Entry tags:
main screen turn on
Evil smut bunny!
I am being plagued, beset, tormented by a Clex (Clark/Lex, for the non-smooshing section) smut bunny. My mind's eye keeps playing this image, over and over:
Clark, naked, spread out on Lex's low-slung armchair. Lex, on his knees between Clark's legs, rubbing his cheeks and lips and brow over the fine, dark hairs of Clark's stomach, thighs and groin; inhaling deep draughts of Clark's scent where that hair holds and releases its muskiness; licking away the sweat that dampens the soft curls. But mostly he just turns and dips and rolls his head, feeling Clark from every angle, his own smooth hairlessness against the varying textures of Clark's hair. Eventually he brings a hand up from Clark's thigh to wrap around his erection, stroking lazily while he mouths Clark's balls and tongues the loose skin surrounding them. He's in no hurry, but Clark's body isn't so patient, and abruptly Lex is graced with the world's least necessary scalp conditioning treatment.
I know what you're thinking. What the heck is wrong with having that image in your head, Jack? Have you taken a blow to the head recently? I'll tell you what's wrong with it: I can't write the dang thing. I can describe it, obviously, but that image is worth at least a scene, if not a story, not a mere, measly paragraph. I've tried to write it, too, and it just laughs at me and slips through my numb and butter-fingered grasp. (No, that's not actually butter. Shush.) It's probably just as well, since I still need to beat my two Crayola fics into shape and finish Tham's fisting!Lex story, not to mention the rest of my WIPs that are, at least in theory, closer to the front than the back burners. I don't need yet another bit of fic to add to the pile. If, however, someone else were to flesh (heh) out this insistent little image? I'd be ever so grateful.
Meanwhile, to comfort myself, I fired up my good ol' link to the sublime remix version of All Your Base Are Belong To Us, complete with photomanip video. (Though actually a couple of those are staged, or combinations of staged and Photoshopped, more power to the artists.) Once upon a time I even did my own AYB manip... and I'd show y'all, but there's a naked minor in frame, and unlike some people I really do look horrible in prison orange.
Sigh. Naturally it's not enough to distract me from images of Clark and Lex; now they're just gen images of Clark showing up in the library where Lex is relaxed before his laptop, watching, and Clark asking what's up with the weird music.
"For great justice, Clark. Come on, sit down and I'll start it from the beginning for you."
(Of course Lex has seen it. Lex is a nerd. Or geek, if you prefer. And really, there should be a 'move zig' question on any so-called geek test.)
Incidentally, if you've somehow never seen and/or heard it, click here now for the wacky techno goodness. And hey, click even if you have. Hasn't it been too long?
Take off every 'zig'!
I am being plagued, beset, tormented by a Clex (Clark/Lex, for the non-smooshing section) smut bunny. My mind's eye keeps playing this image, over and over:
Clark, naked, spread out on Lex's low-slung armchair. Lex, on his knees between Clark's legs, rubbing his cheeks and lips and brow over the fine, dark hairs of Clark's stomach, thighs and groin; inhaling deep draughts of Clark's scent where that hair holds and releases its muskiness; licking away the sweat that dampens the soft curls. But mostly he just turns and dips and rolls his head, feeling Clark from every angle, his own smooth hairlessness against the varying textures of Clark's hair. Eventually he brings a hand up from Clark's thigh to wrap around his erection, stroking lazily while he mouths Clark's balls and tongues the loose skin surrounding them. He's in no hurry, but Clark's body isn't so patient, and abruptly Lex is graced with the world's least necessary scalp conditioning treatment.
I know what you're thinking. What the heck is wrong with having that image in your head, Jack? Have you taken a blow to the head recently? I'll tell you what's wrong with it: I can't write the dang thing. I can describe it, obviously, but that image is worth at least a scene, if not a story, not a mere, measly paragraph. I've tried to write it, too, and it just laughs at me and slips through my numb and butter-fingered grasp. (No, that's not actually butter. Shush.) It's probably just as well, since I still need to beat my two Crayola fics into shape and finish Tham's fisting!Lex story, not to mention the rest of my WIPs that are, at least in theory, closer to the front than the back burners. I don't need yet another bit of fic to add to the pile. If, however, someone else were to flesh (heh) out this insistent little image? I'd be ever so grateful.
Meanwhile, to comfort myself, I fired up my good ol' link to the sublime remix version of All Your Base Are Belong To Us, complete with photomanip video. (Though actually a couple of those are staged, or combinations of staged and Photoshopped, more power to the artists.) Once upon a time I even did my own AYB manip... and I'd show y'all, but there's a naked minor in frame, and unlike some people I really do look horrible in prison orange.
Sigh. Naturally it's not enough to distract me from images of Clark and Lex; now they're just gen images of Clark showing up in the library where Lex is relaxed before his laptop, watching, and Clark asking what's up with the weird music.
"For great justice, Clark. Come on, sit down and I'll start it from the beginning for you."
(Of course Lex has seen it. Lex is a nerd. Or geek, if you prefer. And really, there should be a 'move zig' question on any so-called geek test.)
Incidentally, if you've somehow never seen and/or heard it, click here now for the wacky techno goodness. And hey, click even if you have. Hasn't it been too long?
Take off every 'zig'!