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sga_flashficTitle: Clump of Clay
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
severusslave
Rating: Teen
Pairing: McShep
Challenge: School
Beta:maria8475 <3
Summary: John Sheppard enrolled in an art class that originally was to be about oil painting. An easy A or B on his report card. Now though...
John looked spitefully at the chunk of brown clay that lay innocently in front of him on his desk.
He hated it. He hated it so much.
His hate had an intensity so vast he-
He incidentally noticed that his arts teacher looked disapprovingly at him again. A seventeen-year-old John Sheppard sighed and closed his eyes for a second. The first thing he inevitably saw as he opened his eyes again was the potter’s clay.
John hated this clump of clay.
He poked it sharply and invidiously, it still did not look like anything remotely resembling a human’s head. John narrowed his eyes and glared at it. Still not able to see anything in it he looked around the room hoping for inspiration or support.
For a class of students that had originally enrolled in a class on the art of theoretical and practical oil painting, his classmates looked obscenely happy with modelling their clumps of clay.
They were all good at it! Shelley – Was her name Shelley? Susie? Stella? John frowned watching as she put the finishing touches on her clay bust of Albert Einstein. A bust! Of Einstein! Complete with his jumbled mad scientist hair!
He groaned. His own clump of clay didn’t even slightly resemble The Blob®!
John had figured that Abstractism or Surrealism with oil paints would be a no-brainer and would result in an easy A or B on his report card.
John wanted to paint and not press his thumbs into slimy but at the same time too dry clay that was coated in a layer of mold each time he had to unwrap it out of those wet, turquoise paper towels.
John gagged histrionically even at only the memory of the fleecy, white mold.
"John Sheppard! I’ve had it with you, young man!" the shrill voice of Mrs. Hudgins echoed through the classroom.
John had learned not to flinch when she scolded him; she liked that far too much. He grinned at her nonchalantly.
"Why don’t you do-" she went on and not for the first time John was keenly grateful for having read the Peanuts® "-blahblahblah blah blahblah…"
John interrupted her, "It doesn’t like me, Mrs. H. Why can’t I work with oil paints?" He had asked her the exact same question every lesson for three and a half weeks.
Mrs. Hudgins though, had changed her tactics. She glared at John fiercely. He noticed that for the first time she looked truly intimidating. She pointed at his clump of clay and sternly ordered him to "Work!"
She had growled her command. John blinked twice, gulped, turned abruptly towards his abhorred clump of clay and started to work.
+++
It had taken him almost three weeks of art classes spent working solely on his sculpture, but he had managed to coerce the brown, moldy clay into the form of a human head.
He liked it.
Even Mrs. H liked his sculpture. She said something about how unconventional and unique it looked and went on and on how much she liked the hair and the nose and blahblah blah blah blahblah.
John liked its crooked lips.
+++
Today was the first day in almost twenty-one years that John Sheppard thought about the pottery art class he had attended in highschool.
He sucked gently on Rodney's tongue one last time and broke their kiss. He took a step backwards and admired Rodney's wet, swollen, crooked lips.
He leaned in and planted a small peck on Rodney's mouth's crooked corner.
John decided that he liked this version much better.
Author:
severusslaveRating: Teen
Pairing: McShep
Challenge: School
Beta:
maria8475 <3 Summary: John Sheppard enrolled in an art class that originally was to be about oil painting. An easy A or B on his report card. Now though...
John looked spitefully at the chunk of brown clay that lay innocently in front of him on his desk.
He hated it. He hated it so much.
His hate had an intensity so vast he-
He incidentally noticed that his arts teacher looked disapprovingly at him again. A seventeen-year-old John Sheppard sighed and closed his eyes for a second. The first thing he inevitably saw as he opened his eyes again was the potter’s clay.
John hated this clump of clay.
He poked it sharply and invidiously, it still did not look like anything remotely resembling a human’s head. John narrowed his eyes and glared at it. Still not able to see anything in it he looked around the room hoping for inspiration or support.
For a class of students that had originally enrolled in a class on the art of theoretical and practical oil painting, his classmates looked obscenely happy with modelling their clumps of clay.
They were all good at it! Shelley – Was her name Shelley? Susie? Stella? John frowned watching as she put the finishing touches on her clay bust of Albert Einstein. A bust! Of Einstein! Complete with his jumbled mad scientist hair!
He groaned. His own clump of clay didn’t even slightly resemble The Blob®!
John had figured that Abstractism or Surrealism with oil paints would be a no-brainer and would result in an easy A or B on his report card.
John wanted to paint and not press his thumbs into slimy but at the same time too dry clay that was coated in a layer of mold each time he had to unwrap it out of those wet, turquoise paper towels.
John gagged histrionically even at only the memory of the fleecy, white mold.
"John Sheppard! I’ve had it with you, young man!" the shrill voice of Mrs. Hudgins echoed through the classroom.
John had learned not to flinch when she scolded him; she liked that far too much. He grinned at her nonchalantly.
"Why don’t you do-" she went on and not for the first time John was keenly grateful for having read the Peanuts® "-blahblahblah blah blahblah…"
John interrupted her, "It doesn’t like me, Mrs. H. Why can’t I work with oil paints?" He had asked her the exact same question every lesson for three and a half weeks.
Mrs. Hudgins though, had changed her tactics. She glared at John fiercely. He noticed that for the first time she looked truly intimidating. She pointed at his clump of clay and sternly ordered him to "Work!"
She had growled her command. John blinked twice, gulped, turned abruptly towards his abhorred clump of clay and started to work.
+++
It had taken him almost three weeks of art classes spent working solely on his sculpture, but he had managed to coerce the brown, moldy clay into the form of a human head.
He liked it.
Even Mrs. H liked his sculpture. She said something about how unconventional and unique it looked and went on and on how much she liked the hair and the nose and blahblah blah blah blahblah.
John liked its crooked lips.
+++
Today was the first day in almost twenty-one years that John Sheppard thought about the pottery art class he had attended in highschool.
He sucked gently on Rodney's tongue one last time and broke their kiss. He took a step backwards and admired Rodney's wet, swollen, crooked lips.
He leaned in and planted a small peck on Rodney's mouth's crooked corner.
John decided that he liked this version much better.
(no subject)
Date: 2005-11-22 10:18 am (UTC)Great story :D
(no subject)
Date: 2005-11-22 02:08 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-11-22 11:57 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-11-24 11:05 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-11-22 11:25 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-11-22 02:09 pm (UTC)Thanks, Schnuckipuh <3
(no subject)
Date: 2005-11-22 01:24 pm (UTC)John liked its crooked lips.
at this line i just got the BIGGEST grin on my face!
(no subject)
Date: 2005-11-22 02:10 pm (UTC)Hee, yeah, me too! :D
(no subject)
Date: 2005-11-22 01:35 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-11-22 02:11 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-11-22 06:30 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-11-22 06:33 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-11-22 06:35 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-11-22 06:37 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-11-22 06:41 pm (UTC)One thing though, hon, it's just "Peanuts" not The Peanuts.
(no subject)
Date: 2005-11-22 06:58 pm (UTC)Oh, see, here in Germany it's The Peanuts. I'll edit it. *smooch*
(no subject)
Date: 2005-11-22 08:16 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-11-22 08:47 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-11-22 08:17 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-11-22 08:54 pm (UTC)Seriously, this entire scenario is taken out of RL. I had to take that art class. :L I wanted to paint something. I wasn't allowed to. :(
And that blahblahblah thing worked wonders for me in physics, maths and biology. ;P
(no subject)
Date: 2005-11-23 10:40 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-11-24 11:07 am (UTC)Thanks! :D
(no subject)
Date: 2005-11-24 05:15 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-11-24 11:00 am (UTC)That was Great!!! (As usual!)
That was GREAT!!! ^_^ It made me smile SOOooo much I think this *Big Goofy Grin* = permanently Fixed ^_~! Thanx 4 that;D! (Although.... My folks R giving me a really weird look, so I should probably try & devise a way, to stop grinning;P) *Foolishly Gives into temptation & Re-Reads:*
*Gives up Entirely & Floats Away! On a cloud of Stickily Sweet Fluff!! & Ends up Drowning in the CUTE-ness!!!* (But boy, what a wonderful way to go;p *big cheshire cat Grin* ;D!!!)
Thanx Again, & PLZZZ Write MORE!!!
Love Amelia
Re: That was Great!!! (As usual!)
Date: 2006-12-07 01:06 am (UTC)You're so enthusiastic, *loves*!