Kitayama might be taking a picture of this (mousapelli) wrote,
Kitayama might be taking a picture of this
mousapelli

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movin on up

well, i'm totally in the new room now. I like it a lot, i thought it would take me longer to start thinking of it as MY room, but it was a smoother transition than usual. I got some material to make curtains with. At the walmart, i couldn't decide between fabrics. One was prettier, but the other was glittery. Katharine pointed out that i could just get glitter spray and glitter it myself, which is exactly what i did.

I hung the curtains and then glittered them, which was monumentally stupid, because they are right above the air conditioner, which proceeded to blow the ultra fine glitter that didn't stick immediatly all throughout my room. The computer is a little sparkly. The fish tanks are a tad bit shiny. my chairs are a smidge glitzy. oops.

I'm watching .Hack//Sign for the first time ever, and some guy was just like "Uh, I think I'm a girl in real life. Do you still want to..." and then there is a silence, after which the girl says "Yes. You have touched my soul." Wow. I think OTP Harry/Draco fic writers are getting their dialouge from this anime.

I haven't worked on either of the real stories since the wonking out of the ibook, but i did scrawl out some random bits of things. All of them are too long to be drabbles, although the second one is pretty close. None of them contain any explicit "dirty things about Harry Potter", dad, because i know you are reading this, although there is mention of male/male lust in all of them.

How did I become a slash writer? What's happened to me? Ellen, this is COMPLETELY your fault.

"Hummer"

“What do you think?” Ron asked.

“I hate it,” Draco replied.

Draco actually rather liked the yellow spready stuff Ron had brought home for dinner, which he thought might have been called ‘hummer’, or at any rate was giving him one as he imagined smearing the stuff all over Ron.

“You do not hate it!” Ron exclaimed. “You’re shoveling it in your face as fast as you can!”

“I’m starving!” Draco replied. “It’s hard work doing nothing all day.”

The truth was that Draco had a reputation to maintain, and he was fairly certain that reputation did not involve foods clearly invented by Muggles who owned nothing more than a jar and a spoon. Draco hadn’t learned much from his mother, but she had taught him that it wasn’t a real food unless it took at least three different pans to make and had a utensil earmarked specifically for eating the result.

Ron snorted and reached over to dip his flatbread into Draco’s humus and Draco slapped his hand away.

“See?” Ron looked smug.

“I don’t want your germs,” Draco sniffed. “It isn’t hygienic to double-dip other people’s food.”

“Draco,” Ron gritted his teeth, “you sleep in my bed. You’ve licked. Every. Inch. Of. My. Body! Whatever I’ve got, YOU’VE got!”

“Still though,” Draco shrugged. “I don’t spit in your food, do I?”


"Eyeliner"

Remus couldn’t breathe.

“Good lord, man!” James exclaimed. “What’s that on your face?!”

“Is that eyeliner?” Peter asked. “How on earth does Sirius manage to make eyeliner look masculine?”

“I think he should take it off, don’t you, Moony?” James elbowed Remus, but Remus was suffering from full-body paralysis.

He wished very much that Sirius would do away with the eyeliner before the paralysis wore off, because otherwise he was going to A) have one hell of an orgasm and B) tackle Sirius to the ground, and he was not at all sure in which order those two things were going to happen.

"Moving In"

Remus kicked open the door of the flat, arms burning with the effort of bringing the last box up the stairs. He stepped inside and nearly went sprawling as he tripped over the sweaty pile that had lately been his flatmate.

“Sirius!” Remus snapped, temper short after spending all day lugging what was mostly Sirius’ things up four flights of stairs. “Get out off the floor and help me!”

“Can’t,” Sirius replied flatly. “Hot. Tired.”

Remus dropped the box on Sirius’ chest, driving out his breath with a whuff.

“So help me,” Remus growled, “if you don’t get up and help this instant, I’m going to use your broom as a chew toy!”

“You wouldn’t dare!” Sirius sat up suddenly, sending the contents of the box spilling out and rolling across the floor. “Don’t even joke about it! That’s a Cleansweep One, you fool!”

“I don’t care if it’s the very broom with which Godric Gryffindor swept the last grain of sand onto the Hogwarts Quidditch Pitch!” Remus shouted, perfectly willing to pick a fight.

He aimed a kick at Sirius, but Sirius grabbed his foot and jerked him to the ground with a thud. He flopped his body on top of Remus’ and kissed him hungrily. Remus pushed him away after several moments, still angry.

“Now I’M all hot and sweaty!” he complained.
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