Slashy Nominations 138: Happy Accidents

[thefourthvine]

First, an administrative note: About half of my LJ comment notifications are showing up with nothing in them. At all. Except for the name of the person who left it. Which means that unless the comment is in my journal, or I can guess where the comment was left (like, it's from someone whose journal I left a comment in earlier), I have no way of reading them. If you really need to say something to me, in other words, email is the way to go; thefourthvine at gmail dot com. (Which I originally mistyped as "thefourthvine at gmail dot come." Bodes ill for the set, I'm thinking.)

So. If you were wondering about the State of the TFV, that state is: moody. (Or, in terror alert levels, "Run for the hills. We can live off the land until this is over.") I've been moody all week - not any actual mood, mind you. No, I've been fairly okay there, but my coefficient of moody friction is way, way lower than usual, so I know that the slightest push can convert my potential moodiness to kinetic moodiness, and then they will have to call out the National Guard. That's the way I've been this week.

I'm sure you can imagine the trepidation with which I have approached the internet. I mean, I love this habitation of links and string, but it's not a good place if you're right on the edge of qualifying for Superfund money to clean up your toxic emotions, you know?

And now I'm listening to my neighbors, or rather their teenagers, who are having a party. I'm not sure what the party is for, but if I had to pick a single word to describe its theme, I would go with: bass. Like, the kind where it isn't music so much as it is a seismic tremor capable of triggering alerts as far off as Texas. And I find myself wondering - see, I know it would be a bad idea to force people to live in communities based entirely around musical preferences. It would be, right? I mean, aside from the fact that I would inevitably end up living in the "No Detectable Taste of Any Kind" community, you'd have - you'd have, like, the people who force themselves to listen to Eminem so they don't have to live with the Classical Snots Who Still Believe That Elvis Is a Flash in the Pan, and you'd have the hideous shame of discovering that your recent illicit drunken download of the complete oeuvres of Britney Spears and Celine Dion meant no one wanted to live next to you anymore. That kind of thing.

But, still. I watch my windows vibrate - and these aren't even next door neighbors, mind you; this is the house behind the house next door to us - and I think, Hmmm. Maybe. And, let's see, who'd have to move? Us or them?

So, what with everything, it seemed like a great time to recommend a Random Mishmash of Stuff That Makes Me Cheerful. Go mishmash!

Best Not Exactly FF (But More Than Close Enough) to Feature a Pirate Queen-in-Residence, Which, I Now Realize, Is Exactly What I Want to Be If I Grow Up. Ever so slightly longer but not quite as thick: Toward a quantitative literary sexology of Harry Potter fanfiction, by blythely and circe_tigana. Harry Potter fandom. Well. I have to assume most of you read the title, giggled, said, "Oh, that's fabulous," and clicked. So I'm addressing this strictly to people so strange and unearthly that they don't want to propose marriage to both authors immediately after reading the title. And my first message to you sad few is: seriously, you can take a Spock imitation too far. Fake pointy ears are acceptable in many communities, but failing to find mock academic papers amusing is most definitely not.

And please don't tell me that you're excused because you don't read Harry Potter. You aren't. You'll recognize the concept under study here immediately, possibly with little cries of horror. (Or, if you don't, please tell me about your fandom.) If you've ever read any slash, or any academic papers of any kind, or you've even written a paper or a research report, this is a link for you. And, honestly, if you haven't done at least one of those things, I have to wonder what you're doing here, so how about leaving a comment and telling me? Those are your choices: explain how you've spent your life on Mars, breathing shallowly and avoiding porn and peer-reviewed journals, or go read this. (Hint: pick the latter one.) You'll thank me later. And don't miss the endnotes, which cheer me up more than any SSRI ever could; I don't know precisely how I lived before I read, "The authors wish to thank ... Flowery Twat and Sparcck for peer review." Flowery Twat should be given an award for the excellence of her name, which all by itself is enough to make me downright buoyant.

[Ah. Much better. The toxic emotional sludge is retreating.]

Best FF Featuring What Is, I Believe, the Least Romantic Proposition Ever in All of FF. Given the Characters, I Would Expect Nothing Less. My Sleepy Blue Ocean, by Sandy, aka circusgirl. Scrubs, John Dorian/Perry Cox. It's hard not to be made happy by someone whose life is both weirder and gayer than your own. (That would be J.D., for those not following along at home.) And that's true even when the topic is a wee bit sensitive, because death is just another source of weird gayness for J.D.; if Death actually showed up in Scrubs, he'd do something serious and dramatic, yeah, but he'd be carrying a trick scythe. (For those who are worried about reading a death story: it's a death of a character I'd not previously heard of, who I am pretty sure died in the canon, and also this story didn't seem very sad to me, if a personal testimonial is any good to you.)

In this story, the fine folks of Sacred Heart help J.D. through the five (or six) stages of grieving: Turk forswears mashed potatoes, Janitor reveals his inner, self-published depths (which are just as sticky and disturbing as you'd expect), Carla bonds with J.D. and ruins his shirt, and Dr. Cox goes above and beyond (and wants to hate himself for it, but can't quite manage it). There's a special appearance by Sister Utherina, also known as Yet Another Reason to Fear Nuns. And in the end, J.D.'s problems are solved with spicy pork rinds (no one tell me what those are; seriously, I am not kidding) and sexual healing. Scrubs fan fiction: you have to love it. (And you also have to write it, people. I consider the absence of a large body of Scrubs FF in this universe to be the definitive refutation of Pangloss.)

[Toxic sludge is way off in the distance, emitting little cries of pain.]

Best FF That Demonstrates the Importance of Thinking Outside the Box, Especially If You Are Currently Destined to Die Inside It. The Definition of Stupid, by Tangerine, aka tangeriner. Dead Zone, Johnny Smith/Walt Bannerman. I think this story had me when Johnny describes himself and Walt as frat boys trying to be superheroes, because that's a lot of the charm of the show; these guys weren't meant to be superheroes. Johnny, okay, he's got some of the Chosen One vibe going down, what with all the Only You Can Avert the Apocalypse stuff, and, well, just the visions themselves, but even so, he'd really rather be a teacher. Or, hey, married to Walt's wife. And Walt is totally not meant to be a superhero; he's a cop who doesn't have supersenses or anything. But, you know, there's these visions, so Walt has to try. They both try. And they mostly succeed. Um, sort of.

So. Right. The story. See, I love this story. There are always a few stories that define Yuletide morning for me, and last year, this was one of them; the obituaries, in particular, made for perfect holiday reading ("died suddenly in a sardine can"). (This does leave me with one tiny question: am I the only person on earth who doesn't have a list of stuff to do if I know it's my last night alive? Because I don't. Thinking about it, off the cuff, I'd probably tell Best Beloved and the dogs that I love them, try to call my friends, maybe post some kind of So Long and Thanks for All the Porn message here. Then I'd have sex and go to sleep, because if there's a single word that defines how I want to go, that word is "obliviously." But, you know, I only made that list just now. Am I leaving stuff off? Do the rest of you have detailed ones, all, Tell Muffy I never loved her and Hear Lumina play the piano one last time? I can't be the only one who never really thought about it, right? Right?) And I love - yes, I'm back to the story again - love love the ending. Any Dead Zone story has to be about Johnny, and any story about Johnny has to be about Sarah and Walt, and I love so much that Tangerine gave us that. Plus, hey - sex in a sardine can is always fun.

[Status Report: TFV - cheerful. Sludge - very very sorry for its sins.]

Best FF That Has Given Me a New Motto: "Life Hates Me, but I Hate Life More." Existence As Interesting As Possible, by waxjism. Stargate: Atlantis, Rodney McKay/John Sheppard. Of course, SGA almost always makes me cheerful; I rejoice in the existence of a fandom so inundated with crack that no one blinks at mere telepathy or MPreg anymore, and it's not serious crack if only one person changes species. (I am quite seriously and patiently waiting for someone to write the story where Rodney finds this gun-shaped Ancient thing, and John is all excited and tries it out, but it doesn't do anything until he accidentally points it at Rodney, at which point they discover it's the Ancient version of Calvin's transmogrifier gun. "Colonel, I expect you to get me back. I liked that body, and don't you dare roll your eyes at that. At least you still have eyes! And - wait. Are you thinking about a turkey sandwich?" "Well, yeah. I'm hungry, Rodney." "Don't shoot! Don't shoot!")

But this story (which is totally not crack, even though in a different fandom unicorns would pretty much guarantee a crack rating of +++) also makes me insanely happy, because: dragon. The SG universe is sadly lacking in canon dragons (and don't tell me it's only in fanon that they encounter that kind of shit; promo pictures suggest that poor John Crichton ran into Merlin the second the SG folks got ahold of him). Thank god we have FF to make up the lack. And, seriously, if dragons won't get you to this story, consider John and Rodney stuck on a planet for the better part of two months, with nothing but unicorns and serious seismic instability for company. See? This story is most definitely a source of happiness in my life, and if you haven't read it, know that it can cheer you up, too.

[So. I feel better. And I imagine the Sludge feels better, too, in its new life as a bath tile cleanser. Fan fiction heals, my friends.]

Comments

[vickita.livejournal.com]

if I had to pick a single word to describe its theme, I would go with: bass.

Heh. Do you know what will cut right through that annoying bass line?

Bagpipes. Trust me on this. I can fix you right up. I can even fix you up -- and I know that a lot of people think that this is an oxymoron, but seriously, you just have no idea -- with *bad* bagpipe music. Bagpipe music that, the first time I played the mp3s, I thought that the sound files were corrupted.

But really, any bagpipes. If you want entertainment, you need to be in the car with me when I pull up to a stop light next to some Bass-Mobile. Roll down the windows, crank up "Gravel Walk," and watch the looks on their faces when they start trying to figure out... what is that noise??? Hee.

[thefourthvine.livejournal.com]

Oh my god. You are a genius. Please, please send me hideous bagpipe music. (And, wow. That's not a sentence I ever thought I'd be typing.) Feel free to throw in good bagpipe music if you like, as I'm sure the Neighborhood Brats (there's something in the local water that turns all children to pure annoyance as soon as they reach 13, I swear it; this may be karmic feedback from my own annoying youth) will hate the good stuff just as much.

I have many uses for bagpipe music, actually. A different set of neighbor kids have a garage band. A Linkin Park and Limp Bizkit cover garage band, to be exact. You haven't lived until you've spent every Saturday afternoon listening to a kid with a breaking voice shout: "I did it all for the nookie! The [hideous squeal of tortured guitar] nookie! The [drum machine stops abruptly] nookie! So you can take your cookie and [the rest of the line is obscured by what sounds like every note ever, played all at once on a badly tuned guitar]."

[dzurlady.livejournal.com]

Oh. Oh, *bagpipes*. Yes. That is perfect. If you are uploading some for TFV would you mind sharing it with me? Especially if you upload any good bagpipe music. I have a couple of tracks I am very fond of and would like some more. *hopeful*

If you want entertainment, you need to be in the car with me when I pull up to a stop light next to some Bass-Mobile
*dies* I want to do this *so very much* now.

[trinityofone.livejournal.com]

I totally want to write you transmogrifier fic now. Oh why is my brain broken?

[thefourthvine.livejournal.com]

Eeee! Writeitwriteitwriteitwriteitwriteit!

*heals brain*

*looks very hopeful*

[melpemone.livejournal.com]

I consider the absence of a large body of Scrubs FF in this universe to be the definitive refutation of Pangloss.

Yes, God yes. Bless you, TFV, and blessings upon your entire house. The lack of Scrubs slash (hell, I ship JD/Dr Cox, but I'd totally learn to live with JD/Turk if I had to!) is a constant source of misery and woe in these here parts (take 'parts' to mean whatever you like), and I am on a holy mission to bring the Joy and Glory of Scrubs Fandom unto all and sundry. Mind, it's a slow mission. May I also recommend My Big Breakup (http://www.yuletidetreasure.org/archive/5/mybig.html) by Sabine and My Life In Tights (http://www.yuletidetreasure.org/archive/10/mylife.html) by not jenny, if these haven't yet crossed your path?

[thefourthvine.livejournal.com]

*embraces you*

Another lonely sister/brother/sibling in Scrubs fandom! We must stick together, we few, we proud, we connoisseurs of J.D.'s brain.

May I also recommend My Big Breakup by Sabine and My Life In Tights by not jenny, if these haven't yet crossed your path?

Sadly, I already knew those. My Big Breakup is actually the story that got me into this fandom; when I read that, I didn't even know what Scrubs was. And My Life in Tights is wonderful; I plan to rec it nearer to Christmas time. (Although I may not be able to resist doing it earlier. Is there ever a bad time for J.D. in tights?) I've also recommended My Claustrophobia and My Letter 'O' - I'm assuming you've read those? - which are great stories. And I have four more waiting to be rec'd, and that's all the Scrubs FF I know of, basically.

*sighs*

Still, they're great stories. This fandom must have the best ever good story:total stories ratio.

*cheers up again*

[overly-shy.livejournal.com]

In reference to your blank comment emails, would the Most Recent Comments (http://www.livejournal.com/tools/recent_comments.bml) page be of help to you? I know a lot of people don't find it all that convenient. But I figured it was worth suggesting.

[thefourthvine.livejournal.com]

It's definitely better than no comments; at least I can be sure I'm getting all of the ones people leave on this journal. I just wish there was a way to configure it to show responses to my comments in other people's journals.

*pokes it*

*pokes it some more*

[bathsweaver.livejournal.com]

OhmyGod.

John, and Calvin. The hair.

CROSSOVER!!!

[thefourthvine.livejournal.com]

OMG you're right.

~

Rodney is looking around John's room; as John searches for the DVD he borrowed, Rodney is searching for John's personal item. "You brought a poster of Johnny Cash as your personal item?"

"Nah. That was Sumner's."

"A guitar, then? Oh, god. I bet you learned like four chords and got laid on the strength of them for the next eight years."

"Brought that back on the Daedalus."

"I notice you're not arguing about the chords, though." Rodney looks around one more time and his eyes settle on John's footlocker. Which proves to be locked. But there's 20 chocolate bars waiting for the scientist who can get definitive evidence of John's personal item - turned out he borrowed the Hail Mary recording from Sgt. Daniels, which kept the scientists from picking up his trail for months. Rodney thinks of chocolate - oh, god, Snickers - and starts to pick the lock.

John pauses in his search to look fondly at his guitar. "I feel no need to convince you of my musical prowess, Rodney." Anyway, Rodney's wrong; John learned six chords before he started playing in a weekend band. Good times.

Rodney opens the footlocker and looks inside, where there's just three items. He stares. "You have a...stuffed animal? That was your personal item?"

John whips his around and then he's next to Rodney; he moved so fast Rodney vaguely wondered if he'd teleported. "Leave him alone."

Rodney holds it out of John's reach to inspect it. "Huh. How do you know it's a boy?"

"I mean it, Rodney."

"Do you sleep with him every night?" Rodney holds the tiger up and pretends to make him talk in the squeaky voice Jeannie's bears used to use. "Hello, Dr. McKay," the tiger says. "You are the smartest man in the world for not wasting your personal item on something like me."

Rodney isn't looking, but he wouldn't have been able to dodge John anyway; it's the first time John has ever used his full strength and speed on Rodney. By the time Rodney's aware that John moved, he's on the ground with John's hand on his chest, and John has the stuffed animal in his other hand.

-TBC-

[lovekeller.livejournal.com]

Thanks for the recs - I'm desperately trying to avoid my work today and this will be of immense help.

At my office which is in a commercial/residential area there is a Loser that rolls out of bed 1 pm every afternoon. How do I know this? The S.O.B. turns on his car stereo and goes boom-boom for the next four freakin' hours! There is no way to think straight when the boom-boom keeps coming through your wall. If I had a gun, I would go shoot Loser's car and maybe even Loser to keep him from replacing the boom-boom. PMS and guns don't mix. Until the moment they mix really well.

[thefourthvine.livejournal.com]

I'm desperately trying to avoid my work today and this will be of immense help.

*beams*

That's why I'm here! TFV: Helping People Achieve Their Full Procrastination Potential.

The S.O.B. turns on his car stereo and goes boom-boom for the next four freakin' hours!

Jesus Christ.

...Is he in his car? Is he even outside? Or does he just turn up the volume enough that he can hear it (or at any rate feel it) in the house? Because if the latter is the case, I think you should take up a collection to hire someone to assassinate the radio. If you talked to everyone who lives or works within hearing distance, you could probably get enough donations to kill several replacements, too. Eventually he's bound to get the message. (And that message would be: SHUT UP.)

(Or, alternatively, you could just see if vickita would give you some bad bagpipe music. Apparently bagpipes are the anti-bass.)

[devildoll.livejournal.com]

I am quite seriously and patiently waiting for someone to write the story where Rodney finds this gun-shaped Ancient thing, and John is all excited and tries it out, but it doesn't do anything until he accidentally points it at Rodney, at which point they discover it's the Ancient version of Calvin's transmogrifier gun.

Hee! I'm currently working on a story where John accidentally shoots Rodney with a mysterious gun and it makes him really, really tiny. And my main problem with it at this point is reining myself in. I can't stop. I could write 389 pages of The Adventures of Really Incredibly Tiny Rodney.

SGA does things to your BRAIN.

[thefourthvine.livejournal.com]

SGA does things to your BRAIN.

Yes, it does. Wonderful things. And that is why I love it so.

*waits impatiently for The Adventures of Really Incredibly Tiny Rodney*

[qe2.livejournal.com]

Ever so slightly longer but not quite as thick:

*clicks*

*reads about three words*

*is now in hysterical tears of mostly laughter*

OMG. Serious contact burns from past polyamorous brushes be damned: I want to run off with BOTH of these people. RIGHT NOW.

(I also still want to run off with you, for all sorts of reasons, one of which is that this:

my coefficient of moody friction is way, way lower than usual, so I know that the slightest push can convert my potential moodiness to kinetic moodiness, and then they will have to call out the National Guard. That's the way I've been this week.

is precisely the way I feel right now. Do you hate it? I hate it.)

and also:

[qe2.livejournal.com]

I could actually tell you what pork rinds are, both spicy and otherwise...

[polaris-starz.livejournal.com]

I blame you and setissma (who first linked me a story) for my sudden and overwhelming addiction to SGA. Seriously. I bought the first season, am downloading the second, and have raided your and every other links list and site I can find (and I'm rather surprised at the overlap of Due South writers in the SGA fandom, I can tell you)-- in two weeks. It's psychotic.

[thefourthvine.livejournal.com]

I blame you and setissma (who first linked me a story) for my sudden and overwhelming addiction to SGA.

Yay! My work here is done.

I bought the first season, am downloading the second, and have raided your and every other links list and site I can find -- in two weeks. It's psychotic.

No, no, it's SGA. That's just how people act in this fandom. Welcome to the fold!

(and I'm rather surprised at the overlap of Due South writers in the SGA fandom, I can tell you)

Well, Resonant, Speranza, and Merry all wrote stories in the fandom early on, and where those three go, any dS fan will follow. Well, almost any; we had a few holdouts, and a few went instead to the Dark Side (Supernatural). But, basically, certain writers act like extremely powerful magnets, sucking many other writers in after them. It's a beautiful thing. Now, how we got from 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea to psychic lesbian flying ponies, that's a whole other question.

*loves SGA madly*

[tazical.livejournal.com]

Scrubs! You are hereby ordered to tell us about any other Scrubs fic you ever find. Okay? Because I went looking and found about three, and I moped for a whole entire hour before the next SGA crackfic came along.

Seriously, how is there not more fic in that fandom? If ever a fandom called for totally implausible rubbish, that's the one. *g*

[qe2.livejournal.com]

*koffWRITEITkoff*

[janet-carter.livejournal.com]

Mmm, just what I needed today. Monday is taking a turn for the better. Thank you!

And I join in the chorus of those calling for more Scrubs stories.

*tilts head JD-style, picturing unicorns at Sacred Heart*

[thefourthvine.livejournal.com]

It is one of the great mysteries of fandom that there are so many potential readers for Scrubs stories and yet hardly any writers of them.

*bemoans cruel, unbalanced universe*

Yes! Unicorns at Sacred Heart! Someone needs to write this.

Now. I think I've been more than patient. So someone will volunteer, or someone will be volunteered, capiche?

[blythely.livejournal.com]

♥

xxx

[thefourthvine.livejournal.com]

xoxox

[lucia-tanaka.livejournal.com]

Hey, de-lurking for a tic.

True story: Talking to a fellow fangirl in school today and she said she'd been contemplating doing a crackfic. I asked her what the crack is, and she says a RENT-ish AU, complete with musical numbers and star-crossed lovers.
My response was "And?" because in this fandom, that's not enough to be true crack.

WTF is with SGA that listening to someone plan out Ford as a crossdresser isn't abnormal?! *worried about her crack-filled fandom*

[fanofall.livejournal.com]

OMG Ford is TOTALLY Angel. Your fellow fangirl friend (it took me three tries to type that out, BTW) is so smart.

[fanofall.livejournal.com]

I am the suckiest friend ever, and yet you give porn like this.

You are so amazing. *admires*

[thefourthvine.livejournal.com]

You are not a sucky friend. You're just a busy one. It is Not An Issue. *nods firmly*

(Although that does not, of course, mean that the occasional email telling me what's going on in your life would come amiss. Nope. Not at all. And, in the meantime: *hugs*.)

[kajikia.livejournal.com]

if I had to pick a single word to describe its theme, I would go with: bass.

Because I am a giant dork, I read that as bass the fish. So I thought I would just take this moment to de-lurk and say how much I enjoy your journal. Reading your recommendations is as enjoyable as reading the fics themselves.

Thank you. We now return you to our regularly scheduled lurking.

[thefourthvine.livejournal.com]

Because I am a giant dork, I read that as bass the fish.

And now we know you never did a tour in popslash, because otherwise you would've mentally capitalized the first letter and thought: SQUEE!

But, really, I could get behind a fish-themed party. I would stand in the back yard and crane my neck and try to get a glimpse of the refreshments, even. I like fish. Hell, I like bass (lower case), too, just, you know. Not in such quantity.

I thought I would just take this moment to de-lurk and say how much I enjoy your journal. Reading your recommendations is as enjoyable as reading the fics themselves.

Thank you!

*bounces joyfully*

[apatheia-jane.livejournal.com]

will go read everything.

the sga team does run into something that Ford describes as "looked kinda like a T Rex, sir!" Maybe it was actually a dragon.

About half of the Firefly/SGA fics I've read mention Wash's reaction when shown that planet. *g*

[thefourthvine.livejournal.com]

the sga team does run into something that Ford describes as "looked kinda like a T Rex, sir!" Maybe it was actually a dragon.

I always pictured it as being a lot like the dinosaurs in Jurassic Park, because Ford is the right age to have had the movie be a semi-religious experience. Little bitty arms would be key, therefore. (I also picture Rodney saying, "Must go faster," but I'm pretty sure that's just me.)

About half of the Firefly/SGA fics I've read mention Wash's reaction when shown that planet.

Tragically, I don't even know enough about Firefly to know why.

[flyingtapes.livejournal.com]

sadly, I've read all of these. :( But great recs nonetheless.

[cherryice.livejournal.com]

Harry Potter has been the long-standing fandom of crack, but I think that given a year or so SGA will overtake it. HP does have it on shipper wars and OMGWTF pairings as SGA tends to be more OTP-oriented, but the gap, she is closing.

The comparative sexology thing is still pretty much the best article in the history of ever. I'm just saying.


(In light of the email issues, I was just wondering -- did you get the piece I emailed to you? I'm not trying to be rude, it's just that if it didn't go through I'll send it again. *G*)

http://futago-02.livejournal.com/profile

[(Anonymous)]

Oh god. I am seriously writing a paper on slash now, and how have I never heard of "ever so slightly longer"? From all accounts, it sounds wonderful. But I'm desperate. It's not on the web anymore. Please tell me you have it archived somewhere???
futagoakuten02@yahoo.com

[aderam.livejournal.com]

Hey, I would really like to show a friend of mine "Ever so slightly longer but not quite as thick: Toward a quantitative literary sexology of Harry Potter fanfiction", because she would love it to an unhealthy degree, but the link seems to be broken. You wouldn't happen to know of a current link? I've already done a scour of my common LJ places, and my google-fu only comes up with recs to it and not the actual document.

Thanks in advance. You rock.