WB RPS - Still The Prettiest in the Land (Happy Birthday, ethrosdemon)
I'm gonna let you guys in on a little secret. On Sunday it's ethrosdemon's birthday. So, what does that mean for me? Pain. Lots and lots of pain.
It might not seem like it from the other side, but K and I don't really have the same taste fandom and character wise. I mean, we can agree on the greats: Blaise, Lex, Draco, Galen, but we tend to see them differently. And when we diverge. Man, do we diverge. She still can't forgive me for due South, I just point to pop scene. Or pop fandom, I don't even know what it's called. She laments that I devour SGA stories, I think I'd rather watch paint dry than go through Supernatural. And the bitch is ALWAYS late to shit. I tell her Lost! Smallville! BSG! She ignores me and then shows up eight months later. *pauses* I only bitch because I care.
Anyroad, we tend to see birthdays as comeuppance, AKA, I am getting revenge on you, bitch, and you are going to write me what *I* like. This started the year she was all LOTRips crazy and made me write Viggo. I *still* have the scars from that one. *lifts shirt and shows back*
This year she wrote me Neville-fic. I should've known my pound of flesh was gonna hurt. And then she had the nerve to say WB RPS. Like, like, Ari-fic and HP weren't enough. *scowls*
I hate you, Kassie. Happy Birthday, whore.
WB RPS
Rated R for all kinds of badness. Yay, badness!
Still the Prettiest in the Land
Being pretty is fucking hard work, but nobody appreciates this. Ever. No one ever looks at Tom and thinks "I bet he scratches himself in inappropriate places" or "Hey, I bet he's really good at quantum physics."
Mike just hiccups. "Do you even know how to spell quantum physics?"
Tom elbows him in the ribs, and Mike doesn't even have the courtesy to fall off of his stool. Asshole.
"That's not the point," Tom says stubbornly. "The point is that I'm tired of just being a fucking pretty face."
Mike raises an eyebrow and another round magically appears in front of them. Things like that don't work for Tom. If Tom raises an eyebrow, people think he's constipated, or that he's trying to emote, or that he wants a blow job. Sometimes Tom's just trying to get service. Sometimes Tom just wants to be treated like everyone else.
"You're tired of being a pretty face," Mike parrots, foam from his Guinness dotting his upper lip. "That's like Pam Anderson saying she's tired of being all tits."
Tom opens his mouth, but Mike cuts him off. "Oh, wait, she did say that, didn't she?"
"Yeah, and --"
"Fuck that, no one believes her anyway."
Tom belches. "That's my point."
Mike just snickers. "Mine too."
*
People have no idea what Tom goes through as Tom Welling.
They have no idea the disgrace he suffers every time pictures of him in high school are spread all over the internet, and he has to come to work and find Mike's wallpapered his entire trailer.
The public-at-large don't know what it's like to be stared at at the gas station, or the grocery story, or when you're buying shoes, or when you're just trying to buy some goddamn skin magazines without every pre-teen in the greater Vancouver area staring at you with hearts and glitter and shit.
No one know what Tom suffers, because Tom is a good actor. A great actor. Photographers tell him to turn this way, or turn that way, or to smile more, or to smile less, and he does it. His agent yells at him to do more press, and he does it. The network fucks him over with the storyline and things like The Fog, and Tom just rolls with it, because he's that good of an actor.
Actually, Tom's not that good of an actor, but people just tend to assume that because he's smiling he's not thinking of how to dismember them and get rid of all the body parts. They're wrong.
They're all wrong.
*
Tom and Mike meet up with Jensen and Jared once or twice a month. They drink. They bitch. They drink. They do something sports-related. They drink some more. Sometimes they look at girls, and boys, and then they drink some more. Occasionally, they do some drugs. They don't really call each other on the phone to shoot the shit -- except for now.
"I'm not just a pretty face," Tom says by way of greeting when he calls Jensen from his trailer. Mike's not on the set today, so Tom doesn't have anyone to play with.
There's a pause, and then Jared's voice comes down the line. "Jen, this call is totally for you."
Why Jared is answering Jensen's phone doesn't even register in Tom's brain. "Domino's -- we don't deliver unless you’re a 34C," Jensen says. He's eating something that's clacking against his teeth.
"I'm not just a pretty face," Tom repeats. "I have like, thoughts, and whatever. Why the hell do people think I don't have a brain? I have a brain!"
Clack clack.
"Well, that's a new one. I don't know a lot of guys who bitch about being too pretty. Are you overcome by all the ass you've been gettin' or somethin'? Cause, if you are, you can totally send'em over to me." There's a muffled noise, and Jensen hollers really loudly in Tom's ear. "Motherfucker! Stop that, damn!"
"Do you two need couples therapy already or what?" Tom mocks.
"Shut up," Jensen clacks. "Now, about you and all this ass."
"Yeah, I can't handle it," Tom says, "I'm overcome by people wanting in my pants."
Clack clack. "What's got your panties all in a bunch, Tommy?"
"I could have been a quantum physicist," Tom says stubbornly.
Jensen just chuckles. "Riiiiight."
"I'm serious."
"I know you are," Jen's in a really good mood today. Clearly he got some tail last night. Tom can't even remember the last time he got laid. He was probably still married. "But I'm afraid that's the price you pay for just bein' that darn pretty."
"It's not like I'm trying to be pretty," Tom protests.
Clack clack. "Well, if you want a refund, I'm sure the Lord'll give you a trade-in. In your next life you can be Mikey or something."
*
There is a special circle of hell for people who try to get to Tom through his family; he will be there to greet every last one of these fuckers personally. They will see exactly how pretty he is before he has them all disemboweled.
*
He calls Jamie because she's still talking to him. "You didn't marry me for my looks, did you?" he asks pointedly.
"You weren't Superman when you married me," she says. He can just imagine her rolling her eyes. "What do you think?"
There's a long silence. "You always liked Batman better, didn't you?"
Jamie just laughs. "George Clooney played Batman; you're just you."
*
Just because someone is pretty, or famous, or both, does not give you the right to follow them in the bathroom. Or stick your face under the stall door. Or look down when they're taking a piss at the urinal.
Tom is going to buy a big sandwich board and wear it around downtown Vancouver for a whole week when the show is over. It'll say, "PRETTY PEOPLE SHIT TOO!"
He would do it now, but his agent, Ari, would probably kill him. Of course, Ari also calls Tom The Prettiest Cocksucker in the Land ™.
Tom hates Ari most days, except that Ari also represents George Clooney and Vince Chase and Sharon Stone, and pissing off Ari always ends badly for Tom.
The last time he tried to punk Ari, Ari took out an ad in the back of The Advocate with Tom's cell number. And then he told Tom that he should do The Fog.
*
People really have no idea of the pain that Tom suffers by being so attractive, but Mike just rolls his eyes and goes back to packing his bong. "If people offering to suck my cock every five seconds is suffering, then I hope I suffer for the rest of my life."
Tom and Mike don't have a lot of scenes together anymore, but they still spend more time together than Tom's spent with anyone in the last five years, including his soon-to-be-ex-wife. There's even a Tom shaped imprint on Mike's sofa, so that at times like these, when they're getting stoned on Mike's sofa, Tom's really, really comfortable.
Unfortunately though, the bamboo blinds over the windows in Mike's apartment are seriously ugly. Like ugly to the -nth degree. Even for Mike's questionable taste, they're impressively ugly. They've bugged Tom for-fucking-ever.
When Tom belches he tastes coffee and marijuana smoke. "It's not about people sucking my cock," he says belligerently. Or as belligerently as any stoner can possibly be.
Mike just snorts and takes another hit. "You only say that because you can get your cock sucked whenever you want. If you ever had to seriously see what life is like for the not-pretty, you would shut the hell up and appreciate how hot you are."
Tom scowls, or he would scowl if he could control his face. "What the hell do you know about it, Mikey? You fart and half of Vancouver wants to have your babies. You're totally missing the point."
Mike has the decency to choke on his hit this time, but that doesn't stop him from elbowing Tom in the ribs. "No, *you're* missing the point. You're fixating. The only person worrying about how pretty you are is you -- and Mary Sue out in Bumblefuck. Fuck other people if they don't appreciate you; you're a great guy and you always buy the first round. You've gotta stop reading your own press."
When Tom manages to focus his eyes on Mike, Mike's looking at him as though he's the stupidest person ever. Tom would be embarrassed, but he's too stoned. Apparently, this is Mike's equivalent of a serious pep talk.
Tom just frowns, or something like a frown. "I suppose I can't be that hot," he begins, "after all, you haven't offered to suck my cock yet."
Mike just snorts. "You think I'd go gay for you?"
Apparently Tom can't frown or scowl, but he can still lick his lips. "Ari doesn't call me The Prettiest Cocksucker in the Land for no reason, you know."
-end-
Improv by the deserter serialkarma: glitter, bamboo, coffee, heart
It might not seem like it from the other side, but K and I don't really have the same taste fandom and character wise. I mean, we can agree on the greats: Blaise, Lex, Draco, Galen, but we tend to see them differently. And when we diverge. Man, do we diverge. She still can't forgive me for due South, I just point to pop scene. Or pop fandom, I don't even know what it's called. She laments that I devour SGA stories, I think I'd rather watch paint dry than go through Supernatural. And the bitch is ALWAYS late to shit. I tell her Lost! Smallville! BSG! She ignores me and then shows up eight months later. *pauses* I only bitch because I care.
Anyroad, we tend to see birthdays as comeuppance, AKA, I am getting revenge on you, bitch, and you are going to write me what *I* like. This started the year she was all LOTRips crazy and made me write Viggo. I *still* have the scars from that one. *lifts shirt and shows back*
This year she wrote me Neville-fic. I should've known my pound of flesh was gonna hurt. And then she had the nerve to say WB RPS. Like, like, Ari-fic and HP weren't enough. *scowls*
I hate you, Kassie. Happy Birthday, whore.
WB RPS
Rated R for all kinds of badness. Yay, badness!
Still the Prettiest in the Land
Being pretty is fucking hard work, but nobody appreciates this. Ever. No one ever looks at Tom and thinks "I bet he scratches himself in inappropriate places" or "Hey, I bet he's really good at quantum physics."
Mike just hiccups. "Do you even know how to spell quantum physics?"
Tom elbows him in the ribs, and Mike doesn't even have the courtesy to fall off of his stool. Asshole.
"That's not the point," Tom says stubbornly. "The point is that I'm tired of just being a fucking pretty face."
Mike raises an eyebrow and another round magically appears in front of them. Things like that don't work for Tom. If Tom raises an eyebrow, people think he's constipated, or that he's trying to emote, or that he wants a blow job. Sometimes Tom's just trying to get service. Sometimes Tom just wants to be treated like everyone else.
"You're tired of being a pretty face," Mike parrots, foam from his Guinness dotting his upper lip. "That's like Pam Anderson saying she's tired of being all tits."
Tom opens his mouth, but Mike cuts him off. "Oh, wait, she did say that, didn't she?"
"Yeah, and --"
"Fuck that, no one believes her anyway."
Tom belches. "That's my point."
Mike just snickers. "Mine too."
*
People have no idea what Tom goes through as Tom Welling.
They have no idea the disgrace he suffers every time pictures of him in high school are spread all over the internet, and he has to come to work and find Mike's wallpapered his entire trailer.
The public-at-large don't know what it's like to be stared at at the gas station, or the grocery story, or when you're buying shoes, or when you're just trying to buy some goddamn skin magazines without every pre-teen in the greater Vancouver area staring at you with hearts and glitter and shit.
No one know what Tom suffers, because Tom is a good actor. A great actor. Photographers tell him to turn this way, or turn that way, or to smile more, or to smile less, and he does it. His agent yells at him to do more press, and he does it. The network fucks him over with the storyline and things like The Fog, and Tom just rolls with it, because he's that good of an actor.
Actually, Tom's not that good of an actor, but people just tend to assume that because he's smiling he's not thinking of how to dismember them and get rid of all the body parts. They're wrong.
They're all wrong.
*
Tom and Mike meet up with Jensen and Jared once or twice a month. They drink. They bitch. They drink. They do something sports-related. They drink some more. Sometimes they look at girls, and boys, and then they drink some more. Occasionally, they do some drugs. They don't really call each other on the phone to shoot the shit -- except for now.
"I'm not just a pretty face," Tom says by way of greeting when he calls Jensen from his trailer. Mike's not on the set today, so Tom doesn't have anyone to play with.
There's a pause, and then Jared's voice comes down the line. "Jen, this call is totally for you."
Why Jared is answering Jensen's phone doesn't even register in Tom's brain. "Domino's -- we don't deliver unless you’re a 34C," Jensen says. He's eating something that's clacking against his teeth.
"I'm not just a pretty face," Tom repeats. "I have like, thoughts, and whatever. Why the hell do people think I don't have a brain? I have a brain!"
Clack clack.
"Well, that's a new one. I don't know a lot of guys who bitch about being too pretty. Are you overcome by all the ass you've been gettin' or somethin'? Cause, if you are, you can totally send'em over to me." There's a muffled noise, and Jensen hollers really loudly in Tom's ear. "Motherfucker! Stop that, damn!"
"Do you two need couples therapy already or what?" Tom mocks.
"Shut up," Jensen clacks. "Now, about you and all this ass."
"Yeah, I can't handle it," Tom says, "I'm overcome by people wanting in my pants."
Clack clack. "What's got your panties all in a bunch, Tommy?"
"I could have been a quantum physicist," Tom says stubbornly.
Jensen just chuckles. "Riiiiight."
"I'm serious."
"I know you are," Jen's in a really good mood today. Clearly he got some tail last night. Tom can't even remember the last time he got laid. He was probably still married. "But I'm afraid that's the price you pay for just bein' that darn pretty."
"It's not like I'm trying to be pretty," Tom protests.
Clack clack. "Well, if you want a refund, I'm sure the Lord'll give you a trade-in. In your next life you can be Mikey or something."
*
There is a special circle of hell for people who try to get to Tom through his family; he will be there to greet every last one of these fuckers personally. They will see exactly how pretty he is before he has them all disemboweled.
*
He calls Jamie because she's still talking to him. "You didn't marry me for my looks, did you?" he asks pointedly.
"You weren't Superman when you married me," she says. He can just imagine her rolling her eyes. "What do you think?"
There's a long silence. "You always liked Batman better, didn't you?"
Jamie just laughs. "George Clooney played Batman; you're just you."
*
Just because someone is pretty, or famous, or both, does not give you the right to follow them in the bathroom. Or stick your face under the stall door. Or look down when they're taking a piss at the urinal.
Tom is going to buy a big sandwich board and wear it around downtown Vancouver for a whole week when the show is over. It'll say, "PRETTY PEOPLE SHIT TOO!"
He would do it now, but his agent, Ari, would probably kill him. Of course, Ari also calls Tom The Prettiest Cocksucker in the Land ™.
Tom hates Ari most days, except that Ari also represents George Clooney and Vince Chase and Sharon Stone, and pissing off Ari always ends badly for Tom.
The last time he tried to punk Ari, Ari took out an ad in the back of The Advocate with Tom's cell number. And then he told Tom that he should do The Fog.
*
People really have no idea of the pain that Tom suffers by being so attractive, but Mike just rolls his eyes and goes back to packing his bong. "If people offering to suck my cock every five seconds is suffering, then I hope I suffer for the rest of my life."
Tom and Mike don't have a lot of scenes together anymore, but they still spend more time together than Tom's spent with anyone in the last five years, including his soon-to-be-ex-wife. There's even a Tom shaped imprint on Mike's sofa, so that at times like these, when they're getting stoned on Mike's sofa, Tom's really, really comfortable.
Unfortunately though, the bamboo blinds over the windows in Mike's apartment are seriously ugly. Like ugly to the -nth degree. Even for Mike's questionable taste, they're impressively ugly. They've bugged Tom for-fucking-ever.
When Tom belches he tastes coffee and marijuana smoke. "It's not about people sucking my cock," he says belligerently. Or as belligerently as any stoner can possibly be.
Mike just snorts and takes another hit. "You only say that because you can get your cock sucked whenever you want. If you ever had to seriously see what life is like for the not-pretty, you would shut the hell up and appreciate how hot you are."
Tom scowls, or he would scowl if he could control his face. "What the hell do you know about it, Mikey? You fart and half of Vancouver wants to have your babies. You're totally missing the point."
Mike has the decency to choke on his hit this time, but that doesn't stop him from elbowing Tom in the ribs. "No, *you're* missing the point. You're fixating. The only person worrying about how pretty you are is you -- and Mary Sue out in Bumblefuck. Fuck other people if they don't appreciate you; you're a great guy and you always buy the first round. You've gotta stop reading your own press."
When Tom manages to focus his eyes on Mike, Mike's looking at him as though he's the stupidest person ever. Tom would be embarrassed, but he's too stoned. Apparently, this is Mike's equivalent of a serious pep talk.
Tom just frowns, or something like a frown. "I suppose I can't be that hot," he begins, "after all, you haven't offered to suck my cock yet."
Mike just snorts. "You think I'd go gay for you?"
Apparently Tom can't frown or scowl, but he can still lick his lips. "Ari doesn't call me The Prettiest Cocksucker in the Land for no reason, you know."
-end-
Improv by the deserter serialkarma: glitter, bamboo, coffee, heart