magic_helmet

Who here has an ipod touch?

2009-10-10T21:37:23Z

I'm thinking of getting Mr. Magic Helmet an Ipod Touch for xmas, but finding consumer reports has been challenging.

So, I turn to you, my dear f-list, to tell me what you know about them.

Are they worth the money? If so, why? If not, why?

The mister doesn't want a cell phone, so the phone is definitely not in the running.

He has an ipod nano now and uses it daily, so I thought the next best thing would be the Ipod Touch.

So, I KNOW you lot have opinions... so lets have 'em.

Heads up everyone: MAJOR fanfiction thief on the loose

2009-06-22T21:06:32Z

http://www.wattpad.com/user/madiha?page=0

This person is madly uploading other peoples work to her account. She is crediting the author, but I bet she doesn't have permission...

So far, aspeninthesunlight, and aeryun is there, greengecko, teddylonglong, among 20 pages of others....

Have a look - your work might be there.

Fic: The Symbolism of Symbolism - written for the 2009 Snarry-A-Thon

2009-05-10T23:10:53Z

Title: The Symbolism of Symbolism
Author: magic_helmet
Rating: PG for a mention of sex
Word count: 2877
Warning(s): None
Prompt: Severus with Wings wrapped around Harry
Summary: When beauty is in the eye of the beholder, when a picture doesn't quite equal a thousand words, what do you do?
A/N: Betaed by the amazing sansa1970 Thanks also to hpstrangelove and starcrossdkayla for their encouragement and sharp eyes.

The Symbolism of Symbolism

Harry scrutinized Severus' back closely, his eyes roaming back and forth, up and down, drinking in the details. His mouth fell open in a silent "oh my god". He didn't know whether honesty was best at this point, or if he should flat out lie.... No, truth was best.

"Severus... that is the ugliest tattoo I've ever seen in my life. How much did the bloke charge you for that?"

Severus stiffened at Harry’s proclamation, and he hastily jerked his cotton shirt up over his arm. “No need to be insulting, Potter. I happen to disagree with you. I had it done as homage to you – to us.”

Harry sighed. It was clear that he’d perhaps been a bit too honest, and now Severus was descending into one of his famous snits. Merlin, this could last for days.

“Look, Severus, I’m not saying the idea isn’t touching, and that I’m not, well, flattered. All I’m saying is the bloke who scratched that into your back has no right to call himself an artist! And while we’re at it, what’s with the wings? They look like they are strangling me!”

“For your information, Potter,” Severus spat at him while he jerkily did up the plethora of buttons on his shirt, “it’s supposed to be symbolic. You might want to grab your Muggle dictionary and look that word up. The artist has drawn me in the design of an angel – as in YOUR guardian angel. Merlin knows I’ve been guarding your miserable life since you were a baby.”

“Hang on, guardian angels are supposed to have white wings…. Yours are black, and you never answered why they're choking me?” Harry asked. He could feel himself getting defensive. Severus was always making snide remarks about his intelligence, or lack thereof, and his quip about the dictionary was getting Harry's dander up.

Severus paused between buttons to look at Harry with complete disdain.

“In case you failed to notice, my robes are black, my hair is black, my wand is black. To have white wings would completely clash and look utterly ridiculous. You obviously know nothing about fashion OR art.”

Harry’s mouth fell open. “And you do? Look mate, you’re no bloody Christian Dior, I’ll tell you that. All you wear are those stifling bloody robes and those starched white shirts! You need to set aside an hour out of your day just to button and unbutton the bloody things. And as far as knowing anything about art, you think Dumbledore’s portrait is a masterpiece,” Harry said, his voice getting louder and louder.

“All right then, why don’t you enlighten me with your knowledge of the latest fashions hot off the runway, or your idea of fine art.” Severus folded his arms over his chest and looked down his considerable nose at Harry.

“I don’t know bugger all about those things,” Harry said, “but at least I don’t blather on like you do. You call Hermione a know-it-all, but honestly, you are ten times worse.”

Severus rose to full height and sneered at Harry. "For one, Miss Granger IS an insufferable know-it-all. For another, you consider stick figures animated by magic to be a work of art. And finally the artist who 'scratched this into my back,' as you so eloquently put it, came highly recommended. So much so that I had to book a month in advance to see him."

"Yeah well, considering your last disastrous choice of tattoos you'd think you would have steered clear of them!" Harry retorted, knowing deep down he was crossing a line with that comment.

The ensuing silence confirmed that he had not just stepped over that line, but jumped over it with wild abandon.

"That was low, even for you," Snape replied icily. He turned and walked into his lab, slamming the door after him. Harry knew he would be sleeping alone that night, and quite possibly the next.

* * * * *

*four days later*

“Harry! HARRY!!”

Severus’ desperate voice rang through the house. Harry, who had been comfortably seated in his favourite plush chair idly reading the latest Quidditch team standings, threw the paper to the floor and ran towards the sound of his husband’s panicked voice.

He found Severus in his potions lab, leaning heavily onto his hands over the chopping board. His pristine black robe had been thrown haphazardly onto the floor at his feet, and his usual crisp white shirt was untucked and scrunched up around his waist.

Harry was shocked at the sight. “Severus?” he asked as he hurried to his husband’s side.

Severus looked up at Harry with a grimace that attested to his pain.

“Harry… Help me…!” Severus begged through gritted teeth.

“What’s wrong? Tell me! Has there been an accident?” Harry asked, the concern in his voice palpable.

Severus grunted and shook his head, his lank hair swinging listlessly as though it too was in pain.

“Do you need a potion? A chair? Do you need to lie down?” Harry asked, his voice riding the edge of panic.

Each suggestion was met with a groan and a shake of the head.

“Merlin, Severus, tell me what’s wrong!” Harry had never seen Severus in such a state, and he was about to grab his husband and floo them both to the St. Mungo’s Emergency Ward.

“I need….” Severus said between gritted teeth.

“Yes? Tell me! Anything!”

“I need you to scratch my back! The bloody tattoo is healing and the itching is driving me to distraction!”

Harry’s mouth dropped open. He’d been convinced his husband was on the verge of dropping dead! “Have you gone mad?” he asked incredulously. “I mean that seriously, Severus, do you have any idea what this looked like? I thought you were dying!”

“Yes, as a matter of fact I have gone quite mad. As I mentioned before, the itching is beyond tolerable! Now if you would, please do as I’ve asked and scratch my back! Merlin’s balls, Harry, don’t just stand there. Put yourself to use!”

Harry’s first inclination was to turn on his heels and stalk right out of the room and back to his Quidditch scores, but the sight of his husband in such agony made him sigh heavily and reach a hand up under the rumpled shirt.

“Really Severus, you’ve survived the Cruciatus. Don’t you think you might be overacting just a touch?” Harry asked as he scratched Severus’ back the best he could, considering he had no fingernails to speak of, bitten as they were to the quick.

“Not at all. This was much worse. But it’s much better now… yessss much better….” Severus replied. His eyes were closed, and he wore such a look of bliss on his face that Harry didn’t have the heart to stop.

“My goodness, such a fuss. You’re a Potions Master, don’t you have something you can slap on to take the itch away?”

“Nothing that wouldn’t interfere with the ink and ruin the design,” Severus answered, his eyes still closed in a state of bliss.

“Yeah well, we wouldn’t want anything interfering with the design after all, would we?” Harry said under his breath.

He lifted Severus’ shirt and took a really good look. As far as tattoos went, this had to be the worst he’d ever seen. The tattoo covered nearly three-quarters of Severus’ back. Severus the “guardian angel” stood behind a poor likeness of Harry. The Angel's wings circled around Harry’s shoulders, and they came to rest against his throat, giving the distinct impression that he was about to be choked. Not to mention Severus was looking down at Harry in what was supposed to be an adoring way, but came across as though he was going to rip open his jugular and drink him dry. And then there was the color. It was dreadful. The artist had attempted to shade Harry’s face, but the result left him looking more like a burn patient, with dark reddish blotches all over his face. It was hard to look at that monstrosity and not cringe.

And yet Severus was surprisingly pleased with it. Harry had caught him looking at it in the bathroom mirror - several small mirrors floating around so he could see it from all angles - on more than one occasion.

Harry knew it was there to stay. He sighed and scratched on.

The things he did for love.

* * * * *

“Your tea, Mr Weasley,” Severus said, as he gracefully handed Ron a hot cuppa with a shortbread on the side of the saucer.

“Cheers, brilliant!” Ron said as he dipped his cookie in his tea and savoured the first bite.

“So anyway, Harry, you know where I caught Hermione and Ginny yesterday? You’ll never guess! Go on, guess!” Ron said, the occasional crumb flying out of his mouth.

“Um, in Diagon Alley?” Harry guessed.

“Nah, Diagon Alley’s not so bad now that they’ve locked up the last of the stinking Death Eaters… er… sorry Severus. You know I didn’t mean you….” Ron looked sheepishly at Severus, who sat ramrod straight next to Harry on the couch, as though enduring a visit from Ron was akin to pulling the stingers of a Blast End Skrewt from out of his backside. Indeed, he probably would have considered the latter more pleasurable.

“No seriously, guess! No? Ok I’ll tell you. I caught the two of them in a bloody Muggle tattoo parlour! Hermione already had the design stencilled onto her back. Some stupid vine and flower! I marched her out of there straight away. I told her no wife of mine is going to have a tramp stamp. Ginny can get one, but she’s, you know, kinda loose. But not my Hermione. Over my dead body, mate!”

Ron hadn’t noticed that at the use of the term “tramp stamp” Severus’ head had swung in his direction, a furious look on his face.

“I beg your pardon, gentlemen,” Severus said, standing, “but I have only now remembered a potion that must be stirred. It cannot wait.” With a curt nod of his head, he excused himself from the room.

Harry listened to Ron blather on for another hour before he had a chance to seek his husband out. He found Severus in the bathroom, holding a vanity mirror in his hand and scrutinizing his back in the larger mirror behind him. The larger mirror was wisely keeping its opinion to itself.

“What are you doing, Severus?” Harry asked softly as he leaned against the door of the bathroom.

“Merely observing the finer details of my 'tramp stamp',” Severus replied dryly, although it was clear he no longer seemed as impressed with the tattoo as he had been even a day ago.

“Look, Ron’s an idiot sometimes, we both know that. Don’t let him get to you. Do you want me to give that a good scratch?” Harry asked hoping to avoid his husband from sinking into a snit.

“Yes, as a matter of fact your friend IS an idiot. I have been regaling you with that detail for years now. As for scratching this monstrosity on my back, considering you took off half of your own face and part of a wing the last time you scratched it, it is clearly not a good idea. It is also clear that you find it hideous, regardless of my motive. Don’t worry, I shall brew something that will remove it. It shall be gone by the end of the week.”

With that, Severus placed the hand mirror on the counter and quietly walked past Harry.

Watching Severus pull his starched shirt over the tattoo as he walked out of the bathroom bothered Harry. Yes the tattoo had been a bloody menace since the moment Severus had come home with the blasted thing. It WAS hideous, there was no getting around that. And the constant demands to scratch it were proving tiresome. Just the night before, Harry had been on his back, Severus on top of him, thrusting wildly, both of them in the throes of passion, and Harry's hands, which had been on Severus' arse, had moved upward and touched the tattoo. Suddenly the thrusting stopped, and Harry spent the next several minutes scratching Severus’ back. He rolled his eyes in the dark as groans of a different sort emanated from his husband.

Yes, no matter how you looked at it, there was really nothing nice to say about it, and it would probably be best if Severus did manage to remove it from his back. Removing it from memory would be a touch harder, as some things once seen could not be un-seen. But something nagged at Harry. Perhaps the way his husband stared at it as though it was a patch of pride. The way he had kept his intention a secret, even being in a near jovial mood the days leading up to it.

Harry couldn’t deny that Severus was proud of that tattoo. It didn’t matter how ugly it was; it was something he had done to honour Harry. Severus, who refused any forms of public displays of affection and who refused at the best of times to utter any sort of confirmation to his feelings for Harry, had opted to go to a Muggle tattoo parlour and have them both memorialized onto his back.

Harry could hear Severus crashing around in his lab, being louder than he needed to, while he readied his cauldron for brewing. He pondered what Severus had said the day he'd come home with the tattoo.

Symbolism.

Harry made sure Severus was still in his lab before he walked to the bookcase and found the gigantic Muggle/Wizard dictionary there. He opened it to the "S" page.

"Symbolism," he read aloud, "artistic imitation or invention that is a method of revealing or suggesting immaterial, ideal, or otherwise intangible truth or states."

He carried the book over to his favourite plush chair and cradled it in his arms as he sat and pondered what he had just read.

How was it that he had been married for nearly three years and he hadn't realized how important symbolism was to his husband? How had he missed that? Severus was always telling him he had no powers of observation to speak of, this was the equivalent to missing a hippogriff on a Quidditch field.

So symbolism was important to Severus, was it? Harry really didn’t give it much thought. As quickly as the thought jumped into his head, he was up on his feet and at the Floo. He threw some powder into the fireplace and stepped in.

“Ginny Weasley’s house.”

* * * * *

"My god, Potter, could you be any more impulsive?" Severus asked as his eyes roamed over his husband's back.

"I understand now what you meant, Severus. I understand that tattoo is how you feel about me. REALLY feel about me. I know you feel protective, but I see now… I see that it’s a permanent image of what you can’t always say. No matter who we’re with, or what ridiculous event the ministry feels we have to make an appearance at. Even if you’re unable to hold my hand, I know what’s just under your clothes. I didn’t understand it before, but I think it’s beautiful now.

"And mine isn’t as complex as yours. It’s just a heart with your name through it. It means that it’s only ever been you, Severus, and it only ever will be.”

Harry looked over his shoulder at Severus, who was lightly running his hand over the giant red heart on Harry’s back, his eyes drinking in the swirly script that spelt out his name.

“As far as symbols go, Harry, this is adequate,” Severus said softly. “Adequate indeed. The fact you would place this on your person for the remainder of your life touches me deeply. Thank you.”

Severus leaned over and placed a kiss on his name that ran across his husband’s back. "Merlin, Potter, you couldn’t have chosen an uglier tattoo, but it's the thought that counts," he added quickly when Harry turned to glare. "And the thought behind it is divine. Come to bed my husband. You have exactly four days before it will start to itch, and I would be remiss if I did not warn you that it will drive you to the edges of madness and back.”

“Oh jeez, I forgot about that part.” Harry said, turning to nuzzle Severus. “You’ll scratch my back for me though, won’t you?”

Severus cocked an eyebrow, a wicked gleam in his eye. “Perhaps.”

~Fin~

Happy Holidays, everyone!

2008-12-10T10:38:27Z

Usually I don't bother posting non-fandom stuff here, but I couldn't resist this.

Christmas Gift Toy & MySpace Layouts at pYzam.com

Unnamed Snarry written by Madame Mystery Writer

2008-11-29T21:06:57Z

I have been glum this past week due to my personal life completely unravelling. (No, it's likely not as bad as it seems, and when it's behind me, I'll likely look back and call myself a wimp for allowing it to consume me as much as it has) But anyway, this was written for me by someone who prefers to remain anonymous. (Thank you, my dearest anonymouse!)

It's dark, it's non-con, it's delicious, and I know of at least one other person who will be loving this (yes, I'm stink-eyeing you hpstrangelove).

Enjoy and if the urge strikes, please comment, as I'm sure my mystery writer will be reading the replies. (PS - if anyone has a suggestion for a name, I'm all ears)

Unnamed Snarry
Rating: NC-17
Warning for Chan, non-con
Summary: Just a darkish little one-shot of Snape bending Harry to his will. (Did I mention this was chan?)
Word Count: 2,032
Posted with permission!

"I hate you," he says. He always says that. I enjoy it the most when he sobs it, but I can never stand his crying for long. I rarely have to. The best thing about children is that they are even easier to please than they are to hurt. A few treacle tarts, fat bits of taffy, or a new toy and his sniffles end; occasionally even overrode with a smile. That never ceases to amaze me; how easy it is to win his affections even after what I've done to him. Even though he knows fully who and what I am and what I will do.

"Come here," I say with an easy wave of my hand. I do not give the order with conviction for I do not care if he obeys or not. I will have my pleasure either way. He's realised this by now - he's stupid, but not brain dead and I watch with amusement as his little fists clench and unclench as he wars in his mind whether to resist me and be punished or submit and be rewarded. Of course, I occasionally mix up the outcome to keep him guessing, not knowing if this time he will be punished for obeying. I love the terror and confusion on his face then; when I change the rules after delineating sharp boundaries between what he must and mustn't do.

His mouth in a thin line, his eyes flashing, he takes a step forward as if he were under the Imperius curse and fighting it every step of the way. I expect him to turn and run from me any moment, but perhaps he has learnt his lesson after what happened the last time he ran from me for he stops beside my chair.

"Kneel." I crook a finger towards my spread legs. He presses his lips even thinner, his mouth now a white line and he narrows his eyes at me, no doubt imagining my death. Others would have long ago beaten the disobedience out of him, but it's my favourite part of him and partly why I've yet to become bored of him. I raise an eyebrow at him, letting him know that I expect him to make a decision soon.

He hisses and I wait for the Parseltongue, which emerges when he's very angry, but it never comes and he kneels, glaring at me as if daring me to hurt him; daring me to force him to continue.

I smile at him and stroke my fingers through his hair lovingly. "Good, Harry. Very good."

Nothing unsettles him more. His green eyes shift between anger and confusion and he swallows hard, his fists in little balls upon his knees.

I lean back in my chair and pick up my book, opening to the page on which I left off. Without looking at him, I say, "you know what to do." I pretend to read but, in truth, I wait to see what he does. I do not know if he knows what to do or even has the capacity to figure out what I desire. And even bigger question is whether he will do it without hearing a command. Time slides by, the clock upon the mantelpiece the only sound in the room.

Then, he shifts and his fumbling fingers find the buttons on my trousers. I train my eyes on my book and ignore him as he pushes aside the fabrics to free my penis from its confines. He wraps his hands around the shaft and licks at the head short, quick strokes of the tongue. He's always been terrible at it, but recently he's got better and now he can deep throat me with minimal fuss although never for very long. I turn the pages on my book and allow my arousal to build slowly. Later I will watch this in the pensieve and admire his green eyes, observe the looks he makes when he doesn't realise he's being watched, and delight in the sight of his small mouth and throat stretched wide by my manhood. I ignore him until I'm close and then I hold his head in place until he's swallowed me down. When I release him, he drops back to the floor, his face flushed pink, his eyes wide, and his chest rising and falling in quick breaths of air. The expression on his face is the same as when I stroked ejaculate out of him for the first time in his young life: surprise, astonishment, shame and yet, a hint of pride.

Should I reward him or punish him? Both equally appeal to me and, unable to decide, I place the book to the side and order him to undress. He glares at me, but his fingers fly over his buttons quickly, pulling off the Hogwarts uniform I dress him in. He throws the clothing carelessly on the floor, an eyebrow cocked as if daring me to punish him. I should tie him to my desk and lash his bottom until it is delightfully red and his face is wet with tears. Instead, I motion for him to stand. When he does so after a moment's hesitation, I wrap my hand around his testicles and he freezes, fear in his eyes. Ever since I mused about castrating him aloud, it's always been on his mind. I jingle the small bits of flesh in their hairless soft sac.

"Look at this little thing," I sneer, flicking his soft penis with my thumb.

It's enough to shame him and humble more than hours of torture will. His cheeks red, he bites his red lower lip and casts his gaze to the floor. I turn him around and push him down to his knees, shoving his head towards the floor. I grab the end of the buttplug buried deep within his arse and wiggle it around, casting a vibration spell on it as I do so. His fingers curl in the carpet and his body shakes. I can't resist smacking his arse, drawing a satisfyingly loud yelp from his throat. I almost lose my patience, yank out the plug, and slide into his unabused hole, but I force myself to wait. I want him perfect when I take him -- stretched enough but not too much and desperate to be filled.

"What do you want?" I ask him as I lean back and watch him tremble, his cock filling and his balls tightening. He hates this part. He won't be able to orgasm until I release the spell I keep around his penis to ensure his pleasure only comes from me.

"I want you to die," he says, but the conviction isn't in the words like it used to be. It's often there outside these moments, but ever rarer within them.

I lift my wand and increase the width of the buttplug by a centimetre. He groans, the sweat on his back glistening in the candle-light.

"What do you want?" I wonder how many times it will take on this occasion. Half of me wants him to hold out until I grow tired and abandon him, while the other half is impatient for him to give in.

At the beginning, he refused to answer but I quickly put a stop to that. "I want to be free," he says, his fingers sliding towards his penis before he catches himself and moves them safely away. It's a new answer, one I haven't heard before, and I file it away to ponder over it later.

"What do you want?" Watching him squirm and pant while he moans and humps the air. The sight fills me with desire but I am a patient man and I will wait as long as it takes.

"I want-" he says. "I want to orgasm."

I'm surprised how quickly he moves to the next step this time, but maybe he's finally learned. He's a slow student, but once he masters his lessons, he doesn't forget them. I slide off the chair and pull him up to his knees. He looks at me, his vibrant eyes filled with confusion since I used to give him release when he said those words. I've set the finish line further this time. I conjure a mirror and grab his chin, forcing him to gaze upon his reflection. To see his pink cheeks and red lips; his small, hard nipples; his red erection calling for my attention. He shuts his eyes and I growl, "look." He forces his eyes open and stares at his reflection, his cheeks turning pinker.

"Look at how hard you are, you little whore." I press my fingertip into the head of his penis and he convulses, the orgasm desperate to come out. "What do you want? Tell me what you want."

"Please," he says, his words breathless. "I want to c- orgasm."

I only allow him to use certain words. He's begging, but it isn't enough. I reach around him to pinch on his nipples; tugging them hard to make them nice and ripe. "What do you want?"

His little mind is churning, desperately trying to figure out where I've placed the bar now. "I want.... I want you to touch me."

He's learning quick. I give him a reward. "Where do you want me to touch you?"

"My cock."

I grab his nipple and twist it hard until he cries out with pain.

"Iwantyoutotouchmycock!"

I squeeze harder.

"I WANT YOU TO TOUCH MY PENIS!"

I release him and rub the injured bit of flesh tenderly. His eyes are dotted with tears, little droplets of water that catch the light from the candles. His face is hardening and if I carry this game further, I know he will be especially disobedient and resentful for days to come. He may even try to strike me. I've allowed him to land a few blows; after all, what can a child do against me? It might be fun; however, it is growing late and I have a meeting to attend tomorrow. I flatten my hand against his chest, feeling his little heart beating like a wounded bird. "Tell me again what you want and, this time, be polite."

His face twists, his eyes blinking rapidly and his mouth thins again. I know he wants to scream his hatred of me and I expect a flood of fury unleashed upon me. Instead, he forces out the words I want to hear. "I want you to touch my penis! Please!"

I drop my hand and stroke him, removing the spell on the second stroke. His eyes widen almost comically huge before they slam shut; his mouth the reverse, as a cry escapes from his throat. He comes in streams, long white splatters that shoot across the floor. I stop the vibration spell and he collapses, barely managing to catch himself on his hands and knees, before his knees give way and he's a quivering mess, curled up on the floor like a kitten.

"Filthy slut," I spit the words as I stand and smooth out my clothing, pretending I despise him for this. His body is trembling more than ever, his face buried in the crook of an arm. I wonder if I will see that bit of pride in his eyes or only shame and, for a moment, I debate forcing him to look at me while he cleans the floor with his tongue. But it's only a passing fancy, and I turn and stride from the room, calling, "clean that mess up," over my shoulder. I hope he refuses. I hope the next time I see him he smolders with rage and fights me the entire time.

I'll leave him at this stage until he's become used to my hand on his penis at his request. I'll touch him anywhere he'll ask. Eventually, I won't let him orgasm until he begs for my cock. Of course, I will refuse him then; only finally taking him when he's convinced that I won't. It may take a while, but with Dumbledore dead and the Dark Lord vanished, I have all the time in the world.

magic_helmet @ 2008-09-18T20:59:00

2008-09-19T04:00:27Z

1. Take a picture of yourself right now.
2. Don't change your clothes, don't fix your hair - just take a picture.
3. Post that picture with NO editing.
4. Post these instructions with the picture.

Me in my lair.

I hate them all, but nevertheless, there you are...

Suuuuuuper Sekrit Meme

2008-09-15T20:33:38Z

Super Secret Meme:

1. There are 30 questions.
2. Next to each number, write only the name of the person who fits.
3. Answer one question with one name.
4. Don't tell the questions to anyone who isn't doing the meme.

This meme was totally not what I was expecting. It was harder than I thought.

1. accioslash
2. roedhunt
3. joanwilder
4. annephoenix
5. undun
6. starcrossdkayla
7. gmth
8. dacro
9. snapetoy
10. dacro!!!
11. I have no idea
12. Harry Potter!
13. nimori
14. atrata
15. rakina
16. sansa1970
17. oni_butterfly
18. dementordelta
19. svartalfur
20. the_con_cept
21. I don't get that question
22. or that one...
23. aliciamasters
24. djin7
25. amanuesis1
26. synn
27. empathic_siren
28. pir8fancier
29. djin7, dacro, glockgal
30. I love and fangirl every last one of you!

For those of us who haven't seen "Equus"

2008-09-12T22:40:17Z

You might want to check these photo's out while you can.

http://fullfrontalfriday.blogspot.com/2008/09/full-frontal-friday_12.html

You're welcome.

My entry for Bring Back the Porn

2008-09-01T06:30:43Z

Title: The Veil
Author: magic_helmet
(Fandom)Pairing: Harry Potter - Severus Snape/Harry Potter
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 4,647
Summary: Unfortunately for Harry, he had his mother's eyes.
Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters belong to J.K. Rowling. No monetary profit has or will be made on this story.
Highlight for Warnings: * Non-Con, Dirty-Talk, Mild violence *
Beta: Endless thanks go to joanwilder. Thanks for your encouragement and excellent proofreading skills. Thanks as well to starcrossdkayla and roedhunt for allowing me to bounce ideas off them.

The Veil

Severus stared out of the grimy window and down the steep slopes to the valley below. Who would have thought that this tiny little cottage, hidden deep in the Carpathian Mountains, would have been the homiest place he’d ever lived? It was in a state of ruin, and held together with magic, even more than the Burrow had ever been, but within it’s crumbling damp walls he’d come closer to happiness than he’d ever been in his life.

The kettle whistled and pulled him from his revere, and he silently poured the water into the waiting teapot. He arranged two cups onto an old tin tray and carefully placed some cookies on a china plate before picking up the tray and carrying it to the back of the cottage, where an iron bed in a room just slightly larger than a closet sat, pushed up snugly into the corner of the room.

He carefully balanced the tray on a small table and turned to the bed’s lone occupant. A solitary figure sat across the bed – the feet dangling just over the edge, the back rigid against the wall and the hands bound by a heavy chain resting on either side of the head. The entire body was swathed in black cloth from head to toe, except for the hands, which dangled listlessly from their chains, and the eyes, which never looked away from Severus. Indignity and fury long having left them, they now stared at him with suspicion and a hint of fear.

Severus gave a tight smile and reached for the teapot.

“Shall I pour, my dear?” he asked?

The body on the bed gave no reply, but one of the hands twitched as though contemplating whether to reply via a one fingered salute, but then thought better.

Severus inclined his head and gave a tight smile. He wordlessly poured the tea and placed a biscuit onto the saucer. Holding it with the utmost care, he slowly climbed onto the bed and kneeled beside the hapless prisoner.

“I truly wish it didn’t have to be this way, my dear. You know it pains me to have to keep you in such a state. If you would simply cease and desist these amateur and, dare-I-say, clumsy attempts at escape, I would not have to keep you restrained here.

He laid the cup and saucer on the bed and he carefully reached up to the long cloth that rested just beneath the eyes of his captive and fell unceremoniously down to mid-chest level. Severus took hold of the heavy black cloth and slowly started to roll it up, exposing first the neck, then the chin, then the lips of his captive. He carefully tucked up either side of the cloth and uttered a simple spell to keep the cloth from falling back down.

Severus frowned at the exposed face. It was all wrong. The jaw was too square and the lips not quite full enough, and he tensed, restraining in him the urge to strike that jaw as hard as he could. But then he looked up to the eyes – the impossibly green almond shaped eyes, and relaxed. He reached for the tea cup and carefully brought it to his captive’s lips.

“It’s still a bit warm, please do be careful,” he said, before tipping just enough for the mouth to take a quick sip. He tipped it too far, however, and some of the hot liquid ran down the chin and dribbled onto the black cloth below. Snape tsked as he swiped his hand over the chest, smearing the tea into the cloth.

“Really, Lily, you were never quite so slovenly before Potter got his claws into you,” Severus said with disdain. He reached for the biscuit and dunked it into the tea before holding it up in front of the mouth.

“Please…” the mouth said. “Please, Snape… don’t do this… I won’t tell… I’ll keep your secret… just please release me… you can stay dead for all I care, just… please let me go.”

The voice that emanated from the mouth was breathy and hoarse, as though it had been idle for a time.

Severus leaned back on his heels, and smiled down at the face. Being careful to look only at the eyes, he gently touched the side of the face.

“Go? But where would you go, my darling Lily? Don’t you know there is no safe place but here?”

The head he was so gently caressing pulled from his hand and the eyes blazed.

“I’M NOT LILY YOU FUCKING PSYCHO, I’M HARRY! DO YOU HEAR ME? HARRY! NOW LET ME THE FUCK GO!”

Quick as a flash Snape pulled his hand back and struck as hard as he could. The head snapped violently to the side and was silent.

“Dammit, you ruin everything!” Snape hissed at him, as he quickly unwound the cloth and smoothed the veil back into place; the Silencing Charms spelled directly into the cloth would ensure once again the moody silence of his prisoner.

Backing off the bed, he gathered the empty tea cup, its remnants having spilled all over the blanket of the bed, and placed it carelessly onto the tray.

“I can see you aren’t as thirsty as I thought you might be. I shall try again later.”

Snape turned on his heel and stalked out of the room, making sure to slam the little wooden door on his way out.

~*~

Harry banged his head into the wall in frustration. The side of his face was throbbing from where Snape had struck him and he knew he’d be left alone for the remainder of the day now. Snape always left him alone after Harry managed to piss him off.

And speaking of piss, Harry needed to go, and soon.

He tried calling for Snape but the veil swallowed his voice. There was magic woven into the cloth for sure, because as well as rendering him mute, no matter how much he rubbed the cloth against his arms, it never rode up to expose his mouth. Even pulling himself up by the manacles and pushing his face close enough for his hands to grip the coarse material didn’t work. It merely turned as slippery as silk in his grasp and slid away from the desperate fingers.

He banged his head against the wall a few more times, hoping Snape would hear him and return, but the door stayed closed. With a sigh, Harry crossed his legs and hoped he could hang on long enough for Snape to return.

Harry thought back to the night he’d been ambushed by Snape and brought to this shit-hole. He’d been enjoying a night out with the lads in their favourite local pub. With the war over and the Dark Lord dispatched once and for all, they had all relished the freedom of knocking a few pints back at the pub before stumbling home in a drunken stupor, arm in arm with Ron and singing ribald songs about girls as they staggered back to the flat they shared.

Harry assumed Ron had just tripped, and he had laughed as he attempted to haul Ron back onto his feet. He never heard the Stupefy that knocked him down onto the gravel path beside Ron, nor did he see the face of his attacker as his mouth was pried open and a foul liquid poured down his throat, sending him spiralling down, down, down into oblivion.

When he woke, he was covered head to foot in black, and staring into the eyes of the late Severus Snape. Only Snape was sitting beside him and stroking his face … and speaking to him more tenderly than he had ever done before.

~*~

It was nightfall before Snape entered the room again, this time carrying a bowl of broth on the little tin tray.

His nose wrinkled at the blatant smell of urine that assaulted his nostrils and he again placed the tray carefully on the small table before turning to his prisoner.

“I do apologize if I neglected to observe your most basic of needs, dearest Lily. Please do forgive me,” Snape said, as he pulled his wand out of his sleeve and pointed it at the prisoner, uttering a simple Scourgify to clean the offending mess away.

He climbed up on the bed next to Harry and slowly started to roll the veil up until his mouth was exposed. He then reached for the soup and without a word, dipped the spoon into the broth and held it up to Harry’s mouth. Perhaps hunger was dictating his temporary compliance, but Harry did nothing more than slurp down the broth offered to him. Snape, who had been feeling tense since their last altercation, felt himself relax slightly.

“That’s it, my dear. See how lovely things can be when you cooperate? Now, you must get all of my hearty broth into you. If you finish it off, I’ll give you a cup of tea before bed,” Snape murmured in a gentle tone.

At the word “bed” Harry visibly tensed and darted a look up at his former Professor, who continued to spoon broth into Harry’s mouth. When the bowl was empty, Snape smiled and gently pressed a napkin against Harry’s lips, carefully wiping up any errant soup that may have spilled, and then he quite suddenly leaned in and kissed Harry tenderly on the lips.

Harry jumped slightly at the unexpected kiss and turned his head away, his whiskers scraping across Snape’s still puckered lips. Nonplussed, Snape reached up and lightly touched Harry’s chin, running the back of his fingers down his throat and back up over his cheek. Without taking his eyes off of Harry, Snape reached into his sleeve for his wand. Harry jerked violently and tried to turn his face away from Snape, who easily grabbed Harry’s chin and pulled his face back towards him again. Pressing the wand against Harry’s cheek, Snape quietly uttered, “Incidere Barba,” and Harry closed his eyes and winced as he felt his stubble being scraped off his face, the spell digging into the layers of flesh until finally nothing but soft, smooth skin remained.

“Better,” Snape said, again rubbing the cheeks of his captive with the back of his hand before lowering the veil once again. He backed off of the bed and quietly placed the bowl back onto the tin tray and left the room without saying another word.

He made a cup of tea for himself and stared idly at the wall as he absently drank it. Of course he had promised to take in a cuppa to Lily, but it would lessen the effects of the potion he had mixed into the broth. He hated having to resort to such tactics; however the evenings were a delicate affair and he had no wish to harm to Lily, but she did insist on struggling so.

And oh how the eyes looked at him with reproach!

Those eyes.

They haunted him and had done so since he’d lain drenched in his own blood on the floor of that insipid shack. He had looked up into those beautiful eyes as his life essence spilled out of him and vowed that he would not die there, in that place! He had scraped and dragged himself out of that shack, and to safety, where he could ride out the poison of the venom coursing through his veins. Nagini’s venom was rarely fatal, but it did have its side effects. And when Snape woke, his fever broken, and weak with pain, he could think of nothing else but those eyes. Her eyes, that had stayed with him, and that looked at him with sympathy… with love.

Potter had been careless. Constant vigilance had apparently been discarded the minute the Dark Lord had been vanquished. Snape had watched for months from the shadows. Watched as Potter and company had gone about their daily lives. He learned Potters habits, his haunts, his weaknesses. When the time had come to strike, it had been like taking candy from a baby… from Lily’s baby.

Once the veil had been forced onto his prize, the rest, as they say, had been the icing on the cake. Harry Potter had ceased to exist, and Lily had risen from his ashes.

Severus swallowed the last of his now tepid tea, and placed the cup and saucer onto the counter. He unbuttoned his shirt, his practiced fingers flying over the many buttons and folded it neatly before placing it on a small dinner table. Quietly he picked up a solitary candle that was the only source of light in the now darkened cottage and he walked back into the room.

Harry appeared to be asleep. His head lolled forward and his hands dangled listlessly from the chains. Severus pushed Harry’s head back and looked at his eyes, which were open, but dazed. Satisfied, with the results, Severus took out his wand and spelled open the manacles. Harry’s arms fell to the bed and his body slumped to the side. Severus placed the candle on the tiny table and shucked off the rest of his clothes with far less preamble than he had done with his shirt. Leaving his trousers and pants in a heap on the floor, he climbed up onto the bed. He maneuvered Harry onto his back and hastily pulled the veil up over his mouth. He paused to look hastily into the bright green eyes that stared dreamily up at the ceiling before crushing his lips onto Harry’s.

Harry gave a slight noise as Snape’s tongue dove into his mouth and rubbed roughly against his tongue, but otherwise lay limply as Snape’s hand ran up and down the length of his body, grasping and pulling up the straight black gown until Harry’s legs and torso were exposed.

Snape rolled on top of Harry and rubbed his rapidly own hardening cock against Harry’s, which was in a state of semi-arousal. He hungrily kissed along Harry’s neck before stopping at his ear.

“Can you hear me?” he whispered hotly into Harry’s ear. “I want to fuck you. I’m going to fuck you. Here… now….”

Harry’s head twisted away and Snape paid no mind, kissing the neck and following the ear.

“Don’t fight me. I promise I’ll make it good for you. I’ll make you hard,” he said, gyrating his cock against Harry’s rapidly swelling member. “I’ll make you come, just let me, I’ll make your body sing,” Snape said, licking and kissing at Harry’s earlobe.

“I’ll show you….”

Snape abandoned the ear lobe and kissed his way down Harry’s neck, until he came to the collar of the plain black gown. He scooted down the bed until his face hovered over Harry’s flat stomach, and he pushed his hands up under the snug-fitting robe until his fingers found Harry’s nipples. He rubbed them softly, feeling them respond and harden into erect little nubs.

Harry closed his eyes and groaned. He moved his head from side to side as though he were trying to escape from the fog that surrounded his head. Harry moved his hands down his body and tried to push the insistent fingers off of his nipples, as though the sensation was too much to bear and the attention unwanted.

Snape saw the gesture and sneered. Harry was always playing the chaste virgin. Tonight he was not in the mood to entertain that particular game.

“Don’t pretend you don’t want it, you wanton slut,” he growled as he lazily licked at Harry’s hip. Keeping one hand on Harry’s chest, he moved the other slowly down towards Harry’s cock, feathering the fingers so lightly across his skin, they left a trail of goose bumps. When Snape wrapped his long potion-stained fingers around Harry’s cock, Harry bucked slightly up into his grasp.

“Ah, the whore emerges,” Severus said, before leaning over to lick the head of Harry’s cock, which was beginning to leak pre-come. Snape lazily ran his fingers through the clear substance and smeared it liberally around the head. Harry’s cock was steadily emerging from its foreskin and Snape worked his finger beneath it and slowly stroked the skin beneath the shaft. Harry threw back his head and groaned loudly. His hands grasped the sheets, twisting and pulling at them.

“Like that, don’t you, you little slut. You like me touching you where no one has touched you before. I’ll warrant that little ginger slut doesn’t do this, does she?” Snape was breathing hard as he worked his finger under Harry’s foreskin, slowly circling his cock as he did so.

“I’ll warrant she never did this, either,” Snape said, removing his finger and engulfing Harry’s cock in his mouth. Snape ran his tongue over the head of Harry’s cock, flicking it several times over the slit before he worked his tongue back under the foreskin.

Harry was moaning openly now. His head snapped back and forth and his hands grabbed at the head scarf covering his head in a desperate attempt to pull the sweat soaked cloth from his head.

Snape’s long fingers gently cupped Harry’s balls, rolling them gently as his mouth kept up the determined rhythm on Harry’s cock. Snape could feel Harry’s cock growing so hard it was hard to keep his tongue under the foreskin. He could tell Harry was close, and he grasped the base of his cock and started sucking him in earnest. When Snape felt Harry was mere moments away from coming, he pulled up to the head of Harry’s cock and scraped his teeth over the sensitive head. Once, twice, three times and Harry was raising his pelvis off the bed and crying out as come spewed from the end of his cock. Snape pulled his head away and watched with satisfaction as come shot up onto Harry’s stomach. Snape rubbed the overly sensitive member a few times, before running a hand through the come on Harry’s stomach, smearing it into the skin as though it was an expensive lotion.

“I knew you’d like a bit of pain with your pleasure. You are so predictable. I, however, am not, and I do believe it is my turn.”

Snape stood on the bed, his legs on either side of Harry’s body, and he bent over and grabbed Harry under each arm hauling him to a sitting position while manoeuvring him so that his back rested against the old chipped iron headboard. The veil had slipped and was again covering the lower half of Harry face, and Snape reached down and hauled it up over Harry’s mouth. He grasped the headboard with the other hand and bent his knees slightly, so that his cock was directly in front of Harry’s face.

“Open your mouth,” Snape ordered.

Groggy green eyes looked up at him and Snape pushed his cock against the slightly open mouth.

“More,” he said impatiently. “More, damn you.”

Finally Harry’s mouth opened enough for Snape to work his cock into. Snape groaned and threw his head back, relishing the bliss of sensation as a hot wet mouth surrounded his cock. He let go of the veil he had been holding and felt it tickle his legs as the material came to rest against his skin.

Snape grabbed the headboard with both hands for balance as he slowly worked his cock deeper into Harry’s mouth.

“Deeper,” Snape whispered, his voice thick with lust, “suck me deeper.” He felt Harry gag a few times and he pulled back slightly, before continuing his assault on the young man’s mouth.

“Look at me,” Snape ordered, and Harry again raised his eyes to Snape.

Snape placed one had behind Harry’s head as he gazed down into the eyes. Green eyes shone out between the layers of black cloth that framed them. Those impossibly green eyes that had once belonged to her pulled Snape in, until he felt he was being sucked into a vortex from which he would never escape. He looked deeply into those eyes and allowed the fantasy to envelop him.

He was staring at her, and she him. Lust shone in her eyes as she sucked his cock deeply, his balls hitting her chin, the black cloth swaying violently as Snape snapped his hips back, driving his cock deep into her mouth. Lily loved it rough. He knew by the way she groaned – by the way she sucked him that she loved every minute of it.

“Touch my balls,” Snape groaned “Play with them, yes, squeeze them… harder… harder…”

~*~

Harry could feel his head clearing from the fog that had surrounded it. Usually when his head finally cleared from whatever it was Snape had drugged him with, he would again be in chains, and Snape would be naked beside him, deep in sleep. But this time was different. Perhaps his body was becoming accustomed to the drug, or perhaps Snape had not been paying attention to the time, but the more Harry’s head cleared, the more the realized that he had a chance to escape, and that this was likely the only chance he would have at freedom.

He continued to look up at Snape who was staring down at Harry with such intensity it actually scared him. Harry tried not to listen to the filth that was spewing from Snape’s lips, as he obediently stroked and squeezed Snape’s sac.

“Harder, squeeze them harder…” the order came, and Harry made a fist around the skin, pushing the testicles until they were squeezed tightly.

Snape was groaning loudly now, thrusting deep into Harry’s throat.

Harry knew this was it. It was now or never. Gripping the sac tightly, he mentally counted to three before bringing his other hand up and hitting Snape as hard as he could in the testicles.

He didn’t have nearly enough room to really punch him, but it was enough. Snape let out a strangled cry before falling to his knees, his hands clutching his sac. Harry pushed Snape off of him, and jumped off the bed, landing a bit unsteadily on his feet. It had been a week or more since he had been allowed the luxury of standing, and he wasn’t sure if it was because of that or remnants of the drug still in his system that made him feel so woozy. He put his hand against the wall to steady himself as he looked desperately around the room for Snape’s wand. He picked up the trousers and shook them, to no avail.

Snape was howling in pain and Harry knew his time was limited. If Snape managed to get off the bed, Harry was as good as dead. Abandoning the search for the potion master’s wand, he turned and ran, flinging open the door to the cottage and running away as fast as he could.

It was a full moon, and Harry hoped to Merlin that there were no werewolves nearby. The moon lit up his path as he ran. He had no idea where he was, only that he was running down a hill. The black dress-like apparel Snape had clothed him in twisted around his legs, tripping him up, and forcing him to run at a slower pace, and the veil pressed against his mouth, suffocating him. Harry grasped at the material uselessly, as he gasped for breath.

He was running through a heavily wooded area, the moon all but obliterated by the canopy of trees overhead, and Harry could barely see as he ran. At one point, he was sure he could hear branches crashing behind him; was Snape in pursuit so soon? Harry turned his head to look and crashed to the ground as he tripped over the root of a tree, hidden in the foliage. He wasted no time in picking himself up before continuing his panicked run, his heart beating so hard, it felt as though it were going to burst from his chest. He zig-zagged through the thick forest, only knowing he was running down the hill, down to freedom.

Harry had no idea how long he had been running, but the sky was beginning to lighten when he burst out of the trees and onto a small dirt road. He was panting heavily, and grasped his side painfully, his heart beating loudly.

A road! This was good. It meant he was on the right path.

Turning to look behind him, he squinted as best as he could into the trees, hoping to see any movements if Snape was indeed hot on his trail, but without his glasses it was impossible for him to make out anything clearly. But the fact that he couldn’t see a black blur resembling a furious Snape was decidedly good news. Harry turned and loped down the soft dirt path.

He was starting to feel that he had enough of a head start now to actually get away and wondered if he would meet any people on the path. He wondered if the veil and headscarf he wore could be removed by another person, or if Snape had charmed it to obey only his potion-stained fingers. He wondered if he found water, if he would be able to bring his hand under the veil so he could drink. He was parched. Harry hated the claustrophobic cloth and he swore to himself if he got out of this alive, he would never wear another thing on his head, as long as he lived.

The sun was starting to rise as Harry slowed to a walk, slowly making his way down the mountainside towards freedom.

~*~

Snape watched the sunrise through the grimy window as he held a cup of steaming tea.
He took a sip and grimaced as the hot liquid washed away the foul taste of the pain potion he had taken, once he had been able to move enough to drag his body to the kitchen, where he stored a small variety of potions. His body still throbbed with pain, but it was now manageable, whereas before it had been beyond anything he had experienced previously, the pain rivalling Cruciatus.

Snape took another sip of tea and sneered to nobody in particular.

Apparently his little cat had had claws. Snape was, quite frankly, surprised that Harry had had the wherewithal to fight back the way he had. He should have been drugged until nigh on the next day. As Snape looked out the window, he quietly went through the ingredients he had put into the broth, and wondered if any of them had weakened his potion. He should have been able to administer it in all sorts of ways – food and drink notwithstanding.

He knew where Harry was running to. He knew there was a footbridge near the bottom of the mountain that crossed a raging river. It was the only place to cross. Judging by the amount of time that Harry had been gone, he would be nearing the bridge soon.

Snape knew the easiest course of action would be to Apparate to the end of the bridge and wait patiently for his prey. At the thought of moving, his groin gave a sudden throb in protest. No, he was in no condition to force a struggling Potter back up the mountain.

Instead he would reassess the situation. Snape knew that Potter would be on high alert for the next several months, but eventually he would start to let his guard down again, and when he did, Snape would be there. Only this time he would use a stronger potion to permanently incapacitate his prey. After all, he didn’t need Potter lucid. All he needed was a hot mouth, a tight arse, and those impossibly green, green eyes.

Snape was a patient man, he could wait.

Forever if he needed to….

~Fin~

Radcliffe on the Deathly Hallows and nudity!

2008-08-18T20:46:00Z

And fresh from stripping off onstage in the London production of Equus last year, Radcliffe said he is ready to bare all for the final Harry Potter film.

The actor wants to appear naked in Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows - if the script demands it.

The release of the sixth Harry Potter film Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince has been delayed until next summer.

Meanwhile, filming of the Deathly Hallows is due to begin in the Spring, after Daniel finishes his Broadway run in Equus.

At its climax the ghost of Hogwarts Headmaster Professor Dumbledore appears to Harry as he hovers between life and death after a killing spell by Lord Voldemort.

And in the dream sequence his mentor explains to the boy wizard how he can defeat the powers of evil.

Radcliffe said he re-read JK Rowling's book in preparation for the start of filming and made the surprising discovery that Harry is naked during the scene.

He said: 'At first, I thought I had pants on. Apparently not.'

And the actor confessed he was willing to play the part nude.

With bravado, he said: 'Bah, I've sort of done that. It's all old hat now, really.'

Source: http://www.dailymail.co.uk/tvshowbiz/article-1046409/Broadway-girls-potty-Harry-star-Daniel-Radcliffe.html

*rocks back and forth while rubbing rabbit foot desperately*

I have some people who I ow a big thank you to.

2008-08-08T06:58:55Z

I just wanted to say thanks to synn, ariadneelda, realpestilence, gin_gonic, rosiegirl22001, gaycrow, svartalfur, eeyore9990, djin7, aliciamasters, vain, ptyx, corvus_coronis and murklins for your lovely birthday wishes!

You guys keep the fandom glowing brightly!

I'm really touched by your birthday wishes.

Rai

Muchos cuteness and a question

2008-04-18T06:38:26Z

Does anyone know any Lucius/Harry communities on LJ? I know they are pretty few and far between, but if anyone has any that they would like to suggest, please don't hesitate.

Now for the cuteness....

So, this is my first spring with a real life garden (that's not just flowerboxes) and I went frigging mad! I asked Mr. Magic_Helmet to please take some photo's of the garden, and while he was doing so, a certain "someone" decided to waddle out of the house and into the photo.

I know it looks like a chop, but it's not.

Teh cute, no?

The Cash Buyeth, Clumbiness Doth Take it Away..

2008-04-10T04:46:44Z

I have been saving my little pennies for a new computer desk for a while now, and the one I wanted came on sale, so today after work, I hopped in my little tinker-toy of a car, and with debit card bravely in hand, bought my new desk. Rather than be patient, and wait for the free delivery, the poor Staples boy helped me push and squeeze my new desk into my car. Believe me, if you saw my car, and you saw the size of the package we managed to get into it, you would think it was an impossible fit, but get it in, we did, much to the stares and laughter of many a passer-by.

I got home, and have been putting this baby together since approximately 3:00 this afternoon (It's currently 9:30 pm, if that gives you any idea of my talents at assembling things that require me to use a screwdriver...)

So, now I have a cracking new lovely desk with drawers, and shelves, and cubby holes galore, and a keyboard tray that is big enough to actually fit my ergo keyboard AND my mouse on at the same time! Oh Bliss!!! BLISS, I tell you!

Or it was, until we had set up my computer, and plugged everything in, and was about to move it back against the wall, when hubby we pushed the shelf instead of the base, and dislodged the shelf - which then came crashing down on my monitor - my monitor that I got for my last birthday 8 months ago - and the very same one that replaced my last monitor, which I shattered by attempting to kill a fly that had landed on my panel....

Good news, the monitor is fine... the bad news is the base is broken. Splintered would be an adequate description of it, actually. Shattered into teeny tiny pieces. I now have my monitor balanced precariously between 4 DVD's and leaning against the back of my new shiney table.

I will not say my favorite four letter work.

*Sigh* does anybody know if it is possible to have a base replaced? If not, I'm afraid I'm stuck with this broken, precariously balanced monitor for a very, very long time.

Why do I have such bad luck with monitors??? WHY???

*headdesk*

the 7 things about me meme...

2008-03-10T02:02:04Z

I don't usually participate in meme's but since I've been tagged more than once, I thought what the H....

A. List seven habits/quirks/facts about yourself.
B. Tag seven people to do the same.
C. Do not tag the person who tagged you or say that you tag "whoever wants to do it."

1. I'm ambidextrous. I can do everything with both hands and quite often do - it depends how my desk is set up whether I will write with my left or my right hand.

2. I learned how to ride a horse before I could walk and had my first horse at age 4. I've competed both in the English ring (hunter/jumper) and the Western ring (rodeo's - barrel racing, pole bending and the flag race to be exact)

4. One of the best jobs I ever had was as a street vendor - selling jewelery. It's amazing what you learn from just sitting on a street and watching shit go down.

5. I once worked as a nanny for a once A-list movie star (sadly he isn't A-list anymore)

6. I have a Jeep that leaks. I once discovered mushrooms growing under the drivers seat.

7. I've lived in four countries so far.

There, that's pretty much the best I can do on such short notice...

I'm going to tag: empathic_siren, sansa, starcrossdkayla, roedhunt, alisanne, stageria and zazil_z guys, no pressure, do the meme only if you want to...

God, I wish we could post Youtube here....

2008-02-26T19:04:44Z

in anycase... run, don't walk to this little beauty here...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1XTFusYMOm4&eurl=http://www.dlisted.com/node?page=1

quoted from D-listed...

Daniel Radcliffe accepted some theater award for his work in Equus on Sunday night when the show's host, James Corden, ambushed him with a kiss. Daniel doesn't even try to deny it and he just goes with it. I don't blame the host. Harry Potter is that sexy. Even middle-aged straight men can't help wanting to put their lips all over him. I'm sure Daniel has to walk down the street with a bag over his head, because dogs, cats, women and men all try to get a piece of that.

The kiss is at around the 30 second mark"

Ok, that is one cool little dude to not get rattled by that in front of a live audience. Instead he just goes with the flow.

Movie Meme!!!

2008-02-24T06:37:21Z

Gacked from just about everybody in the fandom!

Answers have been posted within....

You should all know the drill by now...

1. Pick 15 of your favorite movies.
2. Go to IMDb and find a quote from each one.
3. Post them here for everyone to guess.
4. No Googling/using IMDb search functions.
5. Fill in the film once it's been guessed.

Ok, I'm a bit of a fan of the Indy movies, but all of these were given wide release. I've tried not to make them too hard. I'll reveal the missed ones on Wednesday.

1. ~~Well, technically speaking, the operation is brain damage, but it's on a par with a night of heavy drinking. Nothing you'll miss.~~ Guessed by synn as "Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind"

2. ~~All right, but apart from the sanitation, medicine, education, wine, public order, irrigation, roads, the fresh water system and public health, what have the Romans ever done for us?~~ Guessed by oni_butterfly as "The Life of Brian"

3. ~~Give me an occupation, Miss _______, or I shall run mad.~~ Guessed by djin7 as "Sense and Sensibility"

4. ~~Yes Jim, we should all eat the weevils~~ Gussed by sansa as "Empire of the Sun"

5. You want a Rolls-Royce, you don't come here, no no. You go to England, or wherever the fuck they make it. If you want champagne, you go see the French. If you need money, you find a Jew. But, if you want dirt, or scum buried under a rock somewhere, or some secret nobody wants anybody to know about, there's only one place to go: right here, Hell's Kitchen. It is the lost and found of shit. They lose it and we find it. Forget about it, man.
Sleepers

6. Was I bored? No, I wasn't fuckin' bored. I'm never bored. That's the trouble with everybody - you're all so bored. You've had nature explained to you and you're bored with it, you've had the living body explained to you and you're bored with it, you've had the universe explained to you and you're bored with it, so now you want cheap thrills and, like, plenty of them, and it doesn't matter how tawdry or vacuous they are as long as it's new as long as it's new as long as it flashes and fuckin' bleeps in forty fuckin' different colors. So whatever else you can say about me, I'm not fuckin' bored.
I'm surprised that this wasn't guessed - it's David Thewliss in "Naked"

7. I really wanna kiss you, man... Well goodnight, man... I love you though... You know that... I do love you.
Again, surprised no one got this one - I thought this was a shoe in for sure. It's River Phoenix to Keanu Reeves in "My Own Private Idaho"

8. ~~[27 Times] You're not a man of God!~~ Guessed by loupgarou1750 as "The Magdalene Sisters"

9. ~~I'm a free man, and I'm going out the front door.~~ Guessed by loupgarou1750 as "In the Name of the Father"

10. Our father would be a 'slippery when schizophrenic' sign, for instance...along the highway of life.
"Igby Goes Doesn"

11. I've looked at so many women. I've seen everything, and felt nothing. But when I look at you, it hurts.
"The Cider House Rules"

12.~~Thank you, Daniel, that is very good to know. But if staying here means working within 10 yards of you, frankly, I'd rather have a job wiping Saddam Hussein's arse.~~ Guessed by djin7 as Bridget Jones' Diary"

13. ~~God whispers into the ears of some men, but he shouts into mine!~~ Guessed by cyane_snape as "Immortal Beloved"

14. Character 1) How do you spell "holiday"?
Character 2) S-H-I-T Guessed by loupgarou1750 as Sid and Nancy

15. ~~When she was born, that's when things went wrong for us.~~ Guessed by synn as "Whale Rider"

Look Who's Got A Permanent Account!!!!

2008-02-24T05:27:42Z

I'm beyond speechless at this gift! Truly I am! Toy, thank you from the bottom of my heart!! You are too good to me, you really are!!!

Thank you, my friend.

Thank you!

Ok, I have never rec'd anything publicly in my life... until now...

2007-12-31T08:23:07Z

This snarry video is nothing short of amazing.... the colors, the jerkiness of it - it's like a long forgotten memory - which is amazing because c'mon, there is only so much snarry footage out there. What she has done with this is, in my opinion, breath taking!

It's done to the song "My Sweet Prince" by Placebo - who stole my heart when they did a remake of "Running Up That Hill"

http://tgin.insanejournal.com/2736.html?view=2736#t2736

Seriously folks, go and view this. You can dl it or watch it on youtube. Just remember to leave her some love!

Man, I have GOT to cut back on the fandom....

2007-12-23T11:01:46Z

No it's no secret that I'm deathly afraid of Spiders. Especially the "Giant House Spider" and the "Wolf Spiders" that we get here in the Northwest.
Google them if you're brave enough (click on images) Ya, those little bastards can RUN!
Anyway, hubby is in bed sleeping and I'm sitting in my room reading ~~porn~~ fandom stuff and out of the corner of my eye I see something black and hairy run past my foot.
I'm thinking to myself "don't look down... do NOT look down"

I look down.

Sitting hext to my foot is the largest fucking house spider I've ever seen IN MY LIFE!

I scream.

Loudly.

I scream again and call for hubby to come. Apparently I screamed "OMG, THERE IS A GIANT HOUSE ELF IN HERE!!! KILL IT, KILL IT!"

Hubby, who is pretty good natured comes to my rescue, laughing pretty hard for someone who has just been woken up by screams.

I'm never going to live this down, am i?

Birthday Wishes and a Snarry drabble.

2007-12-05T23:46:30Z

Happiest of birthdays to the uber talented Empathic Siren!!!

Girrrl, I hope you get spoiled rotten!

Here's a little something I wrote for you....

“For me?” Harry asked, looking over the glow of the candles that topped a sickeningly sweet cake decorated in Gryffindor coloured icing.

“Potter, I am a busy man, blow out the blasted candles and be done with it! I’ve other things to do this evening.”

Harry ignored the snide comment and blew as hard as he could.

He picked up the knife and cut himself a piece and froze as he realized underneath the red and gold icing lay a green cake. A Slytherin green cake!

Severus gathered Harry in his arms.

“Slytherin inside of Gryffindor… what a novel idea.”

Which side of the brain do you think with?

2007-10-13T05:09:57Z

Which way is the girl spinning to you? Clockwise, or Counter Clockwise?

Allegedly, this tells you if you are left or right brained.

THE Right Brain vs Left Brain test ... do you see the dancer turning clockwise or anti-clockwise?

If clockwise, then you use more of the right side of the brain and vice versa.

Most of us would see the dancer turning anti-clockwise though you can try to focus and change the direction; see if you can do it.

LEFT BRAIN FUNCTIONS
uses logic
detail oriented
facts rule
words and language
present and past
math and science
can comprehend
knowing
acknowledges
order/pattern perception
knows object name
reality based
forms strategies
practical
safe

RIGHT BRAIN FUNCTIONS
uses feeling
"big picture" oriented
imagination rules
symbols and images
present and future
philosophy & religion
can "get it" (i.e. meaning)
believes
appreciates
spatial perception
knows object function
fantasy based
presents possibilities
impetuous
risk taking

My entry for the BBTP challenge

2007-09-02T04:44:56Z

This is my entry for the Bring Back the Porn challenge.

The Second Order of Holy Communion

Title: The Second Order of Holy Communion
Author: magic_helmet
Fandom/Pairing: Harry Potter - Severus/Harry
Rating: NC-17
Word Count:1440
Summary: It's been a while since Harry's been to church.
Disclaimer:The world of Harry Potter belong to JK Rowling and Warner Bros. I'm only funning with the boys!
Highlight for Warnings: * Religious themes. May be offensive and/or blasphemous. *
Beta: Thank you to the very patient snapetoy. Girl, you should be sainted.

The Second Order of Holy Communion

“Jesus!” Harry gasped, as a long finger breached his arse roughly.

“Now, now, Potter,” Snape murmured snidely in his ear, “You are in the house of God, you should not be blaspheming so.”

“I’m sorry, it’s just… JESUS!” Harry exclaimed as Snape curled his finger, rubbing it across his prostate.

“You have a vulgar mouth, Potter,” Snape said, hot breath hitting Harry’s ear and making the little hairs stand at attention. “I fear I shall have to correct you for your disrespect.”

“Yeah, disrespect!” Harry murmured. His eyes were closed and his head thrown back, utterly immersed in the pleasure Snape was pulling from him.

Harry groaned as Snape removed his finger. He was so bloody hard it was painful. He looked over his shoulder at Snape, who was glancing around the room, like he was looking for something specific. Harry followed his gaze and noticed an old ratty prayer stool that had definitely seen better days and been obviously been placed here, out of sight, out of mind.

Hands clutched Harry firmly by the shoulders as Severus steered them towards the stool. No easy feat, considering Harry’s pants were down around his ankles, and the resulting shuffling would have seemed comical, had Severus not been quite so hard against his back. He could sense Severus’ frustration at the slow pace, and wasn’t surprised when he squatted down and grabbed Harry by the foot.

“Lift!” he ordered, and Harry complied immediately. Snape pulled the shoe off and flung it across the room before yanking Harry’s leg out of his pants. Severus was obviously in much too much of a hurry to bother with the other leg and Harry’s pants pooled around his ankle, trapped on his leg by his glossy black shoe.

“Kneel,” Snape ordered firmly, and Harry dropped wordlessly onto the prayer stool. “Yes my little alter-boy, you have sinned. But fear not, I shall offer up communion and wash the sin from you.”

Harry was breathing hard as Snape positioned himself in front of his face. He watched as Severus methodically began to undo the buttons on his trousers. The heavy black robes were certainly adding to the atmosphere, and Harry couldn’t suppress a groan when at last Severus’ cock sprang free.

Severus took himself in hand and pushed his cock up against Harry’s face. Severus' cock rubbed down over his nose to his chin, before tracing his lips from left to right and Harry felt his heart spike as he realized Severus was smearing his pre-come across his face in the sign of the cross.

“Do you repent, sinner?” a silky voice asked from above.

“Oh God, I … yes, I repent.” Harry was barely able to speak, and he swallowed nervously as voices sounded outside the door. Oh God, it would be so easy for someone to open the door and find them like this!

“Kiss me…” the voice ordered.

Harry bowed his head, and placed his lips to the end of Severus’s cock. He felt a hand card through his hair gently, and that sultry voice bade him to rise.

Harry rose shakily; he was so aroused he felt like he was vibrating. He stumbled a bit as his socked foot caught in his pants, but Severus reached out a steadying hand.

“Good boy,” Severus said softly, as he moved behind Harry.

Sharp laughter punctuated the air as people walked down the path just outside the closed door, and Harry took a deep breath.

“Severus, I don’t think that…” Harry started, but stopped when Severus, now standing behind him, leaned in to nuzzle his neck.

“Not Severus, you impertinent boy, how dare you refer to me in such a way? You will refer to me as Father,” Severus said as he licked and nibbled at the spot just under Harry’s ear, the spot that made Harry’s knees weak and his cock leak.

Firm hands worked their way under Harry’s shirt, and he groaned and leaned his head against Severus’ shoulder as his nipples were tweaked and pulled, sending delicious messages down to his cock.

Clever hands worked their way down Harry’s torso and, avoiding his cock, ran down Harry’s free leg. Harry felt Snape nudge his knee from behind with his own knee, and Harry allowed his leg to be guided up and onto the prayer stool.

“Keep your leg there, and do not move it,” Severus ordered quietly.

“Yes sir.” Harry replied.

“Yes, Father,” Severus corrected.

“Yes, Father,” Harry said obediently.

Harry was pushed forward slightly, so that he was no longer leaning back onto Severus. He felt vulnerable positioned this way, with one foot on the floor and one leg on the prayer stool. It opened his arse slightly and gave Severus better access. He groaned in pleasure as Severus breeched him easily, as he was still greased and stretched from his morning shag.

“I see that a morning spent on your knees in worship wasn’t enough for you, was it, you filthy boy?” Snape asked, as he wrapped an arm around Harry, holding him tightly so that he could thrust into him with short, hard thrusts. “Was it?!” he repeated when there was no answer.

“No, father,” Harry replied desperately.

“You need a mentor, boy. Someone to take you firmly in hand,” Snape’s hand wrapped around Harry’s cock, “and somebody to show you the path, so that the gates to Heaven may be flung open wide for you.”

Severus was thrusting hard and fast, his hand expertly working Harry’s cock.

“I do this because I am committed, boy.” Severus’ breathing was becoming ragged and uneven, “I am committed to washing the sin out of you!”

“Yes, please, Father. Wash the sin away, make me pure again.” Harry gasped, caught up in the moment.

“Here it comes, child. Take it! Take it, you wicked boy! Filthy, wicked… Arrrrgghhh.” Severus threw back his head and his groan of pleasure echoed around the tiny anteroom.

“Oh fuck me! Fuck me, Father!” Harry exclaimed as his orgasm ripped through him. Rope after rope of hot sticky come flew out of Harry’s cock and onto Severus’ fingers.

The only sound in the room was the heavy breathing of the two men as they leaned against each other for support. In the dimness of the room, each was lost in his own afterglow.

Finally Harry broke the silence. “Well. That was … different,” he said, an air of uncertainty in his voice.

Severus kissed Harry’s ear as he pulled out of him and tucked his now flaccid cock back in his pants. He was silent as he started doing up the numerous buttons.

Harry moved his leg off the prayer stool and stretched languidly before bending over to haul up his pants, when he froze suddenly.

The sound of The Wedding March filled the air.

“OH FUCK!!” Harry exclaimed. “The ceremony’s beginning! Help me! Where the fuck is my other shoe?!?”

He looked around desperately while hauling up his pants, and secured the button before grabbing his coat and trying to tuck his now wrinkled shirt back into his pants and adjusting his tie.

“Don’t just fucking stand there, help me!” he said to Snape who stood leaning against the wall, a lazy smile upon his face.

When Harry realized Snape wasn’t going to help him at all, he muttered “Fuck it” under his breath, and abandoned his search for the missing shoe. He flung the door open and jogged across the row of guests to stand next to Ron, pulling his jacket on and running his fingers through his hair in an haphazard attempt to tame it.

Ron glanced at him. “You’re late, mate! You look in a right state, too! What happened, did a couple of lads rough you up?

The music swelled and Ron turned to look back down the aisle, smiling as Hermione appeared on her fathers arm.

Hermione, however, wasn’t looking at Ron. She was looking at Harry, glaring from his face to his crotch, and Harry put his fingers on his fly and quickly did the zip up. With his tie askew, a shoe missing, and his bloody fly undone for the entire chapel to see, he knew she knew exactly what he’d been up to, and as soon as the vows were said she was going to absolutely kill him.

He knew he was a dead man. Looking over the gathered guests, he spotted Snape hovering at the back of the chapel, near the door. Harry grinned his devilishly crooked grin and thought to himself “Bless me, Father, for I have sinned….”

Fin.

The unveiling of my shiney new journal!

2007-09-01T06:57:37Z

Come on in, please remove your shoes - the carpet is new.

First things first, I must thank ausmac for her unbelievable talent and creativity for this! Thank you so much, you talented creature, you!

I also must thank artisticentropy for not only creating the lovely artwork, but allowing me to use it here!

And last but certainly not least, thanks to murklins for walking me through uploading this. I would still be stumbling around if it wasn't for you.

Thank you, my friends. You are all really bloody good to me!

For those of you who do not like your fics distributed privately...

2007-08-29T05:50:06Z

You might want to take a look at THIS

Now I'm not 100% what is up with this, BUT from what I can see, she has a list of fics - no authors names given, and if you want one of those lovely stories, all you need to do is email her and she'll send it out to you - kind heart that she is.

The thing is, these stories are mostly still being archived, which means that the authors are essentially being cheated out of any feedback they may deserve. And since that is the ONLY form of payment they get for their hard work, that just doesn't sit well with me.

She also had a yahoo group where she will also be sending stories out from.

Now granted, I think she plans on putting the story link of some sort up eventually in her database, however, it looks like instead of giving a direct link, she will provide the story number only (eg AFF.net story # 00000). But for now she is willing to send stories out to anyone who asks.

If you are an author, I urge you to have a look at her list to see if your work is among that being distributed. So far I've seen sansa, tiranog, maeglin_yedi, pir8fancier, knightmare and many more.

I think she's just young and doesn't realize how rude this is to do.

Anyway, I'm just the messenger....

This is my first post here on IJ

2007-08-22T05:34:53Z

... if you don't include the SSHP Prophet, that is.

*waves hello to everyone*

Just posting to:

1. Show off my brand new icon made just for me. *dies*
2. To announce that the SS/HP Prophet is now on IJ as well as GJ and still L(ame) Journal.
Links are here:
IJ http://asylums.insanejournal.com/sshp_prophet/profile
GJ http://www.greatestjournal.com/userinfo.bml?user=sshp_prophet

Please don't be afraid to pimp your work to us. You'll find the email address in every single edition.

We don't want any of your Snarries to slip through the cracks!