Fic: Fluff (bandom, Panic, gen)
Mar. 2nd, 2008 11:36 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
inmyriadbitsFandom: bandom, Panic At The Disco
Pairing: none; gen
Disclaimer: This should go without saying, but I'm really not deluded enough to think this is real. At all. It's more like stealing a bunch of characteristics from real life people and using them to decorate my own characters. So, if you real life people are reading this, no offense meant, thanks for letting me borrow details from your life for my entertainment and that of my friends, etc. Keep up the good music! *thumbs up*
Summary: It's fluff. And there's fluffy things in it. Plus cuddling.
Notes: 839 words. Written as incentive for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
floridapeaches to finish her homework, and therefore completely unedited and totally hand-wavy at the end. Enjoy!
Fluff
This was clearly all Ryan's fault.
Ryan worked in themes, you see. At the moment, he was solidly in what Brendon was privately calling his "Ryan of The Shire" phase, and as usual, he was pulling the band along with him. Brendon expected to start having second breakfasts any day now (tea time was already in place). Jon had the "pipe-weed" angle covered pretty well. There was much less makeup involved in this phase than the Circus Freaks era, and Brendon was still deciding whether he missed it or not.
Anyway, like all (five-foot-nine) hobbits, Ryan had become deeply involved with making his abode as comfortable as possible.
Brendon still wasn't sure how he'd ended up shopping for dishes on their day off, though.
"Why are we here again?" Brendon asked, poking at some dark red glasses.
"Because I want mugs, Brendon," Ryan said, like that explained anything.
"But why?" Brendon asked. He was bored. Spencer and Jon had wandered off somewhere, and Brendon gladly would have followed, but Ryan had been discussing the finer points of a set of forks. Brendon thinks he would have noticed his less-than-captive audience sneaking off.
Ryan didn't answer. He wasn't surprised; Ryan stopped explaining things after the third time, when it was clear Brendon just wasn't paying attention to what he was saying anyway.
Suddenly, Jon appeared behind Ryan, propping his chin on Ryan's -- bony, Brendon knew -- shoulder. "Hey guys! Come on, Spencer's found the most comfortable thing in the world," he said, grabbing their wrists and towing them towards the bedding department.
"But--" Ryan began.
Brendon latched onto the opportunity. "Spencer has commanded our presence, Ryan," he intoned, using his I Am Most Solemn Right Now face. "The ceramic can wait."
Ryan rolled his eyes, but let Jon continue pulling him along.
When they arrived at their destination, Brendon could barely see Spencer, except for his shoes poking off the edge of the giant bed display. The rest of him was swallowed by what was apparently the thickest down comforter in the world. "Spencer?" Brendon asked.
Spencer's head popped up from its downy trench. "Oh my god, you guys, I'd forgotten what real beds feel like." His face disappeared again behind a mountain of comforter. "This is so amazing." Jon was already climbing onto the bed next to Spencer with a happy sigh, and Brendon wasted no time clambering on right behind him.
It was like lying in a cloud -- one of the clouds in Disney movies, the kind that Peter Pan could lay on or Jasmine could catch in her hands, not like real clouds, which Brendon knew after spending any time at all in San Francisco were really just cold, wet fog, when you got close enough to touch them. "Dude, this is awesome," Brendon mumbled, his face half-buried in fluffy goodness, and snuggled closer to Jon. The snuggling was also awesome; they could never fit all four of them into one of the bunks, no matter how much Pete had sworn they could, really, they should totally try that sometime (all with that grin on his face, which Brendon knew from experience meant Pete was lying his ass off).
Brendon could hear Spencer telling Ryan to get his stupid bony butt on the bed, but wasn't really paying attention too closely. He threw an arm across Jon's back (Jon had face-planted, Brendon wasn't too sure how he was breathing), earning him a "Jesus fuck, Brendon, that was my face," from Spencer when he misjudged the location of his head.
"You have the best ideas, man," he said, awkwardly patting Spencer on his chest (after some minor corrections and a bit more cursing).
"I know," Spencer said contentedly. And then everyone shut up, because, bed, and cuddling, and all four of them at once. Spencer really did have the best ideas.
They'd been lying like that for a while, Brendon wasn't sure how long, when he heard someone clear their throat above him, and he turned his head to see high-waisted polyester pants. His eyes trailed up over a shiny fake-leather belt, noting the tucked-in white button-down and the nametag reading "DORIS," before finally reaching the unhappiest face he'd seen since that time Zack had stopped Brendon two seconds before he and Jon had the chance to try out their makeshift trampoline. DORIS looked like she smelled something that didn't agree with her. Brendon had to admit that maybe she *did* smell something, since they weren't the cleanest rock stars on the planet. He belatedly smiled at her (Polite Smile #2, slightly less charming than #1, which seemed to make old ladies distrust him more, for some reason), surreptitiously poking at Spencer for backup.
[...and then Jon and Ryan charm her with their "my, such a polite boy" and "dear lord, someone needs to fatten him up" powers, respectively, and Zack shows up and drags them back to the bus. Later that afternoon, Brendon finds Ryan ordering four bunk-sized down comforters and fuzzy duvet covers online and doesn't say anything, just curls up next to him with a head on his shoulder. The End.]
*****
Pairing: none; gen
Disclaimer: This should go without saying, but I'm really not deluded enough to think this is real. At all. It's more like stealing a bunch of characteristics from real life people and using them to decorate my own characters. So, if you real life people are reading this, no offense meant, thanks for letting me borrow details from your life for my entertainment and that of my friends, etc. Keep up the good music! *thumbs up*
Summary: It's fluff. And there's fluffy things in it. Plus cuddling.
Notes: 839 words. Written as incentive for
floridapeaches to finish her homework, and therefore completely unedited and totally hand-wavy at the end. Enjoy!This was clearly all Ryan's fault.
Ryan worked in themes, you see. At the moment, he was solidly in what Brendon was privately calling his "Ryan of The Shire" phase, and as usual, he was pulling the band along with him. Brendon expected to start having second breakfasts any day now (tea time was already in place). Jon had the "pipe-weed" angle covered pretty well. There was much less makeup involved in this phase than the Circus Freaks era, and Brendon was still deciding whether he missed it or not.
Anyway, like all (five-foot-nine) hobbits, Ryan had become deeply involved with making his abode as comfortable as possible.
Brendon still wasn't sure how he'd ended up shopping for dishes on their day off, though.
"Why are we here again?" Brendon asked, poking at some dark red glasses.
"Because I want mugs, Brendon," Ryan said, like that explained anything.
"But why?" Brendon asked. He was bored. Spencer and Jon had wandered off somewhere, and Brendon gladly would have followed, but Ryan had been discussing the finer points of a set of forks. Brendon thinks he would have noticed his less-than-captive audience sneaking off.
Ryan didn't answer. He wasn't surprised; Ryan stopped explaining things after the third time, when it was clear Brendon just wasn't paying attention to what he was saying anyway.
Suddenly, Jon appeared behind Ryan, propping his chin on Ryan's -- bony, Brendon knew -- shoulder. "Hey guys! Come on, Spencer's found the most comfortable thing in the world," he said, grabbing their wrists and towing them towards the bedding department.
"But--" Ryan began.
Brendon latched onto the opportunity. "Spencer has commanded our presence, Ryan," he intoned, using his I Am Most Solemn Right Now face. "The ceramic can wait."
Ryan rolled his eyes, but let Jon continue pulling him along.
When they arrived at their destination, Brendon could barely see Spencer, except for his shoes poking off the edge of the giant bed display. The rest of him was swallowed by what was apparently the thickest down comforter in the world. "Spencer?" Brendon asked.
Spencer's head popped up from its downy trench. "Oh my god, you guys, I'd forgotten what real beds feel like." His face disappeared again behind a mountain of comforter. "This is so amazing." Jon was already climbing onto the bed next to Spencer with a happy sigh, and Brendon wasted no time clambering on right behind him.
It was like lying in a cloud -- one of the clouds in Disney movies, the kind that Peter Pan could lay on or Jasmine could catch in her hands, not like real clouds, which Brendon knew after spending any time at all in San Francisco were really just cold, wet fog, when you got close enough to touch them. "Dude, this is awesome," Brendon mumbled, his face half-buried in fluffy goodness, and snuggled closer to Jon. The snuggling was also awesome; they could never fit all four of them into one of the bunks, no matter how much Pete had sworn they could, really, they should totally try that sometime (all with that grin on his face, which Brendon knew from experience meant Pete was lying his ass off).
Brendon could hear Spencer telling Ryan to get his stupid bony butt on the bed, but wasn't really paying attention too closely. He threw an arm across Jon's back (Jon had face-planted, Brendon wasn't too sure how he was breathing), earning him a "Jesus fuck, Brendon, that was my face," from Spencer when he misjudged the location of his head.
"You have the best ideas, man," he said, awkwardly patting Spencer on his chest (after some minor corrections and a bit more cursing).
"I know," Spencer said contentedly. And then everyone shut up, because, bed, and cuddling, and all four of them at once. Spencer really did have the best ideas.
They'd been lying like that for a while, Brendon wasn't sure how long, when he heard someone clear their throat above him, and he turned his head to see high-waisted polyester pants. His eyes trailed up over a shiny fake-leather belt, noting the tucked-in white button-down and the nametag reading "DORIS," before finally reaching the unhappiest face he'd seen since that time Zack had stopped Brendon two seconds before he and Jon had the chance to try out their makeshift trampoline. DORIS looked like she smelled something that didn't agree with her. Brendon had to admit that maybe she *did* smell something, since they weren't the cleanest rock stars on the planet. He belatedly smiled at her (Polite Smile #2, slightly less charming than #1, which seemed to make old ladies distrust him more, for some reason), surreptitiously poking at Spencer for backup.
[...and then Jon and Ryan charm her with their "my, such a polite boy" and "dear lord, someone needs to fatten him up" powers, respectively, and Zack shows up and drags them back to the bus. Later that afternoon, Brendon finds Ryan ordering four bunk-sized down comforters and fuzzy duvet covers online and doesn't say anything, just curls up next to him with a head on his shoulder. The End.]
