orange, keyboard, scarf
Jul. 3rd, 2019 11:06 pmI asked
runpunkrun for 3 things when I figured out that I'd be using my "rec" tag for the 200th time pretty soon and that I hadn't actually seen rules for what you had to do with the three things. I figured there'd be a kind of theme with the numbers. Of course, I forgot all about my plan when I found a list of vids on a Canada flag on Canada Day, so this is my 201st use of that tag. Because the three things
runpunkrun gave me sounded like a bandom prompt to me, these are bandom fic recs.
An Inch From The Ground by
jukeboxghost
6,738 words | NC-17 | ableist language: "lame" | Brendon/Spencer
“Tonight,” says Spencer as he passes by on his way to join the others, fresh from his bunk, voice an undertone, “tonight, at the hotel, okay?” His hand glides just barely over the small of Brendon’s back, barest touch where his shirt has ridden up.
Brendon startles and manages to shower the counter with sugar as he drops the spoon with a clatter, nearly elbowing his orange soda over. He nods three times without breathing.
Oh man.
He rests his head against the cupboard beside him, grips the edge of the worktop with both hands, and huffs through his nose, because he can still feel the ghost of Spencer’s touch and it makes his thoughts blur.
+
When I picture orange soda, I see it in the bottom of my Hallowe'en bag/pillowcase as kid, orange crush pop. It's not something that's followed me into adulthood, particularly; soft drinks are something that happen when I'm out of options or, rarely, when alcohol is involved. In the case of the latter there's generally not a fluorescent quality to it, so for me Brendon's orange soda is one of those details that tells me just how young he is in this. And god, he is so young in this. There's a superhero-themed popsicle and the whole band together and roughhousing and friends who've shot up in height out of nowhere. There's a kind of yearning in this, for privacy and consummation; it's hotel night fic with all of the before of being with the whole band on a tour bus - welded together for so long in that space, casual and familiar and everyone inside of everyone else that way close friends can get when they're together near-constantly.
jukeboxghost has a really charming, immersive, atmospheric writing style and this is a great fic about a first time and the lead-up to it, all of that locked-in intent and heightened awareness, and the texture of life around and in those moments.
Fantaisie-Impromptu by
oliviacirce
1,485 words | NC-17 | Greta/Victoria
Vicky-T is wearing striped stockings, black and white like piano keys, uneven stripes climbing her long, long legs to the hem of her black babydoll dress.
+
I think that my strongest memory of watching a keyboardist performing in a rock band was looking at him and thinking he looks like he escaped from a film and I want his hat; this was a decade ago and I have zero memory of what his hat looked like but he was wearing a breton shirt and it's apparently left an impression. That memory and likely having seen that band live more than any other seems to have convinced me that keyboardists are good dressers. I have seen piano key tights worn badly, and that is not the case here; I can see this outfit in my mind, which is either me being a visual person who's into clothes or my having seen a publicity photo of Vicky-T wearing this.
Reading this I felt strongly, in onion-like layers, that I knew these stockings - that I had seen them in the wild, that I had seen Vicky-T in them, that I had read this fic before, and that there was meta, that this was the good call on the stockings fic. At least half of those things are definitely true, because it is that fic that Vicky-T commented on and
olivia_circe's resulting meta is both solid and well-titled. I think Greta and Victoria make good sartorial choices in real life and those choices are pretty integral to this fic and its focus on the make up of representing as female and femme, particularly in a male-dominated space, and finding women within that space. This story is femslash porn fluff, and the stockings are pretty great.
Do Androids Dream of Expensive Scarves? by
fictionalaspect
6,402 words | PG-13 | ableist language: "lamely" | Brendon/Spencer
Summary: Post-split fluff. Now with 100% more robots!
+
The greatest number of scarves I've ever worn at once is probably three; there was a winter here a few years back where whenever anyone came in from the cold they'd unwind their scarf and then another one, after, minimum. I wore layers of gloves and socks and sweaters and what felt like everything but wasn't quite, just. I am with Ryan Ross, robot: scarves are for winter. I love scarves - bits of flowy fabric! drama! - but for fashion alone I usually can't be arsed. I am here for ALL of the bandom scarves, though; they light up my life, and this title alone brings me joy. The fic is a delight - about friendship and communication and healing and how robots can bring us together. Brendon and Spencer's getting together is secondary to the whole Ryan Ross, robot, business; it's a story about dealing with your emotions and navigating complexity and getting to a point where you can set things aside. It's also a whole lot of non-serious comedy, which is awesome.
So those were my three things. Let me know if you'd like three random objects of your own.
ETA: So, I looked at my journal logged out, saw I had 199 "rec" tags, poked around and found the other two: unlocked a hockey rec that had originally been posted public, and found the other one is actually one of my few remaining private drafts. So. This is my 200th "rec" post currently. Accidental success FTW, or something.
An Inch From The Ground by
6,738 words | NC-17 | ableist language: "lame" | Brendon/Spencer
“Tonight,” says Spencer as he passes by on his way to join the others, fresh from his bunk, voice an undertone, “tonight, at the hotel, okay?” His hand glides just barely over the small of Brendon’s back, barest touch where his shirt has ridden up.
Brendon startles and manages to shower the counter with sugar as he drops the spoon with a clatter, nearly elbowing his orange soda over. He nods three times without breathing.
Oh man.
He rests his head against the cupboard beside him, grips the edge of the worktop with both hands, and huffs through his nose, because he can still feel the ghost of Spencer’s touch and it makes his thoughts blur.
+
When I picture orange soda, I see it in the bottom of my Hallowe'en bag/pillowcase as kid, orange crush pop. It's not something that's followed me into adulthood, particularly; soft drinks are something that happen when I'm out of options or, rarely, when alcohol is involved. In the case of the latter there's generally not a fluorescent quality to it, so for me Brendon's orange soda is one of those details that tells me just how young he is in this. And god, he is so young in this. There's a superhero-themed popsicle and the whole band together and roughhousing and friends who've shot up in height out of nowhere. There's a kind of yearning in this, for privacy and consummation; it's hotel night fic with all of the before of being with the whole band on a tour bus - welded together for so long in that space, casual and familiar and everyone inside of everyone else that way close friends can get when they're together near-constantly.
Fantaisie-Impromptu by
1,485 words | NC-17 | Greta/Victoria
Vicky-T is wearing striped stockings, black and white like piano keys, uneven stripes climbing her long, long legs to the hem of her black babydoll dress.
+
I think that my strongest memory of watching a keyboardist performing in a rock band was looking at him and thinking he looks like he escaped from a film and I want his hat; this was a decade ago and I have zero memory of what his hat looked like but he was wearing a breton shirt and it's apparently left an impression. That memory and likely having seen that band live more than any other seems to have convinced me that keyboardists are good dressers. I have seen piano key tights worn badly, and that is not the case here; I can see this outfit in my mind, which is either me being a visual person who's into clothes or my having seen a publicity photo of Vicky-T wearing this.
Reading this I felt strongly, in onion-like layers, that I knew these stockings - that I had seen them in the wild, that I had seen Vicky-T in them, that I had read this fic before, and that there was meta, that this was the good call on the stockings fic. At least half of those things are definitely true, because it is that fic that Vicky-T commented on and
Do Androids Dream of Expensive Scarves? by
6,402 words | PG-13 | ableist language: "lamely" | Brendon/Spencer
Summary: Post-split fluff. Now with 100% more robots!
+
The greatest number of scarves I've ever worn at once is probably three; there was a winter here a few years back where whenever anyone came in from the cold they'd unwind their scarf and then another one, after, minimum. I wore layers of gloves and socks and sweaters and what felt like everything but wasn't quite, just. I am with Ryan Ross, robot: scarves are for winter. I love scarves - bits of flowy fabric! drama! - but for fashion alone I usually can't be arsed. I am here for ALL of the bandom scarves, though; they light up my life, and this title alone brings me joy. The fic is a delight - about friendship and communication and healing and how robots can bring us together. Brendon and Spencer's getting together is secondary to the whole Ryan Ross, robot, business; it's a story about dealing with your emotions and navigating complexity and getting to a point where you can set things aside. It's also a whole lot of non-serious comedy, which is awesome.
So those were my three things. Let me know if you'd like three random objects of your own.
ETA: So, I looked at my journal logged out, saw I had 199 "rec" tags, poked around and found the other two: unlocked a hockey rec that had originally been posted public, and found the other one is actually one of my few remaining private drafts. So. This is my 200th "rec" post currently. Accidental success FTW, or something.
(no subject)
Date: 2019-07-04 05:45 am (UTC)And there might have been rules for that meme at some point, but I never pay much attention to meme rules. :D
(no subject)
Date: 2019-07-04 04:07 pm (UTC)Yeah, I feel like meme rules, especially, are meant to be broken.