hackthis_archive (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
hackthis_archive) wrote2002-12-14 06:23 pm
hackthis_archive) wrote2002-12-14 06:23 pm
Z is for Zahra who was stabbed with a rake
I haven’t done this in a while. I might need my head examined.
SV: The Aesthetic Side of Things
It was the day that Lex wore the argyle socks that Clark found himself in trouble, he thinks.
Clark has always thought Lex reminded him of his cars: fast, sleek, shiny. Of course, they were the obvious attributes that everyone saw; and the socks that Lex wore on this particular day were unique though. Clark couldn’t ever remember Lex wearing anything but solid colors before. The socks were special, like Lex. They covered slim ankles with their black and purple patterns, and they were just so different. Carefully exposed between black pants and shiny shoes, winking at Clark and calling for his notice.
Clark didn’t know what to say. They were socks, and it would be so strange if he complemented Lex on his socks out of all the possibilities. Flawless skin and sharp eyes, long fingers tapping against a glass desk were the obvious points, and Clark never would have noticed the socks if he hadn’t dropped Lex’s pen. But there Clark was, on his hands and knees under Lex’s desk, and there were these socks, and they were so unexpected. Clark wanted to touch them.
And that was when Clark realized that he might have feelings for Lex that had nothing to do with friendship, because he was absolutely enamored of Lex’s socks and all those other little things that he never noticed before. And if Lex wore argyle socks then he might wear jeans as well, and tennis shoes and sweatshirts and lots of other things that Clark never thought of. It really didn’t matter if Lex ran around in a garbage bag with his feet covered in plastic bags. His clothes and his socks were just these things, and it was then that Clark understood: no matter what Lex wore, Clark would think he was beautiful.
HP: The Aesthetic Side of Things
Draco has a very slim definition of beauty, the kind the glamour spells are at a loss to create: his mother with her trim figure and his father with his long blonde hair. Photographs of him when he was smaller and his mother would parade him in his newest robes for her friends.
Draco has always been told that beauty comes from money and privilege and lineage and blood. Beauty comes from being right when others are wrong and the look of horror on Granger’s face when Draco insults her.
Draco finds beauty in plants that bring death and Slytherin colors flying high in the Great Hall.
He doesn't think his view is skewed.
There is no beauty in fingernails chewed to the quick with dirt ground underneath. And Draco’s aesthetic sensibilities are horrified by Potter covered in mud after Quidditch practise and the puddle he tracks along after him. There is nothing beautiful about Harry Potter and his heroic ways, but there’s something fascinating about his eyes which is only enhanced by his mud-spattered glasses. Potter's eyes are dull and ordinary, but the green is luminous and it makes Draco's throat go dry.
And for a very brief moment, Draco almost reconsiders his definition of beauty.
SV: The Aesthetic Side of Things
It was the day that Lex wore the argyle socks that Clark found himself in trouble, he thinks.
Clark has always thought Lex reminded him of his cars: fast, sleek, shiny. Of course, they were the obvious attributes that everyone saw; and the socks that Lex wore on this particular day were unique though. Clark couldn’t ever remember Lex wearing anything but solid colors before. The socks were special, like Lex. They covered slim ankles with their black and purple patterns, and they were just so different. Carefully exposed between black pants and shiny shoes, winking at Clark and calling for his notice.
Clark didn’t know what to say. They were socks, and it would be so strange if he complemented Lex on his socks out of all the possibilities. Flawless skin and sharp eyes, long fingers tapping against a glass desk were the obvious points, and Clark never would have noticed the socks if he hadn’t dropped Lex’s pen. But there Clark was, on his hands and knees under Lex’s desk, and there were these socks, and they were so unexpected. Clark wanted to touch them.
And that was when Clark realized that he might have feelings for Lex that had nothing to do with friendship, because he was absolutely enamored of Lex’s socks and all those other little things that he never noticed before. And if Lex wore argyle socks then he might wear jeans as well, and tennis shoes and sweatshirts and lots of other things that Clark never thought of. It really didn’t matter if Lex ran around in a garbage bag with his feet covered in plastic bags. His clothes and his socks were just these things, and it was then that Clark understood: no matter what Lex wore, Clark would think he was beautiful.
HP: The Aesthetic Side of Things
Draco has a very slim definition of beauty, the kind the glamour spells are at a loss to create: his mother with her trim figure and his father with his long blonde hair. Photographs of him when he was smaller and his mother would parade him in his newest robes for her friends.
Draco has always been told that beauty comes from money and privilege and lineage and blood. Beauty comes from being right when others are wrong and the look of horror on Granger’s face when Draco insults her.
Draco finds beauty in plants that bring death and Slytherin colors flying high in the Great Hall.
He doesn't think his view is skewed.
There is no beauty in fingernails chewed to the quick with dirt ground underneath. And Draco’s aesthetic sensibilities are horrified by Potter covered in mud after Quidditch practise and the puddle he tracks along after him. There is nothing beautiful about Harry Potter and his heroic ways, but there’s something fascinating about his eyes which is only enhanced by his mud-spattered glasses. Potter's eyes are dull and ordinary, but the green is luminous and it makes Draco's throat go dry.
And for a very brief moment, Draco almost reconsiders his definition of beauty.
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How do you think of these things? I cannot wait to get to the west coast and pick your brain.
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*wanders off to buy argyle socks*
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Argyle, I have it on excellent authority, is an aphrodisiac. It only works on people who are suppressing an existing attraction, but those individuals will find themselves positively arrested by the hint of argyle. Clark's just lucky Lex isn't wearing any paisley. Depending on how you define lucky, of course.
Potter's eyes are dull and ordinary, but the green is luminous and it makes Draco's throat go dry.
Can I just say, I saw the second movie this week, and...*guh.* Boys that young should not look that attractive to me. I had to keep sublimating onto Lucius. Considering how much I liked him, it got rather embarrassing.
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Aw!
You realize you're just fueling my Inappropriate Appreciation of Lex's feet, right? ;)
This is *charming*. Cla-ark's in lo-ove... *g*
Re: Aw!
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Z is for Zahra who was stabbed with a rake
Squeee! I LOVE the Gashlycrumb Tinies. My absolute favourite one is "O is for Olive run through with an awl." because it looks like she's just tossing it in the air for fun while she's playing in the backyard (although "B is for Basil assaulted by bears" and "N is for Neville who died of ennui" crack me up too).
OK, just read the fic - very sweet vignette. You'll give Clark a foot fetish yet. :)
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You are my hero.
I can't wait to finish this slash The Slashers thing, so I can get back to writing HP.
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Lovely.
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Awwww
Of course he is! Oh Zahra, both of these are just completely fabulous!
Re: Awwww