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Title: Five Things Zack Learned to Add to his Fangirl Speech
Author: Elucreh
Pairing: Implied Panic GSF
Rated: PG
Summary: If this was happening on the bus instead of in front of thirty fangirls, each of whom is guaranteed to have an internet connection, it would be hysterical.
Notes: By a lucky twist of fate, I got into the local meet-n-greet before the HCT show. Before the boys came out to do their thing, Zack made a speech, both highly amusing and slightly scary; these five "things" are as close to verbatim as I could manage. Now, the rules are all pretty much reasonable, but what popped into my head was what if really, he's just doing his best to keep the all the gay group sex from getting out? With thanks to
shibbyskids for giving the thought a story-shape, to
harriet_vane for the beta, and to
shihadchick for giggling beside me. The "Security" section of the Ill-Kept Secret 'Verse
If you have an item of clothing for them to sign, it must be off your person. It can be a shoe, a hoodie, a backpack, I don't care, but you have to take it off.
Okay, if Brendon weren't one of his guys—or, alternatively, if this was happening on the bus instead of in front of thirty fangirls, each of whom is guaranteed to have an internet connection—the look on his face right now would be hysterical.
The girl is clearly an old pro at this, holding her bra strap taut, out at an angle to her body, not even really looking at Brendon—she's too busy salivating over Spencer, who's standing next to him. Spencer, thank fuck, has clearly realized this and is valiantly trying to make conversation with her without bursting into giggles at Brendon's reaction.
Zack thanks the universe every day for giving him at least one charge with more professionalism than desire to make an ass of himself.
Brendon looks like a deer caught in headlights. Terrified. Breast. Right there. Zack pokes him in the ribs, and Brendon shakes himself to reorient on the strap. He signs it quickly, and turns to the next girl in line with one of those smiles—the girl visibly goes weak in the knees, oblivious to the fact that Brendon is just relieved that all she's holding out is a CD.
Zack shakes his head slightly, making two mental notes: first, make sure it never happens again. Second, figure out how Ryan faked all that evidence that Brendon has actually explored somebody's girlparts without throwing up.
I do not allow hugs. The reason for this is that when you get all clingy, I have to pry you off them kicking and screaming, it's a mess, I don't wanna do that.
Jon has his wide-eyed freak-out face on again. It always unnerves him when he's the focus of some girl's insane devotion.
Zack hands her over to one of the zacklings, as he cannot get Brendon to stop calling the rest of the security team, and turns back to the band. The line for pictures has halted uncertainly, leaving the guys huddled in front of the backdrop.
Spencer wraps an arm around Jon's neck, whispers something in his ear, and the two of them grin at each other. Apparently Jon doesn't mind being the focus of Spencer's insane devotion. Not that Zack needed any further evidence of that.
A flash goes off behind him, and Zack grimaces.
Not that the internet needed it, either.
Fuck.
I do not allow handshakes. The reason for that is, I do not need you crushing Ryan's hands. He needs them to play.
Also, apparently Brendon has to kiss them better. Immediately. Because Ryan is pouting.
Bden, dude, the cameras are right th—
This is not the time to ask to touch their hair, smell their beards, or do anything else that I would qualify as "creepy"
Because it is Ryan's favorite joke to repeat these requests later, and nobody outside his band can tell when he is being sarcastic. Zack is proud to know, proud to be one of them enough for that, most of the time, but when it comes to this he wishes that Ryan's sarcastic streak was more obvious than Spencer's.
Ryan asking if he can bite Spencer's earlobe is only funny when there isn't a girl fifteen feet away who just texted "GSF 4eva" to her MySpace account.
If you have any food for them, you will need to walk it over to the trash can and put it in. They do not need your food; they do not want your food; they have four catered meals a day, vitamins, snacks, Capri Suns, everything.
Okay, so the hair cookies were gross and the occasional roofie is sixteen kinds of pain in the ass to deal with, but really, they can explain those, there are chemical compulsions to blame.
But when some well-meaning but unskilled ten-year-old gives them brownies, and Spencer takes one? When they're burned or raw or taste inexplicably of cayenne?
Jon doesn't even wait for all the fangirls to be out of earshot before he's suggesting that he has something that will take the taste out of Spencer's mouth, and the way Brendon leers when he says it is hardly subtle.
And Zack hates cupcake frosting more than anything. The dye doesn't wash off, and you can see exactly where Ryan's hands have been.
Author: Elucreh
Pairing: Implied Panic GSF
Rated: PG
Summary: If this was happening on the bus instead of in front of thirty fangirls, each of whom is guaranteed to have an internet connection, it would be hysterical.
Notes: By a lucky twist of fate, I got into the local meet-n-greet before the HCT show. Before the boys came out to do their thing, Zack made a speech, both highly amusing and slightly scary; these five "things" are as close to verbatim as I could manage. Now, the rules are all pretty much reasonable, but what popped into my head was what if really, he's just doing his best to keep the all the gay group sex from getting out? With thanks to
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If you have an item of clothing for them to sign, it must be off your person. It can be a shoe, a hoodie, a backpack, I don't care, but you have to take it off.
Okay, if Brendon weren't one of his guys—or, alternatively, if this was happening on the bus instead of in front of thirty fangirls, each of whom is guaranteed to have an internet connection—the look on his face right now would be hysterical.
The girl is clearly an old pro at this, holding her bra strap taut, out at an angle to her body, not even really looking at Brendon—she's too busy salivating over Spencer, who's standing next to him. Spencer, thank fuck, has clearly realized this and is valiantly trying to make conversation with her without bursting into giggles at Brendon's reaction.
Zack thanks the universe every day for giving him at least one charge with more professionalism than desire to make an ass of himself.
Brendon looks like a deer caught in headlights. Terrified. Breast. Right there. Zack pokes him in the ribs, and Brendon shakes himself to reorient on the strap. He signs it quickly, and turns to the next girl in line with one of those smiles—the girl visibly goes weak in the knees, oblivious to the fact that Brendon is just relieved that all she's holding out is a CD.
Zack shakes his head slightly, making two mental notes: first, make sure it never happens again. Second, figure out how Ryan faked all that evidence that Brendon has actually explored somebody's girlparts without throwing up.
I do not allow hugs. The reason for this is that when you get all clingy, I have to pry you off them kicking and screaming, it's a mess, I don't wanna do that.
Jon has his wide-eyed freak-out face on again. It always unnerves him when he's the focus of some girl's insane devotion.
Zack hands her over to one of the zacklings, as he cannot get Brendon to stop calling the rest of the security team, and turns back to the band. The line for pictures has halted uncertainly, leaving the guys huddled in front of the backdrop.
Spencer wraps an arm around Jon's neck, whispers something in his ear, and the two of them grin at each other. Apparently Jon doesn't mind being the focus of Spencer's insane devotion. Not that Zack needed any further evidence of that.
A flash goes off behind him, and Zack grimaces.
Not that the internet needed it, either.
Fuck.
I do not allow handshakes. The reason for that is, I do not need you crushing Ryan's hands. He needs them to play.
Also, apparently Brendon has to kiss them better. Immediately. Because Ryan is pouting.
Bden, dude, the cameras are right th—
This is not the time to ask to touch their hair, smell their beards, or do anything else that I would qualify as "creepy"
Because it is Ryan's favorite joke to repeat these requests later, and nobody outside his band can tell when he is being sarcastic. Zack is proud to know, proud to be one of them enough for that, most of the time, but when it comes to this he wishes that Ryan's sarcastic streak was more obvious than Spencer's.
Ryan asking if he can bite Spencer's earlobe is only funny when there isn't a girl fifteen feet away who just texted "GSF 4eva" to her MySpace account.
If you have any food for them, you will need to walk it over to the trash can and put it in. They do not need your food; they do not want your food; they have four catered meals a day, vitamins, snacks, Capri Suns, everything.
Okay, so the hair cookies were gross and the occasional roofie is sixteen kinds of pain in the ass to deal with, but really, they can explain those, there are chemical compulsions to blame.
But when some well-meaning but unskilled ten-year-old gives them brownies, and Spencer takes one? When they're burned or raw or taste inexplicably of cayenne?
Jon doesn't even wait for all the fangirls to be out of earshot before he's suggesting that he has something that will take the taste out of Spencer's mouth, and the way Brendon leers when he says it is hardly subtle.
And Zack hates cupcake frosting more than anything. The dye doesn't wash off, and you can see exactly where Ryan's hands have been.
no subject
Date: 2008-06-28 07:44 pm (UTC)