joked and the hippy laughed airily.
Draco felt sick.
"I want my call!"
_____________________________________

That's all I got right now....and probably for a very long time....but there you have it. So is the scatty brain and painfully short attention-span I have been gifted with.