hackthis_archive (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
hackthis_archive) wrote2003-09-03 11:28 am
hackthis_archive) wrote2003-09-03 11:28 am
“The more I like me, the less I want to be other people.”
Excuse me, I’m having a moment. It appears that my girl (![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
ethrosdemon) is on board the OC bandwagon. This is like finding out you and your dealer share the same therapist for real. (Or vice versa)
Also, last night’s OC? No words. Well except for these. Dedicated to my girl and tokormanfan for showing the love.
Smallville/OC
Also Known As
Lucas got the name Donnie from Donnie Brasco.
It was the movie he had been watching with Stevie and Knucklehead before he found out about Lex. They’d been playing spades, and he’d been up at least $200 when the movie ended, and they’d switched back to regular cable.
Lex was all over every station that wasn’t showing porn or cartoons, and Lucas hadn’t even blinked. Instead he’d finished playing cards, winning more than $300 in cash, plus a new watch, a dime bag and a date with Knucklehead’s sister, Veronica.
After his boys left, Lucas went into the kitchen, grabbed himself a 40 oz. that he wasn’t legal to buy, and sat back down on the leather sofa that reminded him of the time he’d had sex in the coat closet of this club.
He lit a joint, and turned on CNN to find out what the fuck had happened.
*
He had been in Malibu for almost three months when Lex’s plane went down.
It was the second move that Lex had forced him to make, and Lucas had been less than pleased about leaving Seattle, but whatever. Lex had definitely hooked him up well, even if Lucas stuck out like a sore thumb. His crib was tight like those on MTV, and Lex had even promised him a new bike for his birthday. Not that Lucas couldn’t have gotten his own, but since Lex had refused to let him work, and he’d promised he wouldn’t do anything to draw attention to himself, Lucas had been wheel-less.
He had found himself with nothing to do and all this time to kill, so he made friends of his own.
Like gravitates to like and even in the richest places in the country, Lucas could find someone to hang out with. That was how he’d met Stevie, Joe, Jamie, Knucklehead and Ramon.
*
Lucas could’ve chosen Lefty of Joey or Sonny or something, but he felt more like a Donnie, so that’s who he became.
It wasn’t the first time Lucas had been known by something other than his given name: in Gotham he was Kevin, his foster mom in Center City had always referred to him as ‘you bastard,’ and his second time in Metropolis – the one before he met Lex – he was Robert. Lucas had never been a Robert in his life, and Bobby wasn’t any better, but that hadn’t really been the point.
Hell, Lex had made him over as Alex Jones, and Lucas was definite not an Alex.
Lucas was always going to be Lucas, no matter what the hell people called him or what his last name was or wasn’t.
*
Lucas watched the news for almost six hours that night, waiting for some word or another, but he knew the truth long before anybody dared to say anything.
He hadn’t been depending on Lex or anything. Lucas knew better, but now that there was nobody paying the rent on his crib, and nobody protecting him, it was only a matter of time before the old man found him.
So Lucas did was came naturally. He made a few calls and hocked the stuff that Lex had paid for.
He packed the clothes that had been his, appropriated a suitable bike from that dude down the street that he’d never liked, and a few hours later Donnie Alexander wound up down the coast in the OC looking for a job.
-end-
You know I had to go there. And also, for the woobiest woobie that was ever on FOX (FYI: that's Seth, not Donnie. Kassie, Shut. Up)
The OC
Faking It (False Confidence)
Faking so much confidence and bravado takes a lot out of man, and Seth knows it’s bad when he doesn’t even try to convince Ryan to let him drive them home from the hospital. Seth is always looking for a chance to drive the 745i because talk about a sweet car, but tonight, he’d so rather be asleep and drooling on the backseat.
Maybe Seth isn’t cut out to be in charge.
He slides into the passenger seat mutely, and fastens his seat belt without a second thought. KROQ is playing the new one from Rooney that he’s desperately been trying to get Ryan to listen to, but instead of pointing this out, Seth rests his head against the window and lets the air conditioning wash over him like a cold shower.
He feels like he should say something, apologize for all the shit that’s gone down this week, but all he’s wanted to do is help.
He tried to hook up Ryan with Marissa because that’s what Ryan wants, and he’s tried to get along with the people he thought Ryan liked. He’s bought movie tickets, left Ryan alone and all but hired himself out as Ryan’s personal slave. Seth always thought that would involve fewer clothes, but he just wants Ryan to be happy with him and his parents.
Seth just wants to make Ryan happy, period.
He’s never thought that it would be so hard, but maybe the problem is that he keeps trying to make Ryan happy with other people.
Maybe Seth should just be himself.
Out the corner of his eye, he studies Ryan’s profile in the blue light from the dashboard. Ryan's nose has obviously been broken one or twice, and his lips are kind of thin. They’re moving soundlessly, and Ryan might actually be singing along with the radio.
Under normal circumstances, this would leave him open for great ridicule from Seth’s glee, but right now Seth is just too tired and confused to say anything. He can’t figure out what the hell he’s supposed to do, and he’s tired of making it up as he goes along.
*
For the record, Seth would like to point out that he has plenty of confidence.
Okay, none of his confidence is in relation to other people, but he can so ride his skateboard without eating the pavement. He can hold his own in the half pipe, and he’s wicked at Grand Theft Auto and Animatrix. He can drive his mom’s Range Rover without hitting anybody, and it getting trashed wasn’t really his fault at all. Except that he took it up to Long Beach knowing that it wasn’t a good idea, but whatever. He was just asserting his masculinity and his right to do what he wants when he wants. Isn’t that what confidence is all about? Isn’ t that what he’s supposed to do at his age?
The thing about it having confidence, though, is that Seth could probably do with a little more, because confidence is like condoms and he can never have too many of those. Not that Seth has ever used a condom for anything besides a water balloon, but that’s kind of irrelevant at this point, because at least Seth is trying.
He knows Anna was right.
Seth knows that he should be more confident. Faint heart never won the girl or the guy, and when he walked Anna home and she hugged him at the door, he was kinda confused.
He had done everything she told him to, and still he hadn’t scored. Before she shut the door in his face, though, she told him that he should try some of his newfound confidence on Ryan, and that had pretty much left him speechless. He was totally smoother than that, except that Anna so knew he wasn’t.
So he tried to do what she suggested, and look where it got him: the hospital, abandoned down at the beach, and associating with the likes of Donnie.
What the hell was he thinking anyway?
Oh, that’s right, he wasn’t thinking at all, because at least Donnie kinda paid attention to him, which was better than following Ryan around like a puppy waiting to be kicked.
Seth knows that he’s not being fair. Ryan never asked for Seth to follow him around, and he obviously doesn’t need Seth to help hook him up with Marissa, but what makes her so much better than Seth? He dad is a criminal! Mr and Mrs Cooper never would’ve let Ryan stay with them, and doesn’t that count for anything? Is it because Marissa is Miss Popularity and everybody loves her and she has this massive ego? Actually, that’s wrong, Seth knows Marissa doesn’t have an ego, but she does have confidence, and it seems to be a natural thing, not something that can be taught.
*
Seth shifts in his seat. Thom Yorke is doing that scratchy, whispering thing he calls singing, and Seth would beg to differ. He feels a lot and it is so all there.
Seth feels like he should be more confident, and that Ryan should notice his efforts. Seth feels like he shouldn’t play second best to anybody, even though he’s afraid he always will. He knows that he’s not Marissa. He knows he’ll never be popular and super confident in a room full of people, but he’s smart, and snarky, and damnit, he probably read Kerouac first.
“What’s so great about Marissa anyway?” he blurts out over the radio. “I mean yeah she’s a girl, and she’s got breasts… and things, but she can’t skateboard, and she’s whiny. She needs to eat like fifty Big Macs, too. Plus, she was dating Luke, and talk about bad taste. I mean anybody could do better than that, and you deserve better, too.”
Seth’s brain finally catches up with his mouth, and his tirade ends just as quickly as it’s begun, but it’s too late. Before Seth can even think about playing it off, Ryan’s pulling the car onto the shoulder of the road and turning off the engine all while Seth begins banging his head on the dashboard.
Bam.
It hurts. He’ll probably have knots in the morning. Serves him right. Bam.
He flinches slightly at the feel of Ryan’s hand on his shoulder, but since he’s already stepped in it, he might as well keep going. Bam.
“I know I’m not all cool and mysterious and James Dean, or flirty and girlie, but I didn’t think you would ditch me so fast,” Seth says.
Bam.
“Seth, stop it.”
Seth pauses, looks over at Ryan who’s just so hot, and so not into him, and he bangs his head on the dashboard, again. Bam.
“Seth.”
“Don’t mind me, I’ve just decided since I’m going to be grounded into infinity and have stooped to the lowest common denominator of trash talking to get the guy I like, that I might as well make a complete and utter mess of my life and then maybe I can get exiled to Siberia. I hear there’s plenty of places to board out there.” Bam.
“Seth.” Ryan’s hand moves from Seth’s shoulder to his jaw in an effort to control Seth and make him stop banging his head on the dashboard. It’s works. Except now that Seth’s given himself a concussion, he’s seeing Ryan in quadruple. Plus, Ryan’s hand is on his face. Yeah, definitely dizzy.
“I always wanted a sister,” Ryan begins, but he’s cut off by Seth’s snorting.
“Dude, that’s so VC Andrews.”
Seth’s head is killing him, but he swears that Ryan’s moving closer.
His perception is shit right now, but the feel of Ryan’s hand on his face is searing his senses.
“I like Marissa,” Ryan continues, ignoring Seth’s outburst. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t like other people as well. There’s not a quota around here, is there?”
Seth laughs despite himself. “Dude, if there is, I just broke it.”
“You can like more than one person at a time, Seth. I do.”
Seth’s head pounds. “You do? Do you mean me, because you know it'd be nice to be in on such a revelation. All week long it's been about Marissa and Donnie and Marie, it's like the Osmonds. I might as well have been wearing the One Ring,” he insists.
“Seth," Ryan speaks slowly. "I live with you.”
“Yeah, and I live with my parents.”
"And me."
"Yeah, and you."
Ryan shakes his head. “Seth, I’m not going anywhere.”
“Yeah, but...” It takes Seth several seconds to process what Ryan’s saying, and by then his head’s been tilted so that Ryan can kiss him. It’s not even a real kiss, it’s more like the promise of one. Just a brushing a dry lips, and Seth doesn’t even remember to close his eyes. He’s still puckering up when Ryan’s hand falls away from his face, leaving Seth with the impression of being branded.
“I don’t get it,” he says, finally, when Ryan leans back into the driver’s seat.
Ryan’s voice is slightly hesitant. “Get what?”
“Why there were all those spare tickets for the IMAX screening still left. I mean it’s obvious that we’re going to have to go and help them out tomorrow night, because it’s our civic duty.”
Ryan’s silent over strains of KROQ’s late night DJ.
“Are you asking me out on a date?” Ryan says finally.
Seth doesn’t even hesitate. “Totally.”
Ryan shifts in his seat, turning the car back on. He merges back onto the street, before speaking again. “I’m impressed,” he says. “It takes balls to just ask somebody out like that.”
Seth laughs. “Hey, man, I am smooth. I have confidence like that.”
-end-
Wait. Shit. It’srosenho’s birthday? OMG. Dude!
You’ve got skills. You’ve got talent.
You’re smarter than a room full of MENSA applicants.
Your writing leaves me completely undone.
And if I was talking about my favorite writers, you’d definitely be tied for number one
You make our fandom a better place.
Plus, you’ve got really good taste.
And I have no idea what I’d do without you inspiring your lesser minions,
So thank you for being who you are and doing what you do.
Happy Birthday, Mom #2!
I didn’t know it was coming, because I was away. That’s like no excuse, but my bad. Would you like my sorry ass to write you something? I totally will. I’m on it like white on rice. {{{hugs}}}
ethrosdemon) is on board the OC bandwagon. This is like finding out you and your dealer share the same therapist for real. (Or vice versa)Also, last night’s OC? No words. Well except for these. Dedicated to my girl and to
kormanfan for showing the love. Smallville/OC
Also Known As
Lucas got the name Donnie from Donnie Brasco.
It was the movie he had been watching with Stevie and Knucklehead before he found out about Lex. They’d been playing spades, and he’d been up at least $200 when the movie ended, and they’d switched back to regular cable.
Lex was all over every station that wasn’t showing porn or cartoons, and Lucas hadn’t even blinked. Instead he’d finished playing cards, winning more than $300 in cash, plus a new watch, a dime bag and a date with Knucklehead’s sister, Veronica.
After his boys left, Lucas went into the kitchen, grabbed himself a 40 oz. that he wasn’t legal to buy, and sat back down on the leather sofa that reminded him of the time he’d had sex in the coat closet of this club.
He lit a joint, and turned on CNN to find out what the fuck had happened.
*
He had been in Malibu for almost three months when Lex’s plane went down.
It was the second move that Lex had forced him to make, and Lucas had been less than pleased about leaving Seattle, but whatever. Lex had definitely hooked him up well, even if Lucas stuck out like a sore thumb. His crib was tight like those on MTV, and Lex had even promised him a new bike for his birthday. Not that Lucas couldn’t have gotten his own, but since Lex had refused to let him work, and he’d promised he wouldn’t do anything to draw attention to himself, Lucas had been wheel-less.
He had found himself with nothing to do and all this time to kill, so he made friends of his own.
Like gravitates to like and even in the richest places in the country, Lucas could find someone to hang out with. That was how he’d met Stevie, Joe, Jamie, Knucklehead and Ramon.
*
Lucas could’ve chosen Lefty of Joey or Sonny or something, but he felt more like a Donnie, so that’s who he became.
It wasn’t the first time Lucas had been known by something other than his given name: in Gotham he was Kevin, his foster mom in Center City had always referred to him as ‘you bastard,’ and his second time in Metropolis – the one before he met Lex – he was Robert. Lucas had never been a Robert in his life, and Bobby wasn’t any better, but that hadn’t really been the point.
Hell, Lex had made him over as Alex Jones, and Lucas was definite not an Alex.
Lucas was always going to be Lucas, no matter what the hell people called him or what his last name was or wasn’t.
*
Lucas watched the news for almost six hours that night, waiting for some word or another, but he knew the truth long before anybody dared to say anything.
He hadn’t been depending on Lex or anything. Lucas knew better, but now that there was nobody paying the rent on his crib, and nobody protecting him, it was only a matter of time before the old man found him.
So Lucas did was came naturally. He made a few calls and hocked the stuff that Lex had paid for.
He packed the clothes that had been his, appropriated a suitable bike from that dude down the street that he’d never liked, and a few hours later Donnie Alexander wound up down the coast in the OC looking for a job.
-end-
You know I had to go there. And also, for the woobiest woobie that was ever on FOX (FYI: that's Seth, not Donnie. Kassie, Shut. Up)
The OC
Faking It (False Confidence)
Faking so much confidence and bravado takes a lot out of man, and Seth knows it’s bad when he doesn’t even try to convince Ryan to let him drive them home from the hospital. Seth is always looking for a chance to drive the 745i because talk about a sweet car, but tonight, he’d so rather be asleep and drooling on the backseat.
Maybe Seth isn’t cut out to be in charge.
He slides into the passenger seat mutely, and fastens his seat belt without a second thought. KROQ is playing the new one from Rooney that he’s desperately been trying to get Ryan to listen to, but instead of pointing this out, Seth rests his head against the window and lets the air conditioning wash over him like a cold shower.
He feels like he should say something, apologize for all the shit that’s gone down this week, but all he’s wanted to do is help.
He tried to hook up Ryan with Marissa because that’s what Ryan wants, and he’s tried to get along with the people he thought Ryan liked. He’s bought movie tickets, left Ryan alone and all but hired himself out as Ryan’s personal slave. Seth always thought that would involve fewer clothes, but he just wants Ryan to be happy with him and his parents.
Seth just wants to make Ryan happy, period.
He’s never thought that it would be so hard, but maybe the problem is that he keeps trying to make Ryan happy with other people.
Maybe Seth should just be himself.
Out the corner of his eye, he studies Ryan’s profile in the blue light from the dashboard. Ryan's nose has obviously been broken one or twice, and his lips are kind of thin. They’re moving soundlessly, and Ryan might actually be singing along with the radio.
Under normal circumstances, this would leave him open for great ridicule from Seth’s glee, but right now Seth is just too tired and confused to say anything. He can’t figure out what the hell he’s supposed to do, and he’s tired of making it up as he goes along.
*
For the record, Seth would like to point out that he has plenty of confidence.
Okay, none of his confidence is in relation to other people, but he can so ride his skateboard without eating the pavement. He can hold his own in the half pipe, and he’s wicked at Grand Theft Auto and Animatrix. He can drive his mom’s Range Rover without hitting anybody, and it getting trashed wasn’t really his fault at all. Except that he took it up to Long Beach knowing that it wasn’t a good idea, but whatever. He was just asserting his masculinity and his right to do what he wants when he wants. Isn’t that what confidence is all about? Isn’ t that what he’s supposed to do at his age?
The thing about it having confidence, though, is that Seth could probably do with a little more, because confidence is like condoms and he can never have too many of those. Not that Seth has ever used a condom for anything besides a water balloon, but that’s kind of irrelevant at this point, because at least Seth is trying.
He knows Anna was right.
Seth knows that he should be more confident. Faint heart never won the girl or the guy, and when he walked Anna home and she hugged him at the door, he was kinda confused.
He had done everything she told him to, and still he hadn’t scored. Before she shut the door in his face, though, she told him that he should try some of his newfound confidence on Ryan, and that had pretty much left him speechless. He was totally smoother than that, except that Anna so knew he wasn’t.
So he tried to do what she suggested, and look where it got him: the hospital, abandoned down at the beach, and associating with the likes of Donnie.
What the hell was he thinking anyway?
Oh, that’s right, he wasn’t thinking at all, because at least Donnie kinda paid attention to him, which was better than following Ryan around like a puppy waiting to be kicked.
Seth knows that he’s not being fair. Ryan never asked for Seth to follow him around, and he obviously doesn’t need Seth to help hook him up with Marissa, but what makes her so much better than Seth? He dad is a criminal! Mr and Mrs Cooper never would’ve let Ryan stay with them, and doesn’t that count for anything? Is it because Marissa is Miss Popularity and everybody loves her and she has this massive ego? Actually, that’s wrong, Seth knows Marissa doesn’t have an ego, but she does have confidence, and it seems to be a natural thing, not something that can be taught.
*
Seth shifts in his seat. Thom Yorke is doing that scratchy, whispering thing he calls singing, and Seth would beg to differ. He feels a lot and it is so all there.
Seth feels like he should be more confident, and that Ryan should notice his efforts. Seth feels like he shouldn’t play second best to anybody, even though he’s afraid he always will. He knows that he’s not Marissa. He knows he’ll never be popular and super confident in a room full of people, but he’s smart, and snarky, and damnit, he probably read Kerouac first.
“What’s so great about Marissa anyway?” he blurts out over the radio. “I mean yeah she’s a girl, and she’s got breasts… and things, but she can’t skateboard, and she’s whiny. She needs to eat like fifty Big Macs, too. Plus, she was dating Luke, and talk about bad taste. I mean anybody could do better than that, and you deserve better, too.”
Seth’s brain finally catches up with his mouth, and his tirade ends just as quickly as it’s begun, but it’s too late. Before Seth can even think about playing it off, Ryan’s pulling the car onto the shoulder of the road and turning off the engine all while Seth begins banging his head on the dashboard.
Bam.
It hurts. He’ll probably have knots in the morning. Serves him right. Bam.
He flinches slightly at the feel of Ryan’s hand on his shoulder, but since he’s already stepped in it, he might as well keep going. Bam.
“I know I’m not all cool and mysterious and James Dean, or flirty and girlie, but I didn’t think you would ditch me so fast,” Seth says.
Bam.
“Seth, stop it.”
Seth pauses, looks over at Ryan who’s just so hot, and so not into him, and he bangs his head on the dashboard, again. Bam.
“Seth.”
“Don’t mind me, I’ve just decided since I’m going to be grounded into infinity and have stooped to the lowest common denominator of trash talking to get the guy I like, that I might as well make a complete and utter mess of my life and then maybe I can get exiled to Siberia. I hear there’s plenty of places to board out there.” Bam.
“Seth.” Ryan’s hand moves from Seth’s shoulder to his jaw in an effort to control Seth and make him stop banging his head on the dashboard. It’s works. Except now that Seth’s given himself a concussion, he’s seeing Ryan in quadruple. Plus, Ryan’s hand is on his face. Yeah, definitely dizzy.
“I always wanted a sister,” Ryan begins, but he’s cut off by Seth’s snorting.
“Dude, that’s so VC Andrews.”
Seth’s head is killing him, but he swears that Ryan’s moving closer.
His perception is shit right now, but the feel of Ryan’s hand on his face is searing his senses.
“I like Marissa,” Ryan continues, ignoring Seth’s outburst. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t like other people as well. There’s not a quota around here, is there?”
Seth laughs despite himself. “Dude, if there is, I just broke it.”
“You can like more than one person at a time, Seth. I do.”
Seth’s head pounds. “You do? Do you mean me, because you know it'd be nice to be in on such a revelation. All week long it's been about Marissa and Donnie and Marie, it's like the Osmonds. I might as well have been wearing the One Ring,” he insists.
“Seth," Ryan speaks slowly. "I live with you.”
“Yeah, and I live with my parents.”
"And me."
"Yeah, and you."
Ryan shakes his head. “Seth, I’m not going anywhere.”
“Yeah, but...” It takes Seth several seconds to process what Ryan’s saying, and by then his head’s been tilted so that Ryan can kiss him. It’s not even a real kiss, it’s more like the promise of one. Just a brushing a dry lips, and Seth doesn’t even remember to close his eyes. He’s still puckering up when Ryan’s hand falls away from his face, leaving Seth with the impression of being branded.
“I don’t get it,” he says, finally, when Ryan leans back into the driver’s seat.
Ryan’s voice is slightly hesitant. “Get what?”
“Why there were all those spare tickets for the IMAX screening still left. I mean it’s obvious that we’re going to have to go and help them out tomorrow night, because it’s our civic duty.”
Ryan’s silent over strains of KROQ’s late night DJ.
“Are you asking me out on a date?” Ryan says finally.
Seth doesn’t even hesitate. “Totally.”
Ryan shifts in his seat, turning the car back on. He merges back onto the street, before speaking again. “I’m impressed,” he says. “It takes balls to just ask somebody out like that.”
Seth laughs. “Hey, man, I am smooth. I have confidence like that.”
-end-
Wait. Shit. It’s
rosenho’s birthday? OMG. Dude! You’ve got skills. You’ve got talent.
You’re smarter than a room full of MENSA applicants.
Your writing leaves me completely undone.
And if I was talking about my favorite writers, you’d definitely be tied for number one
You make our fandom a better place.
Plus, you’ve got really good taste.
And I have no idea what I’d do without you inspiring your lesser minions,
So thank you for being who you are and doing what you do.
Happy Birthday, Mom #2!
I didn’t know it was coming, because I was away. That’s like no excuse, but my bad. Would you like my sorry ass to write you something? I totally will. I’m on it like white on rice. {{{hugs}}}
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