if HP was a drug, it'd be class A.
Sep. 6th, 2002 12:08 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
hackthis_archiveAmazingly beautiful story for me by my CM, groovy conversation with Lar, hysterical fic from ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
andariell, and some seriously Zen moments in the last twelve hours.
I will beg for HP icons.. I AM begging for HP icons: Oliver, Ron, Draco, Seamus, Dean, Neville, Hermione, Harry. What. the. fuck. ever.
Welcome to the new age.
On the Surface
for the very lovelyaddictedkitten - sara, I understand that you’re making icons in exchange for fic. Consider this me begging. There can be more you know. *g*
Oliver’s attraction to Harry Potter has nothing to do with magic or fame or anything so callous and simple. Sometimes he wishes it did. If it was merely a schoolboy crush then he could simply embrace it and be done with it, but no. It would never be that simple because Oliver has his own fame - being Quidditch captain is nothing to turn ones nose at - he doesn’t need Harry’s.
Oliver’s desire goes deeper than averted eyes and flushed cheeks. Besides Harry would never look away. Oliver has never seen Harry look away from anyone, ever – and he’s been observing *very* closely. Oliver knows all about the crooked spectacles that perch on Harry’s wee nose and the mass of black hair that’s worse than his mum’s patch of raven’s weed. It’s not about looks, at least not the ones on the surface.
Oliver could shag anybody.
He’s not blind; he’s seen how girls look at him… how boys look at him, but they’re not what he wants. Correction: they’re not the ones he wants. Oliver wants Harry Potter, not for the legend but for the boy underneath. Oliver sees the determination and the loyalty. Harry is more than a bedtime story and a name to invoke during conversations about You Know Who. Harry Potter lives, he’s flesh and blood and he’s alive.
Oliver has never met anyone as alive as Harry.
Harry is so alive that he glows and breathes, and Oliver just wants to touch him, to feel him. Oliver wants to live like that. If he can’t, he’s more than content to live through association. Oliver *wants* Harry. He can understand the adoring first years and the keen fifth years, but there’s more to *his* attraction than that. When Oliver looks at Harry, he sees so much potential.
So much to want.
Harry does it all, gets away with even more, and while Oliver’s not jealous he desperately wants to join in. He wants to be a part of the action. Oliver wants to be on the receiving of more smiles and secret grins and the like. It’s true that they share Quidditch and practice – double practices since Oliver’s become aware of his infatuation – but Oliver wants *more*. Oliver could have anything from anyone without effort, but he suspects – no, he knows that he would have to prove this to Harry.
Courting Harry Potter would take effort, Oliver would have to try. He likes that idea. He likes the idea of earning Harry, of being able to say that *he* is the one that is worthy of the Boy Who Lived. Egotistic, yes, but very real.
Everything comes so easily to Oliver, he knows Harry wouldn’t. And some would say that there’s no justification on Merlin’s earth for a 16 year-old boy to fancy someone three years his junior. But they would be wrong. Oliver isn’t just anybody and Harry isn’t just *somebody*. It’s not *wrong*. Practice with Harry isn’t wrong. Flying over to adjust his hold on his broom or to applaud his technique isn’t wrong. It’s right. *They* could be right.
They could be amazing.
Rug Burn
I’m so friggin sad. Schmoop inspired byserrico and tresca. With a shoutout to rosenho - haven't y'all read 'Sixteenish' yet?
Lex collects fetishes like most people accrue nervous habits. He doesn’t have a list of them anywhere – at least not anymore – but he's on good terms with most of them. There are his typical fetishes concerning leather and silk and handcuffs, and then the more interesting ones involving food and public locales and police cars.
‘To each their own’ has been Lex’s unofficial motto for quite some time, and yet, he’s hard pressed to recall any sort of fetish involving bare feet and Haggen-Daaz.
Clark is already responsible for fetishes 144 through 206; and Lex wonders if his desire to fuck Clark on the steps of the castle qualifies as a fetish or just wishful thinking. Of course, the only way to be certain is to actually go ahead with said idea, and then decide if it should happen on a more regular basis. Like every damn day. Lex will make a point of doing so, right after he convinces Clark that being barefoot for the rest of his life is an excellent idea and that being Lex's live-in-lover is the wave of Clark's future.
Lex’ll make sure to toss it out as soon as he’s done with his ice cream.
It's irrelevant that Lex doesn’t recall having a foot fetish when he woke up this morning. After all, when Lex woke up this morning he was in his bed alone, and now he’s sitting on the floor of his TV room stretched out alongside Clark ruining his dinner by having ice cream. Although in their defense it is vanilla, chocolate would be indefensible.
“I suppose I should be thankful that your feet don’t smell.”
“I’m a teenage boy, Lex, not a Neanderthal. I do have some sense of hygiene. ” Of course he does, besides, if Clark was a Neanderthal there would be less clothing involved; and no, Lex is not thinking about how exciting that thought is at this moment.
“I remember when I was your age—“
“I didn’t know your memory stretched that far back, old timer. Before I forget, do you want some help with that ice cream? I know how the elderly are.”
“Keep your spoon to yourself, whippersnapper.”
“Whippersnapper? Lex, I didn’t know you spoke Country Western.”
Lex speaks all kinds of languages; maybe if Clark’s nice to him he’ll teach him a few. Starting with French naturally, moving onwards to the Kama Sutra and the like… like Lex was having a thought but Clark has ice cream on his nose.
Lex can be forgiven for losing his train of thought.
“I like your carpeting, it’s soft.”
Soft carpeting? What, are they buying a new home; and why is Clark so fascinated with Lex’s carpeting anyway? He’s running his feet back and forth on it like it’s a cheap thrill. A cheap *friction* thrill. Ah, Lex sees it now, but he has to note that all carpeting gives rug burns just the same.
Shag or not.
“Are they depriving you of carpeting at the farm, Clark?”
“What, no, why?”
“Well, you seem so taken with mine that I was a bit concerned. You know if you keep rubbing your feet on the carpeting that way you’ll get rug burn.”
“I didn’t know you could get rug burn.”
“It’s nothing to write home about, I can assure you of that.” It may be something to visit the infirmary over but nothing more.
“I can’t imagine you writing home about much of anything, Lex.”
“Well, I never had much to report on. My father had plenty of spies to keep him informed of my activities and dalliances.” And nights spent shagging random boys after polo practice.
“Speaking of home, I suspect your mother will be less than impressed if I send you back to her with ice cream on your nose.”
“I have ice cream on my nose?”
“I don’t recall there being an echo in this room.”
“Could you get it off?” Of course, because Clark can’t wipe his own nose and get his cheap friction thrills at the same time. The things Lex does for a friend.
“Not big on the multi-tasking, Clark?”
“Not when I have friends like you to take care of that sort of thing for me.” Lex doesn’t remember reading anything about this sort of responsibility in the Friends of Clark Kent Handbook.
“It’s not coming off.”
“Well, maybe you could lick it off?”
Lick. Clark?
“Pardon?”
“It was just an idea.”
“An. Idea.” Jesus H. Christ. Clark just asked Lex to lick him and he doesn’t even have the decency to look bashful about it. And why is he licking his lips that way? The ice cream isn’t down there, *that’s* certainly not going to help matters… unless Clark’s tongue is in the same league as Gene Simmons.
This was definitely not in the Clark Kent Handbook.
“I see, and do you have any other *ideas* regarding ice cream removal?”
“Well, yeah, but you’d have to take off your shirt first.”
“I would.” Lex has never heard of reasoning like this in his life.
“It would help to prevent the rug burn.”
“Rug *burn*, Clark?” Lex hates it when his voice cracks. That should’ve stopped along with puberty.
“I’m just looking out for your best interests, Lex. The ice cream removal could get dangerous.”
“I see. You know, if you wanted me naked, you could’ve just said something.”
“Yeah, but then there’d be no ice cream.”
-finis-
andariell, and some seriously Zen moments in the last twelve hours. Welcome to the new age.
On the Surface
for the very lovely
addictedkitten - sara, I understand that you’re making icons in exchange for fic. Consider this me begging. There can be more you know. *g*Oliver’s attraction to Harry Potter has nothing to do with magic or fame or anything so callous and simple. Sometimes he wishes it did. If it was merely a schoolboy crush then he could simply embrace it and be done with it, but no. It would never be that simple because Oliver has his own fame - being Quidditch captain is nothing to turn ones nose at - he doesn’t need Harry’s.
Oliver’s desire goes deeper than averted eyes and flushed cheeks. Besides Harry would never look away. Oliver has never seen Harry look away from anyone, ever – and he’s been observing *very* closely. Oliver knows all about the crooked spectacles that perch on Harry’s wee nose and the mass of black hair that’s worse than his mum’s patch of raven’s weed. It’s not about looks, at least not the ones on the surface.
Oliver could shag anybody.
He’s not blind; he’s seen how girls look at him… how boys look at him, but they’re not what he wants. Correction: they’re not the ones he wants. Oliver wants Harry Potter, not for the legend but for the boy underneath. Oliver sees the determination and the loyalty. Harry is more than a bedtime story and a name to invoke during conversations about You Know Who. Harry Potter lives, he’s flesh and blood and he’s alive.
Oliver has never met anyone as alive as Harry.
Harry is so alive that he glows and breathes, and Oliver just wants to touch him, to feel him. Oliver wants to live like that. If he can’t, he’s more than content to live through association. Oliver *wants* Harry. He can understand the adoring first years and the keen fifth years, but there’s more to *his* attraction than that. When Oliver looks at Harry, he sees so much potential.
So much to want.
Harry does it all, gets away with even more, and while Oliver’s not jealous he desperately wants to join in. He wants to be a part of the action. Oliver wants to be on the receiving of more smiles and secret grins and the like. It’s true that they share Quidditch and practice – double practices since Oliver’s become aware of his infatuation – but Oliver wants *more*. Oliver could have anything from anyone without effort, but he suspects – no, he knows that he would have to prove this to Harry.
Courting Harry Potter would take effort, Oliver would have to try. He likes that idea. He likes the idea of earning Harry, of being able to say that *he* is the one that is worthy of the Boy Who Lived. Egotistic, yes, but very real.
Everything comes so easily to Oliver, he knows Harry wouldn’t. And some would say that there’s no justification on Merlin’s earth for a 16 year-old boy to fancy someone three years his junior. But they would be wrong. Oliver isn’t just anybody and Harry isn’t just *somebody*. It’s not *wrong*. Practice with Harry isn’t wrong. Flying over to adjust his hold on his broom or to applaud his technique isn’t wrong. It’s right. *They* could be right.
They could be amazing.
Rug Burn
I’m so friggin sad. Schmoop inspired by
serrico and tresca. With a shoutout to rosenho - haven't y'all read 'Sixteenish' yet?Lex collects fetishes like most people accrue nervous habits. He doesn’t have a list of them anywhere – at least not anymore – but he's on good terms with most of them. There are his typical fetishes concerning leather and silk and handcuffs, and then the more interesting ones involving food and public locales and police cars.
‘To each their own’ has been Lex’s unofficial motto for quite some time, and yet, he’s hard pressed to recall any sort of fetish involving bare feet and Haggen-Daaz.
Clark is already responsible for fetishes 144 through 206; and Lex wonders if his desire to fuck Clark on the steps of the castle qualifies as a fetish or just wishful thinking. Of course, the only way to be certain is to actually go ahead with said idea, and then decide if it should happen on a more regular basis. Like every damn day. Lex will make a point of doing so, right after he convinces Clark that being barefoot for the rest of his life is an excellent idea and that being Lex's live-in-lover is the wave of Clark's future.
Lex’ll make sure to toss it out as soon as he’s done with his ice cream.
It's irrelevant that Lex doesn’t recall having a foot fetish when he woke up this morning. After all, when Lex woke up this morning he was in his bed alone, and now he’s sitting on the floor of his TV room stretched out alongside Clark ruining his dinner by having ice cream. Although in their defense it is vanilla, chocolate would be indefensible.
“I suppose I should be thankful that your feet don’t smell.”
“I’m a teenage boy, Lex, not a Neanderthal. I do have some sense of hygiene. ” Of course he does, besides, if Clark was a Neanderthal there would be less clothing involved; and no, Lex is not thinking about how exciting that thought is at this moment.
“I remember when I was your age—“
“I didn’t know your memory stretched that far back, old timer. Before I forget, do you want some help with that ice cream? I know how the elderly are.”
“Keep your spoon to yourself, whippersnapper.”
“Whippersnapper? Lex, I didn’t know you spoke Country Western.”
Lex speaks all kinds of languages; maybe if Clark’s nice to him he’ll teach him a few. Starting with French naturally, moving onwards to the Kama Sutra and the like… like Lex was having a thought but Clark has ice cream on his nose.
Lex can be forgiven for losing his train of thought.
“I like your carpeting, it’s soft.”
Soft carpeting? What, are they buying a new home; and why is Clark so fascinated with Lex’s carpeting anyway? He’s running his feet back and forth on it like it’s a cheap thrill. A cheap *friction* thrill. Ah, Lex sees it now, but he has to note that all carpeting gives rug burns just the same.
Shag or not.
“Are they depriving you of carpeting at the farm, Clark?”
“What, no, why?”
“Well, you seem so taken with mine that I was a bit concerned. You know if you keep rubbing your feet on the carpeting that way you’ll get rug burn.”
“I didn’t know you could get rug burn.”
“It’s nothing to write home about, I can assure you of that.” It may be something to visit the infirmary over but nothing more.
“I can’t imagine you writing home about much of anything, Lex.”
“Well, I never had much to report on. My father had plenty of spies to keep him informed of my activities and dalliances.” And nights spent shagging random boys after polo practice.
“Speaking of home, I suspect your mother will be less than impressed if I send you back to her with ice cream on your nose.”
“I have ice cream on my nose?”
“I don’t recall there being an echo in this room.”
“Could you get it off?” Of course, because Clark can’t wipe his own nose and get his cheap friction thrills at the same time. The things Lex does for a friend.
“Not big on the multi-tasking, Clark?”
“Not when I have friends like you to take care of that sort of thing for me.” Lex doesn’t remember reading anything about this sort of responsibility in the Friends of Clark Kent Handbook.
“It’s not coming off.”
“Well, maybe you could lick it off?”
Lick. Clark?
“Pardon?”
“It was just an idea.”
“An. Idea.” Jesus H. Christ. Clark just asked Lex to lick him and he doesn’t even have the decency to look bashful about it. And why is he licking his lips that way? The ice cream isn’t down there, *that’s* certainly not going to help matters… unless Clark’s tongue is in the same league as Gene Simmons.
This was definitely not in the Clark Kent Handbook.
“I see, and do you have any other *ideas* regarding ice cream removal?”
“Well, yeah, but you’d have to take off your shirt first.”
“I would.” Lex has never heard of reasoning like this in his life.
“It would help to prevent the rug burn.”
“Rug *burn*, Clark?” Lex hates it when his voice cracks. That should’ve stopped along with puberty.
“I’m just looking out for your best interests, Lex. The ice cream removal could get dangerous.”
“I see. You know, if you wanted me naked, you could’ve just said something.”
“Yeah, but then there’d be no ice cream.”
-finis-
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
You know...
Date: 2002-09-06 12:26 pm (UTC)Re: You know...
nnnggghhh...
Date: 2002-09-06 12:45 pm (UTC)Must go find my drool bib, now. Please 'scuse me ;-)
Re: nnnggghhh...
i must go dance now.
no subject
Date: 2002-09-06 12:53 pm (UTC)'scuse me, have to hunt down some ice cream...
----
scy
where's my %
Date: 2002-09-06 02:09 pm (UTC)Re: where's my %
Date: 2002-09-06 07:39 pm (UTC)indeed they do.
*begins planning a stern letter writing campaign*
----
scy
no subject
Date: 2002-09-06 02:01 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2002-09-06 02:10 pm (UTC)as long as you don't get cavities, it's okay by me! *g*
no subject
Date: 2002-09-06 02:18 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2002-09-06 03:29 pm (UTC)i find water works for me. a lot of it. generally in the form of a freezing cold shower.
Whee! Barefoot prelude to smut!
Date: 2002-09-06 02:35 pm (UTC)Still. Niiiiiice footfic. ;)
"I see. You know, if you wanted me naked, you could've just said something."
"Yeah, but then there'd be no ice cream."
*snerk* Ah, Clark's a man who knows what he wants--and he wants it all!
Although, y'know, I've never really had Lex pegged as a vanilla lover.
Of course, I'm talking about ice cream. *eg*
Re: Whee! Barefoot prelude to smut!
Date: 2002-09-06 03:37 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2002-09-06 03:25 pm (UTC)I can definitely see how Lex became president! With a plan like that, who *wouldn't* vote for him?
*running off to find some ice cream* Because dayum, it's hot in here now and I have a sudden hunger for it for some odd reason... ;)
no subject
Date: 2002-09-06 03:38 pm (UTC)Re:
Date: 2002-09-09 10:56 pm (UTC)If they want to :-D
no subject
Date: 2002-09-06 11:14 pm (UTC)Eee! Harry/Oliver! And it's Oliver's perspective, which I've never seen. You're so innovative. This was just so on, and totally something I can see Oliver thinking. Wanting Harry like this. Yes, wonderful. A fine gift from a lovely writer. :-D I do not deserve such glorious things.
And! Then you have to go and write such adorable Clark/Lex. Lex and his fetishes! I just love this. I have a *ahem* fetish for fetish fics. And Clark! And his bare feet! And the ice cream! I think this is all of secret plot of yours to get me to abuse exclamation points. Because I love this! So much! And I'm just sitting here grinning. A lot. Yes.
no subject
Date: 2002-09-08 11:45 am (UTC)::pauses:: were you always this evil? is this kassie and i rubbing off on you? really. i have you to blame for all the oliver/harry thoughts running around in my brain. tis terrible. *vbg*
I do not deserve such glorious things.
pfft. course you do!
no subject
Date: 2002-09-07 08:26 pm (UTC)Thank you for that.
Fetishes, hm... Love your boys.
no subject
Date: 2002-09-08 11:46 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2002-09-09 12:28 pm (UTC)um. righto. no h/o from me, right?
ok, because this is an *idea*
/It would never be that simple because Oliver has his own fame - being Quidditch captain is nothing to turn ones nose at - he doesn’t need Harry’s./
I mean, when you have glory, you don't need the reflected kind. Obviously what you're saying, but it's a subtle thought. One that might occur to Harry too.
/Oliver has never seen Harry look away from anyone, ever/
Harry is a starer, yes. This I can see. There is power in the stare-down.
/ Harry is more than a bedtime story /
this is full of gems. oddly enough, you normally like to explain things not give one-liners. except when I *want* the explanation, apparently. *points finger* This is a line to build a whole story around, girl.
/Harry does it all, gets away with even more, and while Oliver’s not jealous he desperately wants to join in. He wants to be a part of the action. Oliver wants to be on the receiving of more smiles and secret grins and the like./
well, I'll be goddamned! No wonder you're obsessed. Look what you're making here! Expand this story into a whole thing, because you have so much to work with here. Shit, I love this passage.
You need to set this after Oliver finishes school, though. I am down with the H/O love, but please don't have a 13 yr old buttfucking, ok?
err yeah.
Date: 2002-09-09 12:42 pm (UTC)all these little oliver/harry bits are just things that i suspect will go in the larger piece. yes, larger piece. no, not kassie-epic but more like *something*. there's just too much potential, you know?
and yes, i quite ardently see that this has to be after oliver leaves school, i was at the bus stop this morning. sorting out oliver coming back to watch harry play just b/c, well, b/c he's slightly obsessed. nothing wrong there.