hackthis_archive (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
hackthis_archive) wrote2004-10-14 02:02 pm
hackthis_archive) wrote2004-10-14 02:02 pm
Entry tags:
Pitter patter, let's get at'er. Lost fic - Sawyer
1. You know that thing where you rediscover a song you used to love desperately, but forgot about for one reason or another? Yeah, that's the best.
2. My joy over Lost cannot be textually rendered (TM Niflet). Seriously. I heart Hurley *so* much and![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
sparky77 wrote this brilliant Hurley ficlet that I just want to roll around in for a few days. *hearts Hurley* What's even more exciting to me though, is that ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-syndicated.gif)
obsessedmuch is going to write for it! Dude, it's like the dead have come back to life. Ohh, zombies on the island, yay! (I had a little chocolate five minutes ago, I'm a little excited I can admit this) Why are there not more Hurley icons?
3. Did you people know there was an![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
alias_slash comm? You know you want in. Don't front.
4. I have all these plans to write stuff and yet, I find myself writing Sawyer-gen. I don't even like Sawyer, he's just really irresistible as a character.
Forlux__aeterna
Lost
A Man of Perspective
Sawyer doesn't really think of anything when his dick jerks in his hand and he comes all over the side of the plane -- that's the whole point. He could think about women with big tits or orgies or porno or something, but that just takes too much work right now, and he can't really be bothered. It’s late at night, and the fire’s crackling in the distance; Sawyer spends all his daylight hours just trying to survive on this god-forsaken place, he's not going to waste perfectly good porno thoughts now, when he could use them later on while he's staring at Kate’s breasts.
Instead, he just listens real carefully for the wet patter on the metal and takes a deep breath of satisfaction in a job well done before zipping up his pants and wiping his hands in the sand.
He wipes the sand off on his jeans and then pulls out his lighter and a cigarette he's rolled from butts and lined paper from somebody's letter to someone else -- he didn't really pay a lot of attention to the letter. He read it of course, but since he didn't know Diana or Wendy and the letter didn’t have any topless photos it was kind of pointless; he was much more interested in the paper itself.
He takes a deep breath before pressing the cigarette between his lips and then takes another deep breath before lighting the end. Smoking is all about anticipation, and man, does he have of lot of that building up.
He knows he’s going to run out of cigarettes real soon, but he’s trying not to think too hard about that because once they’re gone he won’t have any more, and bad things always seem to happen when he quits smoking. Besides Sawyers aren’t quitters according to his old man, so...
He did quit smoking once, for three whole months, and it was the longest three months of Patrick David Sawyer's entire life. It wasn’t enough that Sarah chose that time to leave him and his old man decided it would be a great time to die from lung cancer, but then his mom went into the hospital too, and his sister got divorced and moved back to Mobile, and it was just crazy.
And it all sucked. A lot.
He would come home from working at the construction site with cement power in his hair and dirt wedged underneath his fingernails, and the house would be so fucking quiet and clean because he hoped that Sarah would come back and he wanted things to still be nice for her, and all he could think about was getting his hands on one goddamn cigarette to take off the edge, but he wanted to be strong about it.
If he couldn’t be strong enough for Sarah or his old man, he at least wanted to be strong enough to stick this out. Except that it wasn’t the first week that was the hardest or even the first month. It was the second month and then the third month, and he would drink so he wouldn’t smoke and then he’d get in bar fights. Plus, he got that DUI in his mom’s truck, and his life just went all out of control just cause he stopped smoking.
The morning after Bert let him out of lock-up, the first thing Sawyer did was buy himself a pack of Marlboro reds from Lottie at the liquor store, and then he went home to the little three room house that he’d once shared with his wife, and he made himself a big breakfast and smoked the entire time.
He smoked as he ate and he smoked as he cleaned, and he smoked as he caught the bus to town and bought himself a ticket to Australia because he wanted to go somewhere that didn’t remind him of anywhere he’d ever been.
And now, now he’s stuck on this goddamn island with these people who he doesn’t know and doesn’t want to know, and every time somebody complains about how shitty things are, Sawyer wants to grab them by the neck and tell them that they don’t know the half of it.
One day real soon that pregnant girl is gonna give birth to a baby who didn’t do anything to deserve this, and one day somebody is gonna die from something that didn’t happen on that plane, and one day Sawyer’s cigarettes are all gonna run out and then things are really gonna start to suck.
-end-
2. My joy over Lost cannot be textually rendered (TM Niflet). Seriously. I heart Hurley *so* much and
sparky77 wrote this brilliant Hurley ficlet that I just want to roll around in for a few days. *hearts Hurley* What's even more exciting to me though, is that obsessedmuch is going to write for it! Dude, it's like the dead have come back to life. Ohh, zombies on the island, yay! (I had a little chocolate five minutes ago, I'm a little excited I can admit this) Why are there not more Hurley icons? 3. Did you people know there was an
alias_slash comm? You know you want in. Don't front. 4. I have all these plans to write stuff and yet, I find myself writing Sawyer-gen. I don't even like Sawyer, he's just really irresistible as a character.
For
lux__aeternaLost
A Man of Perspective
Sawyer doesn't really think of anything when his dick jerks in his hand and he comes all over the side of the plane -- that's the whole point. He could think about women with big tits or orgies or porno or something, but that just takes too much work right now, and he can't really be bothered. It’s late at night, and the fire’s crackling in the distance; Sawyer spends all his daylight hours just trying to survive on this god-forsaken place, he's not going to waste perfectly good porno thoughts now, when he could use them later on while he's staring at Kate’s breasts.
Instead, he just listens real carefully for the wet patter on the metal and takes a deep breath of satisfaction in a job well done before zipping up his pants and wiping his hands in the sand.
He wipes the sand off on his jeans and then pulls out his lighter and a cigarette he's rolled from butts and lined paper from somebody's letter to someone else -- he didn't really pay a lot of attention to the letter. He read it of course, but since he didn't know Diana or Wendy and the letter didn’t have any topless photos it was kind of pointless; he was much more interested in the paper itself.
He takes a deep breath before pressing the cigarette between his lips and then takes another deep breath before lighting the end. Smoking is all about anticipation, and man, does he have of lot of that building up.
He knows he’s going to run out of cigarettes real soon, but he’s trying not to think too hard about that because once they’re gone he won’t have any more, and bad things always seem to happen when he quits smoking. Besides Sawyers aren’t quitters according to his old man, so...
He did quit smoking once, for three whole months, and it was the longest three months of Patrick David Sawyer's entire life. It wasn’t enough that Sarah chose that time to leave him and his old man decided it would be a great time to die from lung cancer, but then his mom went into the hospital too, and his sister got divorced and moved back to Mobile, and it was just crazy.
And it all sucked. A lot.
He would come home from working at the construction site with cement power in his hair and dirt wedged underneath his fingernails, and the house would be so fucking quiet and clean because he hoped that Sarah would come back and he wanted things to still be nice for her, and all he could think about was getting his hands on one goddamn cigarette to take off the edge, but he wanted to be strong about it.
If he couldn’t be strong enough for Sarah or his old man, he at least wanted to be strong enough to stick this out. Except that it wasn’t the first week that was the hardest or even the first month. It was the second month and then the third month, and he would drink so he wouldn’t smoke and then he’d get in bar fights. Plus, he got that DUI in his mom’s truck, and his life just went all out of control just cause he stopped smoking.
The morning after Bert let him out of lock-up, the first thing Sawyer did was buy himself a pack of Marlboro reds from Lottie at the liquor store, and then he went home to the little three room house that he’d once shared with his wife, and he made himself a big breakfast and smoked the entire time.
He smoked as he ate and he smoked as he cleaned, and he smoked as he caught the bus to town and bought himself a ticket to Australia because he wanted to go somewhere that didn’t remind him of anywhere he’d ever been.
And now, now he’s stuck on this goddamn island with these people who he doesn’t know and doesn’t want to know, and every time somebody complains about how shitty things are, Sawyer wants to grab them by the neck and tell them that they don’t know the half of it.
One day real soon that pregnant girl is gonna give birth to a baby who didn’t do anything to deserve this, and one day somebody is gonna die from something that didn’t happen on that plane, and one day Sawyer’s cigarettes are all gonna run out and then things are really gonna start to suck.
-end-
no subject
I like him, he's tubby, so I will call him tubby, therefore he will be my tubby.