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faithfullyfictional · 2 years

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Flatline - Prologue (Peter Parker x Female!OC)

Summary: She was a normal kid once, but when growing up proves tough, one slip changes it all.

Warnings: Defibrillators, Paramedics, Bullying

Word Count: 2,149

A/N: Hey! So, I’ve been sitting on this for months and I haven’t proof read it in about that long also, so I’m not sure how it holds up. It started off with an idea for a character and I wrote a quick chapter of an origin for her and how she got her powers and it turned into a Spiderman fic. I haven’t written more than 2 chapters so far but I have a solid vision for where I want to take it. All I need is the motivation to do so. SO! Imma post what I have so far here and if I get even one bit of decent feedback, then I’ll keep at it.This chapter is mostly just prologue that sets up the OC, Ava McAllistair - a young girl about the same age as Peter with the ability to control and harness electricity.

Born in the city of Vineland, New Jersey, Ava McAllistair was a very normal teenager. In this case, “normal” refers to her impeccable lack of superhuman abilities. At a time when Superheroes were everywhere, Ava took comfort in her super average existence.

She lived in a small townhouse on a quiet street with her mother Naomi and her step-father Tim, a stern - but caring - police officer of the NYPD. The three of them were incredibly close throughout her childhood. They always ate together, every night. They’d say grace and give thanks. They’d have movie nights and game nights. But when Ava started high school, she became more and more distant each day and those precious moments grew fewer and further apart. To Ava, it seemed that all the things she valued so much just seemed to become trivial. It was as though her mind had grown a fog that only cleared when she was in her room. All alone.

At school, Ava was never really picked on. As a matter of fact she had many friends. The real problem was that the friends she had weren't the nicest of people. You see, her friends were bullies. They picked on the nerds and the geeks and the loners and anyone else they didn’t deem as cool as they thought they were. They didn’t start off that way. They had all been friends since kindergarten and they were always so carefree and full of light, but now that they were teenagers, something had changed. It just happened one day and she didn’t have the spine to tell them to stop. The funny thing was that Ava was a nerd, but she decided it was better if she started hiding that from them all. Just in case they decided to turn on her.

She was top of all of her classes and the moment she got the scores from her tests and quizzes, she’d hide them. Whenever the girls started poking fun at people, she would just hang her head and keep quiet. She hoped they’d just grow out of it one day and then things could just go back to how they were before… but that never happened.

Eventually, the day came when she couldn’t stay silent anymore. It was her 16th birthday, but her friends were more preoccupied with their latest victim than planning any celebrations. They were packing up for the day when one of the girls started proposing a scheme.

“You know that little dweeb Annie? About two feet tall? Carries around that lame Star Trek lunchbox?” The group began tittering at the mention of the sci-fi franchise, which made Ava Shudder. The Next Generation was her favourite show. She watched it every night. “I spotted her on my way home yesterday. She was all by herself. I’ve been looking for an excuse to slam that hag since she ratted me out for peeking at her History sheet.” An evil smirk slipped onto her face. “What do you guys think?”

Everyone started nodding and planning as they left the building. Ava said nothing and she did even less. She just followed behind them like a brainwashed zombie. She would usually walk home with them because she lived further away than most of the others and didn’t want to be alone. The streets are no place for a weakling like her to walk alone.

They followed close behind their prey until they were far enough from the school and when they were close enough to pounce, they swiped her lunchbox right out of her hands.

“Hey!” She cried, reaching for the steel handle but ultimately tripping up. The girls started skipping ahead, passing the box from person to person like a ball in a twisted game of catch until the tallest girl, who wore a chunky green cardigan, took it and ran. She waved it above her head as she went while Annie stumbled to her feet and began running after them as fast as her legs could carry her.

“Catch us if you can, Ann!” One of them screeched as the others echoed.

They ran through the streets laughing and jeering, watching her race after them, when they ended up by an old power station. It was on a dark street corner surrounded by a tall wired fence and barbed wire. The fencing was littered with big signs. Signs that said things like Keep Out and Danger. There was even a sign that said Biohazard in big red letters gracing the padlocked gate.

One of the girls grabbed the box from her comrade. This girl was considerably shorter and sturdier than the others. With big front teeth and long frizzy hair, it would be all too easy to mistake her for a Shetland pony.

“Good luck catching this, bitch!” She cackled as she catapulted the box over the fence. Everyone but Ava and Annie roared with laughter as it hit off a pylon right in the middle of the small enclosure. They were about to run away when Ava cracked.

“You know what? Fuck this. Fuck you guys! I’ve had it!” She screamed, visibly shaking. She leapt up onto the fence and started to climb, calling back to Annie “Don’t worry, I’ll fix this.” and ignoring the little sign that read Warning: Death.

“Ava stop!” Annie cried. “It’s just a lunchbox!”

Annie tried to tell her not to do it. She told her to just drop the whole thing but Ava was determined to do the right thing for once. To prove that she wasn’t an asshole like the others. However, when she reached the other side of the fence, her foot got caught on a strip of black and yellow tape and she slipped. Everything started to slow down at that moment. She felt her vision blur and her whole body felt like it was sinking to the bottom of a pool. Before she could close her eyes and pray she had been more careful, she found herself landing right on top of a large electrified metal structure and frying herself. When she bounced onto the ground, her “friends” ran off screaming but Annie immediately grabbed her phone and called for help. But for Ava, everything went black.

Her heart had stopped.

The ambulance came as quick as it could and paramedics had to set up the defibrillator to restart her heart. When she came to, she shot up straight. It felt like her limbs were filled with bees and her head was filled with air. The paramedics claim that they saw her eyes go bright for a second, like a camera flash, and the entire city suffered from a brief blackout until she passed out again.

She woke up in hospital a week later. When she went home, it didn’t take her long to notice something… wasn’t quite right. It started with little things. Lights in her house would flicker when she entered a room. Her phone screen would go black for a few seconds and then go back to normal as though it had been fine the whole time. There was one time when she could have sworn the toaster could read her mind. The moment she thought “Man, I wish this toast would hurry up and pop already”, it did! It sounds crazy, stupid even, but she really thought she had super powers in that moment, and she almost hoped that she did. Toast summoning seemed like the best damn power ever. But that’s when things started getting even weirder.

She started feeling these strong magnetic pulses through her arms whenever she flicked a switch. The moment her skin made contact with the smooth plastic socket it was like being set on fire. The first time it happened she screamed so loud her mother thought she had been shot. Eventually, Ava started to connect the dots.

She’d shut off all the lights, sit on her bedroom floor with her laptop on in front of her and press her hands to the screen. She’d whisper things to herself.

“Come on. You can do it. Turn off.” Whenever she tried this, the screen would go black and the air around her seemed to vibrate. Everyday when she returned from school and she was alone, she would set up her new practice space and try again until she began to sense those vibrations get stronger and stronger. They felt so solid she could almost touch them, and when she willed those vibrations to move, they’d go wherever she wanted them to. With a single strained thought, she could move them from inside the laptop into the lights, switching them on all at once. It took a lot out of her, but she knew that if she kept trying, it would get easier and easier and her powers would get stronger and stronger.

Soon enough she was able to adjust the frequency of the buzzing which allowed her to make the lights brighter (or dimmer) at will. Something had happened to her that day at the power station. She couldn’t explain it, but somehow that accident had given Ava the ability to control electricity and static pulses. It scared her, but against all odds, she embraced this new chapter in her life. Though she knew it would have to remain hidden. This was one thing she wanted to keep all to herself.

However, whilst things at home were finally starting to look up, her school life had taken a plummet. She had ditched those bitches she used to call friends. That wasn’t the problem though. They were awful and she was better off without them but after the accident everyone heard about her cardiac event. They started calling her all sorts of horrid names. The fan favourite seemed to be “Freak-enstien” which, she had to had it to them, was pretty smart. Stupidly unoriginal, of course, but she could see the work behind it. She was dead for 5 minutes. The sparks from the conductors did resemble lighting when she hit metal. Not to mention that freak power surge.

The one thing she really couldn’t handle though was when they would creep up behind her in the halls and scream “SHE’S ALIVE!” in her ears. The first ten times they did it gave her the fright of her life, which was saying something since she had literally seen the gates of Heaven (or Valhalla or whatever afterlife she was subscribing to that week). She thought her heart was going to stop all over again… but then came the eleventh time. The twelfth time. Soon enough, she became numb to it. Not in a thick-skin way, though. In a what’s-the-point-anymore way.

Her parents decided it was getting out of hand when she stopped going to school. They decided it was time to do something before things got worse. It killed them to see their little girl go through something like that. So they decided to move to New York to start fresh. It was the perfect plan. Tim worked there anyway so it meant he could sleep a few hours longer in the mornings, Naomi could easily get transferred to a closer branch of the bank she worked for, and Ava could apply for a place at that genius school. Midtown, was it?. Her parents knew that she was too smart to go just anywhere anyway. She deserved a fair shot and they would do anything to make sure she got it.

Ava had also decided that, not only was this a great idea, but she was going to make this the freshest start possible. Wipe the slate clean, then disinfect it, then burn it to the ground and build a much better and cleaner slate. One thing people often do when starting fresh is change their appearance, so Ava was certainly no exception to this. She went out and bought the brightest hair dye she could find. The shade was called “Electric Blue” which she found humorous and very fitting. Not to mention that the sparks that she was now capable of emitting from her fingertips were in fact blue of hue. It was destiny. She took the dye home and rinsed her hair with it, staining the once dirty blonde strands a vivid sapphire. She immediately started questioning that decision but tried to stay confident. Ava was never really one for grabbing attention, but perhaps the new and improved Ava was? At this point, any change had to be a good change. It was time to embrace it.

Things were going to be different this time. They had to be. Ava wasn’t going to make the same mistakes again. If she was going to make friends, it would only be with the right sort or nobody at all. If she was going to make friends, she would have to find herself some nerds. Things could only get better.

#fanfic #fan fiction #spiderman #peter parker #spiderman x oc #spiderman x reader #peter parker x oc #peter parker x reader #marvel #mcu #marvel comics #oc #superhero #flatline

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trainsinanime · 3 years

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I think in retrospect, my post bitching about Ladrien was a mistake. It was written out of frustration, in response to a post that I perceived as trying to push Ladrien as morally superior to Marichat. That was probably not the right way to read this post. And even if it had been, the correct response would certainly not have been to vague-tumble (sub-tumble?) about it. I should just delete it.

…or I can double down and post more controversial Miraculous Ladybug shipping hot takes. Which one of these would be more fun? Difficult, difficult…

Adrigami vs Lukanette

I have seen more than one post argue that people prefer Lukanette over Adrigami because of racism, or because Kagami is too pushy, or similar. Now, for the record, I prefer anything above Lukanette and I personally love to ship Adrigaminette (specifically the version where everyone involved is really stupid about it). But I don’t think the moralistic argument can explain all of why Lukanette is so popular.

The problem is that we all love our point of view character Marinette and want good things to happen to her. Yes, there are exceptions in the fandom, but those are a small minority, no matter how loud they are. Adrigami is fun, interesting, engaging, they have both common points and interesting conflicts, and I’d absolutely love to watch a show about it… but Adrigami has one key drawback: It makes Marinette sad. And nobody wants that.

Lukanette, on the other hand, doesn’t make anyone (in universe) sad. Adrien and Kagami are okay with it, and it doesn't seem to affect Marinette's emotional state at all. (Yeah, sorry, not a fan of Luka, but I'll try not to dwell on it because my reasons for not liking him are not interesting, much like he is.)

Lukanette also works really well if you want to be salty about stuff but aren’t willing to go full Batman. The main salt objection to Adrien is that Chat Noir can be too pushy with his romantic feelings, which is arguably true, and that this means he is a horrible person, which I don’t exactly agree with. That cannot be said about Luka, who has no flaws, wishes, character motivation or similar nasty things that could get in the way.

All of these factors have nothing to do with Kagami whatsoever. Now, if you’re wondering why Lukanette is more popular than Kagaminette, then we’re getting somewhere.

Next up, more controversial opinions about other pairings:

Adrienette

Horrible, awful. Adrinette is king.

Marichat

Just to reiterate: I love Marichat moments. I don’t think regular Marichat dates, whether that is romantic dates or friend dates, works at all. Marichat lives from the fact that they’re both friends, yes, but also from the low-key spy vs spy antics where they try to convince each other that they’re not actually best friends yet. (Ladrien could do the same but they’re too busy awkwardly blushing at each other to get any sustained antics going)

Ladynoir

These two do not go on patrols in canon. I know every fan claims so, but there’s no canon evidence, except for Dark Owl/Hibou Noir, where the regular patrols are clearly established as something unusual that both of them want to end soon. Yes, I know there’s one instagram post, and supposedly one tweet (not that I’ve ever seen it), but it’s not in the show. And let’s be real, why would they go on patrols? Hawkmoth canonically creates Akumas whenever, including frequently during school hours. Patrols can’t help against that. That’s why our heroes canonically use alerting apps.

The reason why people love patrols is because it gets Ladynoir together without having to invent an Akuma. I can see the appeal behind that… but honestly, isn’t that just lazy? The show generally makes sure to show us the tail end of the adventure that brought them together this time, and I think that is more fun. Alternatively, sometimes, the show just doesn’t bother to explain why they’re together in costume at all (e.g. the end of Chat Blanc), and it turns out that this is also a thing you can do and nobody will hate you for it.

Adrinette

This may be my most controversial opinion yet, but I want these two crazy kids to kiss and hold hands and grow old together.

Adrigaminette

Yes, I know it'll never be canon. But I refuse to believe that they didn't realise people would ship it when they wrote the beginning of Heart Hunter. That whole sequence seems like it was designed to get me to ship it, and you know what? It succeeded.

Maribat aka Daminette

Kill it with fire.

Alyanette

We don’t have enough of this.

Alyadrien

People, including Zag, are sleeping on what a great platonic friendship pairing this could be. Just those two geeking out about how great Ladybug, Marinette, Nino and Carapace are.

Kagaminette

I have nothing but love for this pairing; I'm just including it here for completeness.

GabeNath

The problem with that ship is that I don’t want good things to happen to either of these people. Which means I'm perfectly okay with the canon version of this ship, where it's clear that both of them are emotionally stunted, callous and immoral and are never going to find happiness. The fact that it’s technically cheating only adds to that. I am not fond of fan versions where these two and Adrien are one happy family, though.

DJWifi

The pairing is perfect, but I have to say: Lady WiFi is cooler and fits better for Alya than Rena Rouge. Who ever thought to give the journalist the Miraculous that is all about lying and deception?

I’m very okay with Nino not being the Bubbler, though.

JuleRose

Come on Zag, they deserve to be unambiguously canon.

MarcNath

See JuleRose. Actually, I think when directly compared to JuleRose, they could really do with some more development, some more scenes of them together. I do ship it, but they seemed to have gotten the “official unacknowledged gay boys couple” almost out of nowhere.

MarcNath where Nath means Nathalie

I don’t think it would be a good idea at all, but the troll part in me (which is responsible for this post existing in the first place) thinks it might be worth exploring.

MariLila

We need more of this ultimate crack ship.

Adrigamilukanette

Get rid of Luka and then we’re talking.

Chloegami

I used to think it was a stupid idea but I’ve read a number of very well written slow-burn stories about them, so now I ship it.

Felinette

I don’t get it at all. I feel like I should write more about it in a post like this, but I'm mostly just baffled by its existence.

Lukagami

Kagami deserves better.

Juleka/Lila

I just saw that this tag exists, on a "here are my drabbles" fic that was last updated in 2018, before it got to the Juleka/Lila part, and now I’m both intrigued and frustrated.

Adrichat

Hah, you had almost forgotten about that, hadn’t you?

#miraculous ladybug #mlb meta #mlb trolling

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baby-bearie · 4 years

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1k mutuals appreciation

before i start i want to say a ginormous THANK YOU to everyone who’s complimented my work, followed me and to all my mutuals because you’ve all given me a tumblr family and the funnest friends ever. you all really made me feel like i was important to you, and you made me want to keep writing and being able to improve with a bunch of writers around me really motivated that. i feel special around you guys and that’s something everyone should be able to experience. for real, i love you. all of you.

@katie-avery lets start with one of my oldest mutuals from our boy band days🥺 kit kat u have been a rock in my life, and are undoubtedly one of the purest people i’ve met. it warms my heart to know you can come to me, because i always feel comfortable talking to you, you make me feel loved and safe.

@maybe-maybanks and @snarkystarkey the moms of the og wdw girls HAHAHA i know we don’t talk as much as we used to, but you both have really been amazing people to me, and i’ve aspired to have your energy and kindness (and talent) towards everyone. it’s crazy that i’ve known you for a year and a little longer, because when i type cool and weird the first words that come into my autocorrect are coolkidcorbyn and keepseaveyweird.

@sunflowermotel mads. maddie. love of my life. same thing. you are SO INSPIRING. your writing is utter perfection and you are one of the calmest, most comforting people to talk to. you’re like home, you make me feel safe and loved. also you’re drop dead gorgeous and i want to remind you. your comments when i tag you in obx fics even though you’ve never watched obx make me so happy. side note: go watch obx. i’m not messing around, mads, i WILL make this happen.

@drew-starkey ari i have loved you since FOREVER and it has been inspiring watching you grow and change and become who you are now. i love hearing from you, and i love talking to you. your sweetness and ability to make everyone feel better lights up the faces of everyone you touch. i’m so happy i can say i’ve known you since you were a prettymuch blog.

@5sos-seavey @heartbreak-hemmings i know we’ve lost touch over the past few months, but i miss u and my boy band gals SO MUCH. you were both constantly there for me, and i always loved supporting you. i hope all is well, and you’re happy.

@jjmaebank nikki my QUEEN my absolute QUEEN i don’t know how you do it. you’re one of Those People, you know? you have an energy that just attracts people to you! you talk to people as if they’re your best friend, you make them feel special. you’re absolutely hilarious, and it’s so easy to talk to you. i STRIVE to be like you.

@ceruleanjj mattie u r my daily dose of seratonin i sWEAR. YOU’RE THE ONLY ONE WHO LAUGHS AT MY JOKES AND IT MAKES ME SO HAPPY!! ur obx tik tok drafts are ducking hilarious and u better send me the new one u said u would. also, WATCH NEW GIRL. you’re one of the funnest people i’ve ever talked to, and you get me and my shitty humor like we’re soul sisters.

@adoreyoudrews LIL I LOVE YOU UGH. you’re the sweetest person ever and you’re SO FUN! i see you as a kind of mentor. shoutout to you for putting me in the beans chat you have ALWAYS helped me feel welcomed since i met you! you’re like the cool older sister everybody wants, i love being your friend!

@midnightmagicmusings okay jade i have so much adoration in me for you. you are by far one of the most compassionate, kindest people i’ve been able to talk to, and you make me feel loved when you text just to check up on me. i also love when you pop up on my for you page, i get to be like ‘oh my gosh that’s my friend look at her’

@pogue-writings cort, u beautiful bitch. i know we haven’t known each other for very long , but you are so PERFECT. like everything about you screams queen, idol, icon. you’re sweet and put together and don’t even get me STARTED on the writing. cort, my dearest, nobody is perfect. but u come a hell of a lot closer than anyone i know.

@milaonthemoon dude u are like next level boujee. you’re SO pretty, first of all, second of all you just give off diamond, gossip girl, badass vibes. we haven’t talked much outside of the gc, but you are hilarious. and seriously, i LOVE being able to say we’re mutuals.

@lavenderpope juana juana juana u make me laugh SO HARD i swear i’m super bad at talking to you and talking in the group chat in general but you are so fucking funny the things u send are sending me asldlaksjdfj the day you haven’t managed to make me smile is the day hell freezes over.

@rudypankwow maddie the last of my beans i know we like just met, but you seem like such a genuine person. since i’ve started writing for obx and made more friends in this community i’ve always seen you as one of the like super cool, out-of-my-league mutuals so now that we’re friends i feel very in awe of u sometimes. maybe i’m just geeking.

and to all the mutuals who i don’t get to talk to very often but whom i still adore, i LOVE YOU, you’ve all been so kind to me. @jjtheangel @myjjbaby @rudys-pankow @jjouterbanks @jjswifey @driverpicksthe-music just to name a few. if i didn’t tag you, i’m sorry, i’m just a little pressed for time right now, but i promise i am thinking of you and thanking you for getting me to 1k! excited to keep going with u guys.

#for real #i love every single one of you

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mirkwoodshewolf · 4 years

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Christmas with the Klines; Queen x reader x oc male

*Author’s note*

Well gang here we go with the long awaited Christmas fic for my Rock Angel series (god this whole year has been crazy with this series that I started one year ago since the 8th this month. Thank you all to those who have supported this series). Now I’ve been wanting to write this specific fic since last year but after Christmas ended last year I had no motivation to write it, but in light of the last Christmas for the 2010 decade, might as well close this year off with a bang for my Rock Angel series.

I hope you all enjoy this fic and I hope you all have a happy Holidays whether Christmas/Kwanzaa/Hannukah, and I hope the new decade of 2020 brings us better happiness and good fortune.

Taglist:

@plethora-of-things

@psychosupernatural

@waddles03

@ixchel-9275

@platawnic

@queendeakyy

@kairosfreddie

@simonedk

@onebigfangirlworld

@naturalswifty89

@starswin

@labessieisallama

@dj-lowkey

@isabella-bby

@5sos-wdw

@bohemiansweede

@geek-and-proud

__________________________________________________________

*Dec. 22nd, 1983*

It was that time of year again. The greatest time of year, especially in England. Christmas time. Just the other day, the guys and I finished our last show before the holiday break and then after New Year’s we would be back on the road again to finish the Angel-Queen tour. It was also special because now I finally had me a good boyfriend to spend the holidays with.

Don’t get me wrong, the guys are awesome and their families have been so welcoming to me. With Christmas Eve at Freddie’s with his party and then Christmas day dinner location changes every year, like last year it was at Deacy’s and this year Roger was hosting the dinner.

But it is nice to spend it with someone around my age, and one that I can share a romantic Christmas with this time, unlike back with Adam.

This year however was gonna be different, because this year I wasn’t going to join the guys for Christmas. Jack and I talked and he said that it would be a good idea for me to meet his family, since he had met mine.

I agreed to the idea but I won’t deny that I was fucking nervous. I mean he’s told me all about his mum, step-father, cousins and their family but I was really nervous to meet them, especially his mum.

I had no idea what she’ll think of a rockstar dating her son, would she like me or automatically have an image of me based off the Sex, Drugs and Rock and Roll motto?

“Yeah. Yes mom we’ll be there tomorrow morning. Yep flight’s all cleared to go and snow’s not to come till tomorrow night. Don’t worry we’re on the first flight tonight. Mom stop worrying.” Jack, who was on the phone, looked at me and made a funny face which made me softly chuckle. “Yes we can’t wait to see you too. Love you too mom, bye.” He hung up and sighed heavily. I rubbed his shoulder. “I know but sometimes she baby’s me too much.” He sighed. I giggled as I leaned against his back and wrapped my arms around his waist.

“That just means she loved you so much.” I rubbed his back for a moment of silence before I asked him “Do you think she’ll like me?” he turned towards me and he said.

“She’ll love you.”

“How do you know that?” he cupped my face into his hands and said as he leaned his forehead against mine.

“I’ve told her about you. And she’s been begging me to bring you over. Especially since it was made official by the press that the Rock Angel had herself a lover boy.” I eye rolled remembering the first tabloid that got released after Jack and I were caught kissing in Paris before the concert. “Hey,” he stroked my cheek and we both stared into each other’s eyes. “It’s gonna be okay. My whole family’s gonna love you.”

“How is it you know exactly what to say to put me at ease?”

“Just lucky I guess.” He shrugged as he grinned innocently. I smiled and as we leaned in and almost kissed each other, the phone rang. I groaned and dropped my head down onto his shoulder as I went and picked it up.

“Hello?”

‘Well about bloody time you picked up.’

“What do you want Roger?”

‘Well judging by the tone in your voice missy seems I interrupted something special. Good.’

“Just say what you called to ask me Rog.”

‘Alright, alright no need to get your knickers in a twist lovie. I wanted to ask you in Dominque’s stand about what time you’ll be coming over to help her with the Christmas dinner?’ Oh god—I knew this had to come so might as well get it out now.

“Actually Rog I—I’m not going this year.”

‘Oh okay so you’re not—WHAT!?!? WHAT DO YOU MEAN NOT COMING!!!’ I pulled the phone away from my ear as he shouted out. I turned to Jack and I mouthed out ‘I’m so sorry.’

“Roger don’t be so—”

‘I’ll fucking be as hysterical as I want to be! Lovie you always come for Christmas dinners. Does this also mean you’ll be missing Fred’s party too. You’re thankful he’s not hosting this year cause this is just a taste had you told him you weren’t coming.’

“I know. And yes I’m not going to the Christmas eve party either.”

‘Oh lovie, (y/n), (y/n), (y/n), (y/n) lovie. My little lion cub why not?’

“Well—I’ll be in America. See Jack has invited me over for Christmas with his family. And his mum has also insisted on meeting me since we are an official couple.”

‘But can’t you at least spend the New Year with them?’

“It’s too late Rog. Jack and I bought our tickets for tonight and we’ll be in America till the New Year.”

‘But—’

“It’s settled Roger I’m sorry. Now please no begging, whining or pleading. Tell Felix he’ll expect his gift from his auntie right at Christmas, along with all my other nephews and nieces. Goodbye Roger, have a safe Christmas and don’t get hammered again like you did last year.”

I then hung up the phone before another debate could start. I sighed heavily and felt Jack now beginning to massage my shoulders.

“I swear I love that man like a father but sometimes he can be so—hysterical it’s not even funny.”

“Ohh don’t let it get to you baby. That just means he loves you so much.” He threw my words back at his face. I raised my brow at him and he just grinned back at me.

“Guess we both have got ourselves some smothers huh?”

“Can’t argue there. So—shall we get some sleep before our flight?”

“Nah we can just sleep on the flight. Now let’s see we’ve got—4 hours till we have to leave for the airport. I say we order in and then we can head out to the airport shortly after? Cause during the holidays transportation to the airports are always crazy.”

“That works for me.” I smiled and rung up the number for the Chinese restaurant that I usually get my takeout’s from. Within fifteen minutes our food finally arrived and Jack and I sat down at the couch watching some old Christmas movies as we ate our dinner.

Once we got done, I took out my bins for trash collecting, we both ran through a checklist to make sure we got everything, especially Jack. Then once the hour was up we headed on out and hailed a cabbie to the airport. When we reached the airport, of course it wasn’t easy not only dealing with long security and getting our passports checked out, but also fans were stopping us wanting me to sign their CD’s, posters, or wanting pictures.

Of course I didn’t want to seem rude but Jack and I needed to get to our flights. So I signed a few things but refused photos because we needed to get to our gate before the plane took off. Thankfully we made it just as the first class seating’s were being called up.

Jack and I handed the woman our tickets and passports and she checked us out and told us to have a safe flight to the States. Jack and I went through the tunnel and we managed to find our seats. I sighed heavily as I leaned back in my seat.

“Hey, we made it didn’t we?”

“Yes. Thankfully. I’m just so sorry you also had to deal with the threatening male fans telling you to stay away.”

“Yeah well they’re just gonna have to deal with it. Cause I don’t plan on leaving you soon.” I smiled softly and kissed him. I cuddled close to him as we waited for about 20 minutes till finally the plane was ready to take off.

After getting some snacks and a few glasses of champagne, Jack and I took out the blanket and our neck pillows and cuddled close together before finally falling asleep.

When I woke up, I groaned and stretched my legs as best I could and let out a yawn.

“Good morning.” I looked up to see Jack smiling tiredly down at me.

“Good morning.” I moaned tiredly.

“Hello beautiful.” I hummed a chuckle and I said.

“We there yet?”

“Have a look out the window.” I leaned over him and looked out to see a small little town just below us. “Baby, welcome to Lebanon, Kansas.” He packed up the blankets while I packed away the neck pillows and out pilot told us we would begin our decent into Lebanon and to get back into our seats and to fasten our seatbelts. Thankfully there wasn’t any turbulence going down (which I am always thankful for).

And within ten minutes we landed in Lebanon airport. It was a small airport compared to what I’ve seen before in the big cities but it didn’t matter cause it was just as busy as any other airport is, especially around the holidays.

After getting our passports checked out and the worker telling Jack welcome home and telling me to have a good Christmas. As we walked out and headed towards the baggage claim, there was a loud booming voice that seemed to echo throughout the chaos in the airport.

“Jack! YO JACK!” We looked up and as a few people passed by, I saw a man around Roger’s age maybe even a bit older than him waving his hand in the air. He had dark brown hair and had a dark beard starting to grow around his face.

“Ahh shit.” He muttered.

“Wait is that….”

“Yeah, My eldest cousin.” He came up to us with a wide smile and his arms extended.

“There he is. C’mere lover boy!” Jack’s cousin pulled Jack in for a noogie.

“Hey Jensen, been a long time.”

“When Jared told me you’d be staying across the pond till Christmas I almost didn’t want to believe it. Please tell me you haven’t fully given up real American football.”

“No I haven’t.” Jack groaned as he managed to get out of his cousin’s grip.

“Ehh that’s my boy!” he then turned towards me and said, “Oh hohoho. So this is the British beauty that kept you in England huh?”

“Jensen, this is (y/n). (Y/n) my older cousin Jensen.”

“Enchanté mademoiselle.” He casually flirted but of course his mispronunciation in the French tone was so bad it was funny.

“Le plaisir est tout à moi monsieur.” I told him and of course he just gaped at me which made me laugh.

“Jack I thought you said she was British.”

“I can speak several languages. Just because I’m a rockstar doesn’t mean I’m not educated or dropped out of high school to do so.”

“He didn’t mean any offense babe, right Jensen?” Jack sneered towards him as he spoke his cousin’s name.

“Yeah, right, right. I just wasn’t expected a reply in French.”

“Brian helped teach me a few languages. He said it makes the audience feel more involved when you speak in their language.”

“Boy Jared’s gonna love you. Guy has an ear for languages. So come on you two lovebirds, let’s get your bags and onto home. Aunt Kelly’s been calling me non-stop to pick you guys up on my way up here after getting some work done.” As he walked away Jack said.

“He owns a mechanic shop in Austin, Texas.”

“The one your uncle owned?”

“Yep. Jensen got it last year after his dad passed away from a heart attack.”

“Oh I’m so sorry to hear that.”

“It’s fine. Seems like he’s moved on from his grief last I saw him at the start of the summer.”

“Well are you two coming or not?” Jack rolled his eyes and took my hand and we headed on over to the baggage claim. After waiting about seven minutes for our bags to come and another nine to finally find our bags we then headed out to the parking garage and there we saw a 1967 black Chevy Impala.

“Wow, what Roger wouldn’t give to see that car.” I muttered.

“Interested in cars?” asked Jensen as he opened up the trunk and he and Jack put the heavy suitcases into the trunk.

“Well not really. I prefer bikes.”

“Oh really, what do you ride?”

“Well for my birthday earlier this year my—my friend gave me a red Honda CB750 red Nightwing.” Jensen whistled.

“Damn I’ve seen only a couple of those in my shop, mostly mountain bikes or four-wheelers. I’d give anything to see that beautiful thing.”

“Well next time you’re in London give me a buzz and I’ll introduce you.”

“It would be an honor Angel.” Wow this guy was a fan of cars and bikes much like Roger was. Oh god—another Roger Taylor. And an American one at that, just what the world needs.

“Okay well better not keep mom waiting. Let’s get going Jensen.”

“Righty-o cousin of mine. Hope in the back with your lady.”

“Are you ever gonna let me in the front seat?”

“As long as I’m alive, hell no.” Jack fussed but I took his arm and said.

“Oh come on you big baby.” I opened the door and got inside and Jack slide beside me while Jensen got in the driver’s seat and turned on the engine which purred and revved on.

“Ahh, love to hear this old girl purr. Got her as a present from my old man after I returned from the war.”

“The war? What war?” I asked.

“Didn’t lover boy tell you that I fought in Vietnam?”

“No. He did not.” I said as I turned to Jack.

“Is it really that important?”

“Uh hell yeah it is. My reputation is at stake, you think I’d just let you tell this lovely lady I just worked at my pop’s mechanic shop and now own it. Oh hell no pal!” As we pulled out of the airport I was then told of Jensen’s career in Vietnam in the Marines.

I was told he got the Medal of honor for saving his fleet from an oncoming ambush, even though it was against protocol to avert from the trail they were supposed to go on. He saved over 300 soldiers that day by diverting them away from the ambush.

After about an hour and a half on the road, we drove along a dirt path until we finally came up to a beautiful farmhouse. It kinda reminded me of Rockfield farm with a house on one side of the hill and the barn just down below.

Jensen parked his car and shut the engine off and I could see that standing on the porch was a man around Jensen’s age with short black hair and wearing probably the worst Christmas jumper I have ever seen.

“Oh god Misha I told him not to wear that damn thing.” Jensen muttered, oh so this was Jack’s stepfather. We all got out of the car and that’s when Misha came down the steps of the porch and he said.

“Well our long lost sheep has finally returned. Hey Jack.”

“Hey dad.” Jack smiled as he walked up to his stepdad and the two of them hugged each other. “So where is she?”

“She’s right here.” The two of them turned to me and Jack introduced us. “Dad, I’d like you to meet (y/n) (l/n). (Y/n) this is my dad Misha.”

“Well in literal terms I’m his stepdad but I did help raise this little nugget from the day he was born.” Misha said as he ruffled Jack’s hair. I smiled and extended my arm and said.

“Jack’s told me so much about you Mr. Collins.”

“Oh please call me Misha. And our Jack has definitely told us a lot about you.” I turned to Jack anxiously and he assured me.

“Good things babe I promise.”

“Jack?” a female voice soon called out. Then standing at the door was a fairly beautiful young woman. She had shoulder length styled brown hair with highlights at the tips, I could definitely see some of Jack’s features from her like her eyes, nose, and some of her facial features almost resembled Jack’s to a T.

“Mom.”

“You’re back!” she then raced down the steps and immediately embraced her son.

It was such a warm and touching moment, kinda reminded me of my mum whenever she and dad would return from a gig or even just from their jobs. Like Veronica, Jack’s mum beamed with a beautiful aurora that just screamed ‘motherhood’ and ‘warmly’.

“Oh my baby boy’s finally home. I just can’t believe you’re finally home. Never stay away from me that long okay I missed you too much.” She kissed her son’s cheek once more and Jack said.

“Mom please don’t embarrass me.”

“Oh stop it. I’m your mother that’s kinda my job.” She teased. It was then she turned and saw me.

Oh bugger here we go. But keep calm (y/n), remember what Veronica, Dominque and Chrissie told you. The biggest impression you must make when being introduced to your boyfriend’s family is to be approachable to the mother.

She will be the most protective so just remain calm, relaxed, be yourself and hopefully she won’t smell your fear.

“Is this her?”

“Yep. Mom, this is my girlfriend (y/n) (l/n). (Y/n), this is my mom Kelly Kline.” She then came right up to me and I took a soft but deep breath.

“Hello Mrs. Kline. It—it is an honor to finally meet the woman who raised such a gentleman.” She looked me over a few times before finally saying.

“Well I’m glad that my teachings came in handy for someone in the end. Jack told me of how you two met and frankly I never would’ve thought celebrities had to deal with that day in and day out.”

“Yeah it—always comes with the territory. Especially with women in the industry.”

“That’s just dreadful. But I am thankful my son stepped in when he did. And please (y/n), call me Kelly.” She said as she took my hands in hers, her thumbs gently stroking the back of my hands comfortingly. She walked back over to Jack and I thought I heard her say to him, “She’s a pretty one Jack.”

“Alright well why don’t we get you two settled inside, you must be exhausted from the trip.” Jensen and Misha then helped with the bags while Jack, his mum and I went inside the house.

It was a quaint little house, definitely made me think back to Rockfield farm. All along the walls were old photographs of either Kelly or Jack, Misha and Jack’s cousins.

“So is Jared here yet?” asked Jack.

“Just about, last time he got a hold up at work but he and the family left last night. So they should be here in the next hour or so.” Replied Jensen.

“I hope they don’t get into another accident. God why must people drive so crazy?” a female voice stated from the stairs. Soon coming down holding a young girl that almost looked identical to her, was a woman with long auburn hair and deep brown eyes.

“Mommy it’s the Rock angel! The Rock angel is really here!” the young girl squirmed out of her mom’s grip and she raced up to me and hugged my legs.

“Ah-ah JJ! Remember what we talked about.” Jensen warned the little girl known as JJ.

“It’s okay Jensen, I’m used to this. I’ve got little fans back home that do this to me every time I see them.” I thought back to the little Deacy ducklings, little Felix and the May siblings.

“So sorry about our daughter, she’s such a big fan of yours and has been looking forward to meeting you.” The woman said.

“It’s fine. But off stage you can call me (y/n).”

“Danneel, but most people call me Dani. I’m Jensen’s wife.” The two of us shook hands with each other.

“So how did you meet Jensen?” I asked her as I picked up little JJ and held her in my arms.

“Oh well knucklehead was in the bar one night down in my hometown of Dallas, I challenged him to a game of pool and beat him fair and square.”

“Uhh no baby I let you win because I didn’t want you to feel bad.”

“Oh you just can’t accept the fact that a girl beat you at pool even when you were playing your best.” I grinned and I turned to JJ and asked her.

“So JJ, what’s your favorite song of mine?”

“Set it all free.”

“Oh don’t get her started on that. She’ll religiously listen to that song, begs us repeatedly to play it for her in the car all day.” Jensen groaned out.

“Oh you don’t get to complain, I see you jamming out and doing the air guitar solo every time she asks you to play it.” Dani ratted him out. I chuckled and that’s when I set JJ down and I said.

“You know JJ, if you’d like I could sign my record for you.” She gasped and turned to her mum and Dani said.

“Go and get your CD from the car.” And like a shot JJ was off. I looked to her and I asked.

“What’s a CD?”

“Think a miniature version of a vinyl.” Answered Jensen.

“Ahh. So guess Miami agreed to turn my records into these CD’s then.”

“Miami?” asked Dani.

“That’s her manager’s nickname.” Jack answered. Both Jensen and Dani ahhed in understandment and that’s when JJ came in with her CD. She handed it to me and I took the time to admire it. Wow it really was a miniature version of a vinyl record. I wonder if Queen’s albums are also being turned to CD’s.

“Okay let’s see here,” Jack handed me a sharpie and I thanked him as I went to sign the CD cover.

To JJ,

Always believe in yourself and rock on lovely.

Hugs and kisses. (Y/n) the Rock Angel.

And I did my signature angel wings around my stage name as well as the halo over the G.

“There you go love.” She squealed in excitement before hugging me tightly and going off to probably admire and stare at it for hours.

“You know she’s gonna end up worshipping that right?” Jack whispered to me. I playfully swatted his arm and we both grabbed our suitcases and headed up the stairs.

Once we reached Jack’s old bedroom, I took in all of the posters he had in his room.

“Oh shit I forgot about all this.”

“Wow, seems you’re more of a fangirl than I was.” I teased him. All around he had posters of bands like Led Zeppelin and AC/DC and of course Queen, to the solo artists like Bowie and Elton.

“Please don’t tell the guys about this, please (y/n).”

“Ohh I don’t know.” I teased with a cheeky grin.

“S—seriously (y/n) don’t tell them about my room.”

“Okay, okay I promise I won’t tell them.”

“I don’t believe you.” He then pulled me onto his bed and hovered over me and proceeded to tickle my sides.

“Shit no Jack dohohohon’t!”

“Not till I know for certain you won’t tell your boys about this.”

“I swear! I swear I promise they won’t hear about it just stop tickling me!” he ceased his tickle attack and grinned victoriously down at me. “You are a twat I hope you know that.”

“Yeah, a dirty twat that you love.” I hummed.

“That I do.” He leaned down and captured my lips with his. I cupped my hand to the side of his face as our kiss became a bit deeper. Just as I felt his tongue gently peek out wanting entrance, we suddenly heard a young boy’s voice say.

“Ewww! Uncle Jack’s kissing a girl!” we separated and there I saw two young boys. One was the oldest probably around 7-8 and the other one just a couple years younger than him, between 4-6.

They both had dark brown hair and chocolate brown eyes and the two of them just stood there.

“Oh bugger.” I muttered.

“Tom, Shep didn’t I tell you boys to knock before—oh wow okay uhh….So sorry bout that.” Soon an older man came walking in with the same brown hair as his son’s and he had the same colored eyes as Roger. “Welcome back Jack uhh—we’ll uhh…..get out of your hair and…..”

“It’s fine Jared. Might as well get introductions out of the way.” The two of us sat up and I adjusted my hair and that’s when the older boy pointed at me and said.

“Wait you’re the Rock Angel! Uncle Jack why didn’t you tell me you were swapping spit with the Rock Angel!?”

“Thomas!” Jared snapped. Wow this kid sure does love to speak his mind. Jack and I cleared our throats as Jack told him.

“I wasn’t swapping spit with her, it was—just a kiss.”

“Yeah French kissing. Is that really how they kiss?”

“Thomas enough. In fact where did you even hear that from?”

“Uncle Jensen.” Thomas nonchalantly stated.

“Why doesn’t that surprise me? Well there go his babysitting status. Right well why don’t you kids head back downstairs to your mom.” The boys whined but with one look from their father the two of them raced off downstairs. “Again I am so sorry about them, I’ll be sure to talk to my brother about their language and behavior, especially Thomas’.” Jared spoke as he came and stood by the bed.

“It’s fine.”

“I’m Jared by the way. Jensen’s younger brother. Jack’s—”

“Told you all about me. I’ve been getting that a lot lately. Now if I remember correctly, Jack told me you worked in the court system?” I said as the two of us shook hands with each other.

“Yes, lawyer actually.”

“Ahh so what kind of cases do you usually stick with.”

“I went to Stanford to study criminal law. I uhh—work under the Prosecution back in Austin. Work under the D.A.”

“Impressive. So have you put away any bad guys?”

“More than I can count. My first case was actually the O’Bryan case back in ‘74. The Candy man.”

“Wait I think I remember the British News talking about that, it was dreadful to hear such a thing like that could happen.”

“Yeah it—it was brutal. But thanks to my team and I we were able to put the son of a bitch away and sentence him to death. Just wish they would hurry up with the execution already.”

“That’s my cousins. One likes to brag about war stories and the other obsessed with serial killers.” Jack said to me.

“It’s not an obsession!” Jared defended.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night Jared. Anyways, why don’t we go downstairs and I can introduce you to Gen, Jared’s wife.”

“I’d love to. Maybe then we can also help with any cooking for tomorrow that your mum might have planned.” And with that the three of us headed downstairs to the living room.

Like Dani, Gen was a sweet woman. In a way she reminded me a mix between Veronica’s sweetness but also Dominque’s strength and wittiness, especially when it came to her brother in law Jensen.

I’ll admit meeting Jack’s family turned out to be less stressful than I imagined. I can’t believe I was so stressed out in meeting them, turns out some were fans like his cousin’s kids, or they didn’t believe the stereotypes for Rockstars which I was thankful for.

The next morning, it was finally Christmas Eve. I woke up to Jack gently stroking through my hair and him staring down at me lovingly.

“Good morning you.” I groaned tiredly.

“Morning.” He praised. “You ready to have a Kline Christmas?”

“Absolutely. What is the tradition of the Kline family on Christmas eve?”

“Come with me and you’ll see.” He helped me up and the two of us got dressed and headed downstairs.

We came into the kitchen and I saw the entire Kline family in the kitchen prepping for something.

“Ahh the lovebirds arouse awake.” Jensen stated.

“Good morning you two. Did you sleep okay?” asked Kelly.

“Great mom, thanks.”

“We slept wonderfully Mrs. Kline.”

“Great, now come over and help us build our gingerbread palace.” She said.

“Wait I—I thought it was just a house?” I asked.

“Yeah well since we make min gingerbread people of ourselves, a house can’t quite fit all of us so we settle for a palace.” Jack told me.

“So come on guys, help us out. Sooner we get this made, the sooner it can start settling in and we can start making gingerbread us.” Said Misha. So Jack and I walked in the kitchen and we began working on the palace.

Apparently it was Dani’s turn to design the palace this year (Jack mentioned that every year a different person makes a few designs for the potential gingerbread palaces and she picked the best one). And the design she had was beautifully done.

So Jack and I were in charge of the roofs, Gen and Jared tackled the walls, Misha and Kelly worked on the towers, and Dani and Jensen did the bridge and the kids would work on the minor decorations with the gumdrops, candy and all the other small minor stuff. Even though it’s been a long time since I made a gingerbread house back at my nana’s house, Jack helped me whenever I screwed up.

His hands would come over mine and he’d guide me in how to make the style of roof Dani had designed. Much like how I would guide his hands in how to play the piano or the bass. And whenever I did something right, I got a kiss as a reward which made all the women awe and the kids go eww.

Once the gingerbread palace was finally assembled, we then turned to make our official gingerbread men. I figured for mine, I’d give myself the red streak that I first started off with before finally getting rid of it at the beginning of this year.

I also made myself a red special guitar that Brian gave me to hold and to support my boys, I made a Q on my chest to represent Queen. Kelly then put the cookies in the oven and when they were all done, I saw that mine turned out really good.

When we got the all clear after about an hour, the kids finally came in and we helped them decorate the palace. They told us where each thing was going to go and how to arrange certain pieces of candy or gumdrops.

Finally it was time to place our gingerbread men around the palace. First Kelly and Misha placed their gingerbread men down, then Jensen and Jared, Gen and Dani, Jack, JJ, Thomas and Shep.

“(Y/n)? Aren’t you going to place your gingerbread down?” Kelly asked me.

“Yeah I just…..need to find the perfect spot.”

“Why not put it next to Jack? Lovebirds need to remain together right?” asked Jensen.

“Go on baby.” Jack assured me. I then found Jack’s gingerbread man and placed mine right next to his and we all stood and marveled at our gingerbread palace.

After the gingerbread making, we gathered around the piano singing a few Christmas carols (of course JJ and Thomas tried to get me to mostly sing solo) but I kindly declined to sing all of them solo, just a couple. Then it was time for dinner while the kids picked out between the animated Christmas movies only (tomorrow they would do the Claymation ones like Rudolph and Santa clause is coming to town).

With the turkey, ham and all other sorts of Christmas dishes was down on the table, we all gathered around the table and Kelly led us in prayer first before we finally sat down to eat. As I was digging into some of the mashed potatoes, Misha asked.

“You know (y/n), Jack’s only told us a bit about you but not the whole story about you.”

“Yeh, like your parents. What are they like? Were they okay with you spending Christmas with us instead of being home in England?” I paused eating another bite of my mashed potatoes and set my fork down gently feeling that same depressing feeling that I felt for years since I was 8 up until my first Christmas with the boys.

“Uhh mom, dad let’s not talk about—”

“No Jack. It’s okay. I can tell them.”

“Are you sure?” he asked me concerned.

“Yes.”

“What happened? Your parents didn’t approve with your dream of being a rockstar?” asked Jensen.

“You’re half right. Except it wasn’t my parents. They died when I was just 8 years old.” At that point the table went quiet.

“Oh gosh I—I’m so sorry to hear that sweetie.” Kelly said sympathetically.

“How did they die?” asked Shep.

“Shep don’t.” Gen warned her son.

“It’s okay Gen, I can answer that. It—was a car crash, during a storm. I was then put into the care of my mum’s older sister, my aunt. And her and my uncle weren’t—the nicest of people.” Goddamn it girl don’t start crying now, think of the boys. Think of your boys!

I felt Jack take my hand and squeeze it comfortingly, his thumb brushing the back of my hand.

“But—I did find a wonderful family to love me for who I am. Not just your son but my real family. My team, my manager Miami, and my lovely partners not only in the industry but in life, Queen.”

“Well, it’s nice to see that musicians care about one another even beyond work.” Said Kelly with a soft smile.

“Yeah, in more ways than one.” I muttered with a soft smile. Oh I hope the guys are still having a wonderful Christmas even without me there.

After dinner I was sitting on the couch and JJ made herself comfortable on my lap. I then saw Jack coming in wearing probably the most goofiest thing I have ever seen.

It was a headband that had a hook attached to the top of it and at the end curve of the hook, there was a bit of mistletoe attached to it.

“What is this?” I laughed.

“Tradition. Now come on, you’re stuck under the mistletoe, you know what you must do right?”

“Yeah I know what I have to do.” I then leaned down and pecked JJ’s cheek leaving Jack flabbergasted.

“That’s not what I had in mind.”

“Oh you big baby come here.” I pulled him close and gave him the kiss that he wanted. After that he sat close beside me and as Gen pulled out the animated movies she said.

“Okay we’ve got Charlie Brown Christmas, Frosty, the Grinch. What shall we watch first?”

“The Grinch!” proclaimed Thomas.

“Now I want to watch Frosty!” argued Shep.

“No we started off with that last year. Let’s do the Grinch!” JJ proclaimed.

“Hang on kids, hang on. I think—in light of the fact we’ve got a new addition to our Christmas movie watching, I think we should let (y/n) choose the movie we watch first.” Stated Misha.

“I can work with that.” Jensen said.

“Yeah let’s do that.”

“Oh no I can’t do that.” I argued. “Don’t let me ruin how you guys do this.”

“There’s no harm. We always let the family additions have first pick of movies around the holidays. If you don’t believe us you can ask Gen and Dani.” Kelly said. I turned to the women and they both nodded.

“Might as well pick one out babe. My mom’s like Freddie when it comes to persistency.” He whispered the last part in my ear which made me grin.

“Okay well—I’ve never seen Charlie Brown Christmas.”

“Wait what was that?” Jensen started off. “Did I just hear you right in saying you’ve never seen any of the Charlie Brown movies?”

“There’s more of them?”

“Oh my god how could—how could you not know Charlie Brown?” Jensen proclaimed.

“Sorry Jensen. I just—was never exposed to it. Was he always a cartoon?”

“No they came from the brilliant mind that is Charles Schulz. The Peanuts gang started off as a comic book before releasing their first movie which was this Christmas special.”

“Why are they called the Peanuts gang?”

“Because that’s what Schulz called them in the comics. Don’t worry you poor misguided child, I’ll let you read the paper tomorrow and you’ll see a real Peanut’s comic.�� I turned to Jack and he shook his head and mouthed out sorry to me.

“Okay so A Charlie Brown Christmas it is then.” Gen then took the VCR out of the box and placed it into the player and pressed the play button and soon the Kline Christmas movie tradition began to commence.

And I will say by the end of Charlie Brown, I actually came to love it. But poor Charlie Brown always getting bullied by his so called friends and getting the boot out of everything in life, it just—makes me wanna hug him.

By the time it grew dark outside, it was time for bed. So after getting dressed and changed into my pajamas once more, I saw that Jack had not yet taken the mistletoe hat off.

“Are you ever gonna take that thing off?” I asked as I walked up to him.

“Not until the day after tomorrow. Or at least I get 100 kisses from you.”

“Why must you be so cute?” I giggled.

“Well my granddad was a former WW2 veteran, and my grandma was a tiny cute bunny.” I giggled again and got into bed beside him to feel him wrap his arms around my waist.

“Goodnight Jack.”

“G’night my love. See you in the morning.” We then kissed each other again before finally falling asleep after a long Christmas eve day.

The next morning I woke up to a series of soft kisses. I groaned and turned to the side to see Jack staring down at my lovingly.

“Merry Christmas baby.”

“Merry Christmas love.” It was finally time. Christmas morning. I stretched myself out and rose up from the bed and Jack followed suit wrapping his arms around me and pulling me in for a kiss. I looked up to see him still wearing that milestone headband. “I still can’t believe you’re still wearing that ridiculous thing.”

“But it got a kiss out of you last night and this morning right?” I took it off of him and kissed his cheek.

“You know you don’t need mistletoe to get a kiss from me.” He grinned and just as he leaned in to kiss me, the door opened and soon kids came pouring in.

“Uncle Jack! Aunt (y/n) wake up it’s Christmas!” proclaimed Jared’s oldest son Thomas.

“Let’s go get up lazy bones!” cried Jensen’s oldest JJ.

“You can sleep when you’re dead get up! Santa came! Santa came!” cried out Shep, Jared’s youngest son. And then they raced out after shaking our bed and rattling us like we were maracas.

Then as quickly as they came, they raced out of Jack’s room and raced downstairs.

“Kids. Don’t you wish you could be that young again?” I chuckled.

“Yeah. Christmas was always such a magical time of year for me. Mom never forgave me for jumping up and down on the bed waking her up on Christmas morning.”

“Awww now that I would love to see.” He then pounced on me sending me backwards onto the bed with him hovering over me.

“Trust me, no you don’t.” he smirked down at me before cupping my cheek and leaned down and finished the kiss he was about to start before the kid ambush happened. I hummed softly as we soon separated and I said.

“C’mon you, let’s go see if Santa brought us anything.” I sat up and got out of bed but was suddenly pulled back and was sitting on Jack’s lap.

“Can’t I at least have one final kiss.” I raised my brow at him and slightly scowled him before submitting to his demands and pecked his cheek before taking his hand and the two of us headed downstairs.

It was there we saw all the kids already opening or playing with their new toys while we saw Misha, Kelly, and Gen already up and about. Misha was sipping his morning coffee while Gen and Kelly were making breakfast.

“Merry Christmas.” The both of us said.

“Merry Christmas.” They choired back.

“How did you two sleep?” asked Misha.

“We slept good dad thank you. So when’s breakfast gonna be ready?”

“It’ll be ready when it’s ready Jack.” His mother said.

“Here (y/n), why don’t you give us a hand, we sure could use the extra hand.” Said Gen. I nodded and headed over and helped them out by setting up the table and doing whatever preparations Kelly or Gen needed help with.

Once Jensen, Danneel and Jared finally woke up breakfast was just about ready so we called everyone into the kitchen to have Christmas breakfast. We all gathered around in a circle and Misha led us in grace, then after praying we all got our breakfast and proceeded to eat.

After breakfast it was the grownups time to open up their presents. I got Jack some new bass strings and managed to make a scrapbook of some of out moments together throughout this year. While he got me a new necklace with a heart shape locket, and new records.

I also got some minor gifts for the rest of Jack’s family like I got Kelly a new bracelet, Misha got some new literature books that I thought he’d be interested to put into his library, Jensen got some car fuel for his baby as well as Led Zeppelin records, Gen got the sweater she saw at the shop when we all had a girl’s shopping day to bond, Gen got a couple of bracelets and I also got Jared some records like Elton John and David Bowie as well as a new tailored suit that he could wear once he got back to work.

After opening some more presents and getting dressed Jack and I went outside along with Jared, Jensen and their wives. Jack and I hopped up along the porch railing while Jared and Gen were on the porch swing and Jensen and Dani took the two rocking chairs. It was a beautiful day with the sun shining, not quite like the white Christmases I’ve had in the past but at least it wasn’t raining.

“Beautiful day isn’t it?” asked Gen.

“Yeah. Much better than it was last year.” Agreed Dani.

“I’ll drink to that.” Jensen said as he sipped his beer.

“It’s absolutely fabulous my darlings!” At that voice I quickly turned around but the next thing I knew I cried out as I fell right into the bushes right beside the front porch.

I could hear the sound of kids laughing and a proclamation from a familiar Leicester accent.

“Now you done it Fred.”

“Just get me the bloody hell out of here!” Jack came over as well as another figure and when I saw the familiar curly hair of Brian May help my boyfriend in getting me out of the bush he apologized on Fred’s behalf.

“Sorry (y/n).” he said as he took some leaves and twigs out of my hair.

“Sure you are. But—what are you doing here?” I turned around and I saw it was the entire Queen family. Not just the guys but the wives as well as the kids. “In fact what are you all doing here?”

“What’s it look like? We came to spend Christmas with you.” Said Freddie.

“And since Christmas is about spending time with family, we figured that it wouldn’t be a bad idea to meet Jack’s family as well.” Brian said as he finished picking out the final leaf that was stuck in my hair and stroked it down.

“And the kids really missed their auntie and wanted to thank you for their gifts in person.” Said Veronica as she held little Laura in her arms. It was then the kids all came running up to me and hugged me before all saying.

“Thank you auntie (y/n).”

“I really loved the race cars you got me.” Said Michael.

“And the coloring books you got me, I even got to draw you a picture on the plane.” Said Felix.

“I wanted to wear my princess dress you got me but mummy and daddy wouldn’t let me but I’ll wear it when you come home okay?” said Laura.

“I would love to see you in it Laura. I saw it and I thought only one little girl needed to have it.” I said as I picked her up and held her in my arms.

“So this is your family (y/n)?” I heard Dani’s voice say. We all turned around and I said.

“Oh right sorry. Jensen, Jared, Danneel and Genevieve you all probably know the members of Queen; Freddie, John, Roger and Brian. And these lovely ladies are the wives of Queen. Veronica is Deacy’s lovely wife and their kids are Michael, Robert, baby Joshua, and Laura. Dominque is Roger’s lovely raven haired beauty and their son over there is Felix. And Chrissie is Brian’s wife along with their kids Jimmy and Louisa.”

“Wow so you really weren’t kidding about Queen being your family.” His wife elbowed him in the side making him groan.

“What my husband’s trying to say is that—we didn’t expect you guys to actually come.”

“Yeah, yeah we get it. Didn’t think that this lovely girl here could actually be family to one of the biggest rock bands in the world. Well it’s true. The day we met (n/n) here, she just clicked with us as an intern. And she’s only grown into a better artist and a more confident person.” Roger said as he came up and gently ruffled my hair.

“Well why don’t we all head inside? I’m sure Kelly and Misha would like to meet you both since Jack’s told them about you all.” Gen said as she stood up from the swing.

“So you’ve also told your parents about us Jack dear?” asked Freddie.

“In a way.” Jack admitted.

“All good things I hope.” Piped in Brian.

“I promise nothing bad.” Jack assured him.

“Alright well let’s get inside, I need to change this little one’s diaper and then get him down for a nap.” Veronica said as she gestured to Joshua in his little baby carrier that Deacy was holding. We all nodded and soon began filing in the house.

“Mom! Dad!”

“In the living room Jack!” Misha proclaimed. We all piled in and as soon as my family made their appearance, the eyes on both Kelly’s and Misha’s face were eyes that I have seen over a thousand times before.

They were star struck.

“Jack…..” his mom started.

“Yeah mom they uhh—they decided to come spend Christmas with us.”

“We know we should’ve given either Jack or (y/n) a head’s notice but some of us thought a surprise would be better.” Brian spoke as he looked towards Freddie and Roger who both merely looked away as if they didn’t hear anything Brian just said. “We hope we didn’t cause any inconvenience.”

“No. No not at all. In fact we’ve…..we’ve been dying to meet (y/n)’s family. Now it seems we get our wish.” Kelly said.

“So how long have you all known each other?” asked Misha.

“September marked the three year anniversary since I met the guys at my internship.” I said.

“Wow three years, god feels like it’s been longer than that.” Roger said as he wrapped an arm around me and kissed the top of my head. I smiled and leaned my head against his chest and wrapped my arm around him.

“I know it’s crazy. But I wouldn’t have it any other way. These guys—are my family.”

As the day went on, we were now gathered in the basement for more space and also to get ready for Christmas dinner. I was downstairs with the guys and I saw Jensen, Jared, Roger, and Deacy playing a game of pool, while Brian and Misha were sitting together chatting away as a football game was rolling.

“Now Jack said you were an astronomer of sorts?”

“In a way yes. I went for a physics degree specifically in the study of astrophysics at Imperial college.”

“Wow that’s amazing. You know my father studied astrophysics too. He was once even employed over at NASA before he retired.”

“Really? What did he do?”

“He was the Director of field studies.”

“Wait your father was Robert Collins. The Robert Collins.”

“Yeah. Thought he’d see me working alongside him one day but I just wasn’t as smart as he was. So I ended up with the typical 9-5 office job. I swear I never seen my father more disappointed in me than that day.”

“I know exactly how you felt Misha. When I put my studies aside to do this gig, my parents were very radical about it. My dad especially thought I was throwing my life away. That was until Madison Square Garden back in ’77 when they finally understood.”

“Yeah. I think it wasn’t until a few years ago I got my dad to finally approve of my work. Now being the CEO of the company now, helping Kelly raise Jack, he’s starting to slowly come around.” I smiled at the two men finding a commonality between the two of them.

“And Misha. Brian is currently still in the works of his research paper.” I said as I came up to them and wrapped my arms around Brian.

“Really? What’s your paper on Brian?”

“Interplanetary stardust. Specifically in how it affects Zodiacal light.”

“That’s our clever space man. Which is why he always cheats at scrabble.” I said before poking at him as I said my end statement.

He chuckled and placed his hand on the back of my head and planted a wet kiss to my cheek. Making me exclaim and wipe the leftover spit away.

“Especially compared to this one who was going to be a dentist.” Teased Deacy.

“What? Are you serious?” laughed Jensen.

“I was never a dentist.” Roger said as he looked up from the pool table just before he could make his shot.

“He’s a dentist.” Deacy teased again.

“He was a dentist.” Brian agreed.

“Either way I got bored of it and switched my major to Biology.”

“And what of the other two Queen members?” Misha asked.

“Well Fred got a degree in graphic design.” I explained remembering back to when Fred told me of him being the genius behind the Queen logo.

“And I got mine in electrical engineering.” Added Deacy.

“Wow so all of you guys managed to finish your degrees and graduate college. I always thought all rockstars just dropped out of school to pursue Rock and roll.”

“Well there are some that do. A few friends of mine from Def Leppard didn’t finish school for one reason or another.” Brian said.

“We just felt that since we were almost done with our years, well except for that one.” Roger pointed to Deacy. “Might as well finish off while we can and then focus our energies on the band.”

��At first I just did it as a side thing. I didn’t really believe this would get serious, at least until our first album went on the charts.” Said Deacy.

“Wow such confidence in your new band there Johnny D.” Jensen said as he readied up for his strike at the white ball. He took the shot and that’s when Jared spoke up.

“So question, if the band never formed at all would you guys have gone for anything regarding to your majors?” the room went silent for a bit then Brian spoke up.

“We always get the ‘what ifs’ cause at first I don’t think any of us except for Fred really believed we’d last for as long as we did. I mean already over ten years since we been together and we’re just reaching the stratosphere in music history.”

“I’d like to think I would’ve still tried to do something involved with drumming. Maybe form my own band or go solo like I did. Drumming has just always been a part of my life that I don’t think I could work a usual day to day job unless I really needed to.” Said Roger.

“There were some potentials that I did get when I graduated the highest in Electrical engineering. I’ve always just found it fascinating in taking things apart of reassembling them back together, just to see how they tick. Plus I’d be home a lot more with Veronica and the kids, but then I wouldn’t have met that clever girl there. Even with us living 20 minutes apart from each other.” I grinned at Deacy.

“So to answer their question for you Misha, they wouldn’t have it any other way.” I said as I leaned against Brian and he placed his head next to mine.

“Dinner’s ready!” we heard Veronica cry from upstairs.

“Alrighty gents, let’s go eat.” I said as I raced on up the stairs and as I cross the living room I saw not only the mini-queens but Jack’s niece and nephews all playing together.

Oh it warmed my heart to see the whole bunch of these kids immediately click together. I saw Thomas, Michael, Robert, Jimmy and Shep all playing with Thomas’ new trainset while Louisa, Laura and JJ were playing with some cabbage patch kids.

“Come on lovies, it’s time to eat.” At that split second, the kids all shot up and raced towards the kitchen.

“Ah, ah, ah, ah no running kids!” I warned them. We all gathered in the kitchen and gathered around the kitchen.

“Jack dear, would you like to lead in Grace this year?” asked his mum. Jack took my hand and he said with a smile.

“Sure mom.” We all gathered around and bowed our heads as Jack led us in prayer. “Heavenly father we thank you for this wonderful Christmas year. We like to give thanks to (y/n)’s family who had a safe travel to come and see her, may you always watch over them as well as all of us. And continue to watch us as we go on into the new year. Bless us with your love and in your son’s name we pray. Amen.”

“Amen.” We all choired out before finally going around the entire kitchen to grab all the food that was cooked thanks to the wives of each family. Once I had grabbed some mashed potatoes with gravy, turkey, ham, some rolls and mac and cheese I headed over to the living room to see Jack already at his seat on the couch.

He smiled and scooted over and I gladly sat down beside him.

“Hey baby.”

“Hello love.” I set my plate down in my lap and took a bite of my roll first. “God I hadn’t had bread in so long. It’s a shame that once I start touring again my team’s gonna force me back into shape to lose the holiday calories.”

“Well if you want my opinion, I think you look beautiful.” I awed at him but just before we could kiss each other, a throat cleared and there stood Roger with an interrogating brow raised. I glared at him and that’s when Dominque came in and nudged Roger in the ribs giving him a look of her own.

“Okay movie tradition part 2. (Y/n) shall you choose another movie for us to start with for tonight?” Kelly said.

“I wouldn’t mind.”

“Okay we’ve got Rudolph, Santa Clause is coming to town, the Little drummer boy, Year without a Santa Clause.”

“I’ve always loved watching Rudolph as a child. It—was actually my mum’s favorite.” I looked down sadly and that’s when I felt Jack rub my knee comfortingly. I nodded telling him that I was fine and that’s when Kelly put in the Rudolph the Red nosed reindeer VHS tape into the VCR.

The kids all gathered in front of the TV and of course we all told them to not get too close to it. As the movie went on and Hermie made his appearance Jensen just had to say.

“Hey look it’s Roger.” Rog turned to Jensen and said.

“What makes you say that?”

‘Well sir someday I’d like to be a—a dentist.’ We heard Hermie speak his line. At that point Roger rolled his eyes upward while Jensen just chuckled mockingly and sipped his beer. I smiled and bite my lower lip to contain my laughter but I couldn’t help the quiet snort snicker that came out of me. As the movie continued to go on, it was the scene where Rudolph meets Clarisse, which was probably my most favorite scene all because of Rudolph’s famed line.

“Not gonna lie, that’s what I felt like doing the second you told me you loved me.” Jack whispered in my ear. I looked up at him and whispered back.

“Well I’m not gonna lie either, because I felt like doing the exact same thing when we were at the festival.” He smiled and pecked my cheek which made my heart race and I felt myself blushing.

After a few more of the traditional Claymation Christmas movies, the kids were starting to get sleepy.

“Well I guess it’s time for us to get these kids to bed. Do you all know of a good hotel nearby?” asked Chrissie.

“Oh don’t be silly Chrissie. You all can stay at our homes.” Said Danneel.

“Oh no Danneel we couldn’t impose.” Said Brian.

“Really we all have plenty of room. Plus all the hotels nearby are practically filled during the Christmas season.” Said Jared.

“Luckily Jared and I built vacation houses near here so you all can decide who you want to bunk with.” Said Jensen.

“And since Jack and (y/n) are sharing a room together we’ve got two spare rooms to share.”

“Dominque and I can bunk here, if that’s alright with you Kelly.” Said Roger. I glared at him with a look telling him to ‘behave’ but he just looked at me unphased.

“No Roger dear, I can stay here. You, Dominque and Felix will stay with your American twin.”

“Yeah Rog. Why not stay with me?” Jensen said as he pulled Roger in a sideways hug. Freddie turned to me and I mouthed ‘thank you’ and he simply winked at me.

“The Deacons and the Mays can stay with us, and the kids can punk together.” Said Gen.

“Daddy can Louisa and Laura spend the night with us at our house?” asked JJ.

“I think that would be a good idea. Girls can have their own little sleepover and the boys can stay with us.” Said Danneel.

“Would you and Louisa like that Laura?” asked Deacy.

“Yeah sleepovers are fun. Plus JJ said she’d show us her Barbie dreamhouse.”

“Okay you and Louisa can spend the night with JJ. But be on your best behavior.” Said Veronica.

“You too Louisa.” Brian said to his daughter.

“I will daddy, I promise.” Said Louisa.

“Alright it’s official. Come on girls gather up your stuff and put it in the trunk. Let’s go saddle up.” Jensen told the girls and soon Laura, JJ and Louisa grabbed their toys and headed out to the car. Soon it was a hustle and bustle of getting things organized and people getting into the chosen cars so that they could go to the appropriate house for the night.

I hugged and kissed my whole family goodnight and told them I’d see them in the morning. Of course Roger stayed back and warned me.

“No funny business you two. I swear it I have Fred watching you two like a hawk.”

“Oi Taylor! Stop harassing the lovebirds and get your British ass in here before I leave you!” Jensen cried out.

“Language Jensen!” I heard Danneel hiss.

“Sorry honey. Girls never say those words, they’re reserved for grownups only.” Roger looked back at me and I said.

“Go on Rog. I promise nothing’s going to happen.”

“Yeah Roger dear. Besides even if it did, they probably might’ve already done it by now since they no longer had the hovering lion to interrupt them this time.” Said Fred as he wrapped an arm around my shoulder.

“Not helping Fred.” I hissed lowly.

“Now go on Rog, have fun with your American twin. You both can find sexy parts of your cars together.” I snickered and at that point Roger looked up with a ‘just kill me’ look. The horn beeped and Roger turned around shouting out.

“Keep your cowboy trousers on I’m coming!” I turned to Fred and said.

“You’re really not gonna watch over us all night are you?”

“Oh don’t be so dramatic, darling. I wouldn’t dream of doing something like that. I trust Jack and he’s not a nasty brute who would cup a feel of you in your sleep.” Wow Fred always got to make things dirtier than they are. But at least he wasn’t gonna be 24/7 guard like Roger was claiming earlier.

Shortly after everyone left and we all got ready for bed, Freddie and I kissed each other goodnight and I walked right back into Jack’s room and shut the door.

“Again I am so sorry they just showed up. I literally had no idea they’d—”

“Hey. Like I said don’t worry about it. I mean yeah it sure was a surprise but I know my mom and dad didn’t mind. Besides it was better they met them now instead of in the future.” Jack assured me.

“I guess.”

“Come on now,” he stood up and took my hand and guided me back to his bed and we both sat down. “They love you (y/n). And I’m sure they couldn’t stand not spending one Christmas without you, plus it seems that Jensen and Roger were getting along quite well.”

“Fred was right about one thing. They are definitely twins when it comes to Rock and roll and cars.”

“Yeah Jensen always claimed that everything after 1979 is shit.” I smiled and said.

“Yeah Rog always speaks the truth when it comes to other artists. He will like them or hate them. If I remember correctly he didn’t like my song ‘Who I am’ because of the drum loops.”

“Wow so he can even criticize his favorite little angel?” Jack asked in mock-shock.

“Yes he does. But I’m a big girl I can take criticism from my favorite band.”

“I know you can. Because you,” as he emphasized the word you, he pulled me into his arms and even adjusted me so that I now ended up in his lap. “Are no lamb. You are a true lioness in the industry of wolves.”

“Yep, except for Queen who are my pride.” Jack and I grinned at each other before giving each other a peck before cuddling into bed. “Merry Christmas Jack.”

“Merry Christmas baby, love you.”

“Love you too.” And with that the two of us fell asleep holding each other.

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youknowmymethods · 5 years

Text

Content Creator Interview #6

Hello again and welcome to our sixth interview. This time, it’s the turn of @ashockinglackofsatin to put @sunken-standard ‘s writing under the microscope. Together they chat about the early days of the Sherlock fandom, how music can influence writing, and why the I Love You scene helped end sunken’s own great hiatus.

For those who don’t know me: I am @ashockinglackofsatin on tumbr, satin_doll on AO3. My test subject...erm, sorry - interviewee - is the notorious sunken_standard, probably most famous for her two epic, novel-length stories Longer Than The Road That Stretches Out Ahead and Fumbling Toward Ecstasy, which can be found on AO3 (along with her other wonderful stories) and should be required reading for anyone aspiring to write fanfiction.

You should know, first off, that I’m crap at doing interviews, which I discovered years ago when I had to interview musicians and various personalities as a job. I didn’t last long at that job.

So here is Kat’s Idiotic Interview with @sunken-standard.

satin_doll: You’re very good at writing Sherlock’s emotional cluelessness without making him seem like an idiot or an ass. Can you talk a little about the way you see Sherlock’s character that allows you to do this?

sunken_standard: Thank you :D So the answer to this is going to carry through to some of the other questions, but basically, I write Sherlock as a version of myself. I feel a kinship with the character, a highly intelligent person surrounded by idiots and so, so frustrated by it, but even more frustrated by his own brain and the inability to control it. Probably autistic, just like I'm probably autistic (and I don't want to get into it but I'm not trying to co-opt an identity here or anything; I've tried to get a diagnosis and found out that's just not possible with my current healthcare options).

Anyway, one of my probably-autistic things is being hyper-aware of other people's emotions, but also having trouble identifying them and the appropriate responses. At times I do lack empathy, like I honestly can't understand why someone is feeling what they're feeling because I wouldn't feel that way in the same situation and it doesn't make sense. Sometimes I can empathize so much that it's overwhelming and I just kind of short-circuit, especially when it comes to grief or loss, and I end up being insensitive or just not saying or doing what a normal person would.

So basically, I approach his responses to other people's emotions the way I would my own, only stripped of female socialization and self-awareness.

satin_doll: How much do you draw on your own life and experiences in your fics?

sunken_standard: For scenarios and specific scenes, not a lot. For emotional and sensory experiences, more. I haven't done very much or lived to my full potential, so it's not a very deep well on either account. Every now and then anecdotes or details creep in (like Mars Cheese Castle and the “call me Daddy” during sex thing [which, for the record, was skeevy as fuck irl]), but most of it just comes from nowhere or stuff I saw on TV.

satin_doll: Both “Longer than the Road…” and “Fumbling Toward Ecstasy” are novel length stories. “Road”, however, is written without breaks/chapters. Did you ever consider breaking it up into parts or chapters? How hard was it to keep it all in one piece and how long did it take you to finish it?

sunken_standard: When I write, I usually just start and then go 'til it's done or I burn out. I got through three or four chapters' worth of FTE (and was on the verge of giving up until maybe_amanda convinced me not to). Since the story wasn't nearly finished and I wanted to start putting it out into the world (mostly because I have no patience, but also because I knew there was a window to stay relevant and a large number of people were looking for a longer, meatier [cough] post-TFP fic), I decided to start posting what I had and just write as I went because I was, in hindsight, probably hypomanic and I was keeping a good pace at that point.

I dunno, I think there was a lot more of that long-format thing happening in fic back then, where you'd have a 40k piece that only had breaks because of the word limit per post on LJ.

As far as how long it took, I don't remember. I know I started it February of that year and had probably a good 75% of it finished (all written at a tear, over the course of probably ten days or so, because when I was still smoking actual cigarettes I could and did do 3-5k words/ day), but then I dropped it and went on to try other ideas. I went back to it when those other stories fizzled, and I finished it in maybe another 2-3 weeks with editing and beta reading. I had some real problems with the ending and it was never good enough for me, but I just got to a point where I was sick of it and it was good enough.

So basically, it's harder for me to work in chapters than it is one long piece. There's more discipline to a chaptered work; each chapter is its own story, in a way, and each one needs to end on a certain kind of beat. I still don't feel like I have a knack for it, and I think if I did anything long like that again I'd have to write most of it without breaks and then shoehorn them in where I could later on.

satin_doll: You took a long hiatus from Sherlock fic after S2, and came back for S4. What was it about S4 that sparked your writing again?

sunken_standard: I don't really know. I mean, the ILY was a big thing, but I think S4 gave me more to work with for the kind of things I write (all the angst and inner monologue) than S3 or TAB. I had mixed feelings about S3. I didn't like Mary much for a long time because she was one of Moffat's women (and anyone who's seen my tumblr knows how I feel about that), but I finally unclenched after a while because I like Amanda Abbington a lot and Mary was preferable to Sarah Sawyer (who I'm more ambiguous about now, but really didn't like for a long time because there was something about her that I read as smarmy, though now I see her reactions as more subtly uncomfortable and kind of like “what's going on/ this is weird/ John's a nice guy but is everything around him always this weird?”). Anyway.

I did try writing a bit after S3, but I never finished any of it; I didn't really feel like there was a place in the fandom or much of a community at that time, either—at least, not like what I had been used to from the early days. The tribe that existed wasn't my tribe (any of them). I think I need a certain degree of shared enthusiasm to motivate me to keep writing. Like, I have a lot of ideas for fic in other fandoms, but they're dead or never existed in the first place. And I know I'll have some audience for the small fandoms and people will read and kudos and everything, but there's no one around to geek out with or bounce ideas off of, so it just isn't as appealing. If I'm going to be miserable and alone while writing something, it's going to be something I can at least make money off of, y'know?

satin_doll: Do you edit as you go or finish the story first and go back over it to edit?

sunken_standard: Edit as I go. When I get stuck, I break that cardinal rule of writing and go back over what I've written and nit-pick it to death. It's a bad habit, but at the same time, small changes have led to big developments in the course of the story later on. I mean, I think sometimes this is why I have so many unfinished things, but I've tried just writing through and that doesn't work for me either. Once I get to the end of something, I've already made most of big cuts and done a lot of the reworking, so the beta polishing isn't as labor-intensive. I'm one of those people that when I feel like something's finished, I don't want to have to go back to it again. And if I didn't edit as I went, it would kind of feel like redoing the whole story and that's extremely unappealing to me. It's kind of like baking—it's always better if you clean as you go, rather than waiting until the cake's out of the oven to do the dishes and put stuff away (which I do when I'm low on spoons, but it ends up seeming like double the work).

satin_doll: Do you proof it yourself or rely on someone else to proofread it for you? I’m talking technical details here, proofing as opposed to simple beta reading.

sunken_standard: Mostly proof myself, since I edit as I go (and proofing is inevitably part of that when the mistakes just jump out). My beta catches everything else (and she's amazing; I misuse words and just legit don't know spelling differences for a lot of things [stationary vs stationery] and I'm not great with grammar and prepositions because I'm an ignorant fucker with no education).

satin_doll: When did you first start writing? When did you first discover that you COULD write?

sunken_standard: I remember writing stories as a kid, but I burned them all when I was a teenager so I don't even know what most were about or anything. I do remember that I wrote one when I was in like 4th or 5th grade that was ST:TNG self-insert fanfic and I think the plot was me working with Data to bring Lal back. I know it was Data, because I had a huge crush on him as a kid. I really thought I could grow up to write ST:TNG novels at that point.

And as for CAN write—jury's still out on that one. Ask my 12th grade English teacher, who laughed in my face when I told him I was thinking of pursuing English so I could be a writer. But before that, I had some other teachers that used to give me A+s on my creative writing assignments (despite all the spelling and grammatical errors). In 11th grade, I had a really great teacher, Mr. Lansing, who turned me on to the good parts of American lit and really encouraged me to read (and write) what I liked, not just what other people told me I had to. He encouraged me when I applied for the Governer's school, too. (The Governer's School is this program in PA for kids who excel; it's like a summer camp for the elite nerds. They have a bunch of them, each for different areas—math, science, medicine, I think one that's like history/ government/ civics, and then one for the arts. For creative writing, they take a total of 20 kids—10 for poetry and 10 for prose. I tried for the poetry category and made the first round of cuts and went for a regional interview (with about 50 other kids, so like maybe 150 kids state-wide); long story short I didn't make it. I was the first alternate, meaning if somebody couldn't attend, I would get their spot. #11 out of 10. I was so crushed, because it basically reinforced what I'd been told by other people—I was a big fish in pond too small to even piss in and there were always going to be people better than me. I was already mostly checked-out when it came to academia and aspirations; after that there was just really no point to keep going.)

Anyway though, I did write bits and pieces here and there even after school, thinking one day I'd get my shit together and write my own Confederacy of Dunces and then off myself (it's still a viable plan). Then, in 2008 I was recently unemployed and everything in life was shitty, so I wrote a big happy-ending fic for The Doctor and Rose. It was kind of the right bit of media at the right time that inspired me. More about that later though.

satin_doll: What/who do you think has had the biggest influence on the development of your style?

sunken_standard: I've been asked this before, and I always feel like I'm a little pretentious and I trot out the same names (both fanfic authors and book authors), but I had a realization a while ago that I'm always missing one person—Vonnegut. I think he's got this kind of no-bullshit way of saying things that still manages to be poetic and delicate and that's what I most aspire to.

I think a lot of my style is influenced by film, too. Some influences are probably Todd Solondz, Richard Linklater, Kevin Smith, and John Waters, as far as the way I approach the reality within the story. I think I tend to focus on a lot of the same things—the weird, the mundane, the mildly uncomfortable—but I don't go nearly as far in any direction. I think even the way I string scenes together and the shifting of focus within my scenes between action, dialogue, and inner monologue are influenced by cinematography. I always say I'm just transcribing the movie in my head, so I mean, there's bound to be some kind of influence.

satin_doll: You’re noted for the banter between your characters, humorous and otherwise. Do you have rules/profiles for characters that establish their voices for you? Are there things, for example, that you think Sherlock or Molly simply would never say/do or would always say/do? How structured are these characters in your head when you start writing?

sunken_standard: It varies slightly from story to story/ universe to universe, but I think I have patterns for the banter (and I have a different set for Sherlock and John, and Sherlock and Mycroft, but there are common threads throughout). As for comedy, it's not quite straight man/ funny man, but I tend to default to Sherlock being more literal and deadpan and Molly being more expressive and emotive. I use the scraps of the dynamic the show's given us and just build on that. It's kind of formulaic, actually: Sherlock does a not-good thing (degree of severity varies), Molly reacts with a blend of annoyance and amusement while going along for the ride.

I have a kind of mental file for things I think would be out of character for each of them, but sometimes I like to try to find a way to get to one of those things and slip it into a fic organically. One of the reason I liked doing the one-line prompt fics so much was that so many of them could easily have been intros to the kind of fluff that makes me gag; I'm no fool, though, and I love me some low-hanging fruit, so I just adjust it to my tastes. I'm a never-say-never kinda gal. Mostly.

That being said, there are a lot of things that I think would take a lot of doing to make them be in-character. I don't think they'd ever use pet names for each other unless it was through gritted teeth or with at least a bit of irony (like how I used “yes, dear,” in FTE, and I think in some of the universes in Ficlet Cemetery). I can't see Sherlock ever doing housework unless it was for a case (though dishes and sanitizing surfaces are an exception, because both those chores are tangent to the kind of cleaning up after oneself one does in a lab setting, and imo that fits with his logic). I can't see him being very affectionate in public, except under rare circumstances when he might do an arm around the shoulders or a guiding palm to the small of the back.

And as for structure, I think they all start with the same scaffolding, but in every new universe they get draped slightly differently according to variations in backstory or tone or genre or whatever. Or like, they're already sculpted, but the lighting changes. I think that as I write, they take on different nuances and acquire more depth, though. Like it wasn't really until a few chapters in to FTE that I got a fuller picture of the Molly I was writing, even though I had the rough idea of her backstory from pretty much the beginning. Same with Longer Than the Road, too. As I come up with details of someone's past, I experience those scenarios and it makes me rethink and fine-tune everything about them in what I've already written, and adds more texture as I keep going.

satin_doll: You’ve listed a playlist for “Longer than the Road…” Do you write to music? How much does music inspire your writing? Does every story have a playlist?

sunken_standard: It's funny, but I don't listen to music nearly as much as I did even 5 years ago. Not sure why, honestly, maybe something to do with my mental health and overstimulation? So I don't write to music much anymore. Not every story has a playlist or songs attached (I don't think any of the FC stuff does, at least not in any significant way), but it seems like my best work is inspired by music in some way.

FTE didn't really have a soundtrack, but I listened to a lot of the music I had in common with the version of Molly that I was writing—very 90s alternative and pop rock. Lots of Pulp (which I picked as Molly's favorite band because I think they're Loo's favorite, or one of her favorites). For the proposal, I had “Dreams” by The Cranberries on a loop as I wrote. There's just something musically about that song that's full of anticipation and the wavy kind of guitar (I don't know the music terms and it's been so many years since I was into anything instrument-related that I'm not even sure how the sound is made, like a whammy bar or wiggling their fingers on the frets or whatever but anyway) just has this kind of wavering emotion that makes it feel like it's on the cusp of something. And also it's the big romance song from every coming-of-age thing ever, and so just hearing it is like an auditory shorthand for breathless, adventurous romance, at least for women of a certain age (namely, my age, and I'm only a year younger than Loo/ Molly). There was another scene—I can't remember what it was without rereading the fic—that I spent like three days listening to nothing but “The Way” by Fastball. It might have been the thing with the drink testing and then the sex on the sofa and the cake baking. (As an aside, I just started listening to the song and immediately got hit with a sense memory of night-wet spring air blowing in my window, because that's what the weather was when I was writing to this and it gives me a weird yearning pull in the back of my throat, like nostalgia almost but something else in it. Like, did you ever hear a pop song that taps into some deeper part of the human experience, both musically and lyrically, and you just feel like there's some universal truth in it that's too much to totally grasp? That's how I feel about both of those songs. Anyway.)

Another story that had a few songs attached was Stainless, Captive Bead. Radiohead's “Creep” was what they were listening to in the tattoo parlor, and a lot of the sex bits were written while listening to Nine Inch Nails' “Closer” (look, if it's set in the 90s and there's fucking in it, I'm going to find a way to relate it to “Closer,” because that song is just dark sex and angst set to synthesizers and a high hat).

Also, sometimes when I write I listen to ambient noise stuff, cityscapes or rain or whatever fits the tone of the piece and my mood. I can't listen to anything for too long, though, because I get listener fatigue and I burn out faster.

satin_doll: Have you ever considered self-publishing your stories as a book or series of books?

sunken_standard: I've tried to file off the serial numbers on the Girlfriend series, but it was harder than I thought it would be so I back-burnered it. I still like to think that one day I will, it's a life goal, but if I put too much pressure on myself I only make it worse and nothing gets done.

satin_doll: You seem to have a detailed backstory for every character in your stories, from Janine to Molly’s mother. Do you work these out beforehand or do they just happen in your head as you write?

sunken_standard: Both? I kind of touched on it earlier, but I usually have an idea of the backstory, the bones at least, and then as I write it gets richer. I have multiple headcanons for every character, so I just start off with one of those. Like I have five different families for Molly, all things I was coming up with when I was writing other stories. Hell, I've got like five different Uncle Rudys (most of them highly unpleasant and most likely triggering).

I have a habit of just sitting and thinking about a character, like “what would make them this way?” armchair psychoanalysis stuff. And if I can establish a plausible-sounding backstory, I have a better foundation for introducing non-canonical traits or details. I think that's the downfall of a lot of fic authors—they just write a canon character as they would an OC and expect us to play along without demonstrating any internal logic. Maybe I'm just picky; there's certainly an element of that, too.

satin_doll: How detailed is the story in your mind before you start writing it? Do you work from plans and outlines with every story?

sunken_standard: It all depends on the story. Sometimes I have a whole series of detailed scenes just waiting in my head to be written out. Sometimes I only have one thing and I just keep going. I say I use an outline, but it's not a proper outline. More like a collection of notes and bullet points of what I want to happen and what kind of beats I want to hit. I usually keep it at the bottom of my working document so I don't have to switch to another doc to look at it if I need to.

satin_doll: Where does a story begin with you? What constitutes the “urge” to write? You once mentioned (in a comment reply I think) that you know the ending of the story first and then write the rest of the story to get there. What do you do when a story goes off track? How do you get it back to the way you planned it, or do you even try to do that?

sunken_standard: (I don't know why my document formatting went tits-up here, so I'll answer 1 & 2 both here)

So stories are a visceral kind of thing. I always have ideas. Seriously, give me a theme or a title or something and I can spit out a summary and details in as long as it takes to type it out. But actually crafting prose (can I sound more pompous?) is best likened to the urge to poop. Classy, right? I said it was visceral. Really though, it's that same kind of state of heightened awareness/ arousal (in the strictest medical sense of the word, not sexual arousal), something is happening and if it doesn't things are going to get weird and I'm going to be very uncomfortable for a very long time. Also, like pooping, if it's not ready, no amount of grunting or straining is going to make it happen, and it might even make it worse in the long run. As you can tell, I've been very, very constipated for the last year.

Anyway.

Stories going off track... a lot of the time I just let it happen because it's taking me to a better place than where I thought it was going to end up.

satin_doll: Quote from you: “I spend way too much time thinking about who Molly is as a person. Writing porn and comedy both have their appeal, but I really like sitting down and thinking about what makes any given character tick and how they might feel about what's happening around them. 30s and single has so much baggage to it, even if all the women's magazine articles and whatever-wave-we're-up-to-now feminist thought pieces say it's a myth or a stereotype or whatever. It's a truth we don't want to be true because it's not fair. I mean, it's not the thing that solely defines any woman, but it's there, just like cellulite and brand new and worrying moles and our favorite brand of whatever suddenly being discontinued (or significantly changed) because some marketing person decided it was too 'old.' But anyway, such is life. And I like putting that in fic.”

Do you write character studies to use as a reference for your stories, or just wing it for each individual piece?

sunken_standard: The character study is dead, isn't it? Like, as standalone fic. Never see them anymore, which is a real pity. I used to write them (or, well, start them, heh) before I took a break from writing/ fandom, mostly to try to get some of my headcanons down in some kind of usable way. But I haven't really written a character study (in prose, at least) since 2012 or so.

So when I write, I keep two documents open—the working copy that's a first-through-final draft and a “notes/ cut bits/ things to work in somehow” document. In the notes document I usually keep any character details (backstory or how I want them to react to something later, whatever). There are themes I go back to over and over, like a cluster of traits I reuse in some fashion because I think they fit the character (Mycroft and disordered eating, Molly as a middle child in some fashion, John as the child of alcoholics, etc.), so a lot of that just lives in my head. Any bits of characterization specific to a story go in the notes doc for that story, while any generic thoughts or something that I think I might want to use later gets stuck in another document full of random ideas, snippets of dialogue, jokes, AUs I'll never write, that kind of thing. I've got a few of those docs from different writing periods. They're mostly just a way to externalize a thought so I don't lose it; I hardly ever go back to them for anything.

satin_doll: What was your first involvement with fanfiction? Where did it all start?

sunken_standard: I started to answer this in another question; basically, fanfic's been in my wheelhouse in one way or another since I was a kid (Star Trek novels are fanfic, period). I discovered fanfiction back in the days of eXcite searches and webrings while looking for translations of Inu Yasha manga scans; I stumbled upon an English-language fancomic/ doujinshi called Hero in the 21st Century and it was so well-written, funny and poignant and well-researched I was just drawn in. I still think about it and the author's other works to this day. I did pick at the idea of writing myself, sometimes even put down scenes or outlines and did hours of research, but never did the thing.

And then, in 2008, the stars aligned and I started a thing. Journey's End spawned a ton of Doctor Who fic, and that was good, because I could just kind of slip mine in there and I probably wouldn't get a lot of criticism or attention. So I wrote like two chapters without any idea of how it was going to end, and I submitted it to Teaspoon and an Open Mind (which was the Doctor Who fic archive at the time; it was curated/ moderated and where you went when you wanted to read something you knew would be good, or at least conform to certain standards, unlike The Pit [which is still garbage today]). And I got rejected. My grammar and spelling were awful (I didn't even have spell-check in whatever program I was using) and they said the whole thing had good bones, but I really needed to work on the English before they'd look at it again. Getcherself a beta, they suggested, and I think they had a forum where writers and betas could connect. So I got myself a beta and she stuck with me for like 30 chapters, answering questions and keeping my characterization on-track and basically re-teaching me the rules of written English. I tried to email her a few years ago to thank her again, but her email bounced back. Her name was Julia and if she sees this, thank you Julia. You're a wonderful person.

Anyway, I wrote lots in that fic universe for like 2 months, then got another job and tapered off. I abandoned it completely after a year. Life got in the way of a lot of things, and the next time I was really inspired to write anything was a couple years later, for Supernatural. I only put it on my LJ, never posted to a community or anything, and no one read it. Literally, I don't think the post got any hits at all and for sure no one commented. I sometimes think about putting it on AO3 just because. And then Sherlock happened and here we are.

satin_doll: Do you think writing fanfic has hurt or hindered your original work? Why or why not? (that looks like a high school test question - sorry!)

sunken_standard: Lol @ test question :D

I'm not really sure, tbh. On one hand, I only have so much creative energy—it's definitely a finite resource, and a scarce one—and devoting it to fanfic diverts it from any original work. On the other hand, all writing is practice. The only way to improve is to keep doing, no matter what it is. So in that sense, fanfic's certainly helped me to find a comfortable voice and a prose style that works for me. There are still problems to solve, figuring out the best approach to a scene or story from a technical standpoint (stuff like tense and perspective and all that), so I'm always learning something as I go. Mixed bag, really.

satin_doll: What was it about the Sherlock/Molly dynamic that got you started on a piece like “Longer Than the Road…” What did you see there that made you want to explore it in such detail?

sunken_standard: So I always talk about how Sustain was my come-to-Jesus moment with Sherlock and Molly. Here's something I've never told anybody, not even maybe_amanda (because I was kind of ashamed, but not for the reasons people might think): before ever reading Sustain, I started a story that was Sherlock/ John and Sherlock/ Molly. I had it roughly outlined and a few pages written, but I just kind of lost the feeling of it and it was starting to get problematic for character motivations, yada yada, so into the scrap heap it went. It had a passing similarity to Sustain because of a platonic-sex-for-pregnancy element (hence why I never talked about it), but the major difference was that it was going to end up as a kind of polyamorous arrangement, Sherlock loving both of them and having a kind of co-parenting triad. In mine, John wanted a baby, and Molly wanted her own baby, and Sherlock thought “best of both worlds!” and why do IVF when you can write awkward angst-fucking instead. But yeah, I never finished it.

Anyway, I always saw something there, but I couldn't make it work in a way that was consistent with my own characterization of Sherlock until after Series 2. Even in Series 1, he looks at her with a kind of fondness and a sort of bewilderment that just lends itself to nerds in love. At the time (and even now, tbh), I kind of attributed that to BC having a crush on Loo (and oh man do I have theories, which are gossipy and gross and not the kind of thing I usually even bother having opinions about, but have you listened to the S1 commentary and some of the interviews around that time? there's something more there) and that kind of just spilling over onscreen and it working for the editor because it makes BC look sexy.

I mean look, I make no secret of the fact I started off shipping Sherlock with John almost exclusively (though I'd read just about anything), and after S1 aired it was just a different time. I get really annoyed when people talk shit about the pairing and the people who still ship them, because most of them weren't even in the fandom at the time and didn't have the same experience as the OGs. When Series 1 aired, hardly anyone knew who BC was, and Martin was just the guy from The Office and some other shows that were kind of unremarkable; most of the fandom was composed of old-school ACD Sherlockians and a few stragglers (like me) that got there from Doctor Who or were just general mystery/ thriller fans that got sucked in. We had a different perception of it because we weren't led into it by Star Trek or Hobbits or MCU; the characters didn't have that baggage attached for us. A lot of us already had a perception of Holmes and Watson as some shade of gay, so it was no great leap to see the very obvious romance (and yes, they all called it that in interviews at the time) onscreen as a romantic one. Martin, when asked, said basically that he'd play the next series (S2) however they wrote it, and if romance was there he'd go down that road. Whatever, I don't need to defend it because people think what they think anyway.

Anyway, getting back to the actual question instead of a million tangents and rants, I think I saw a lot of the things that have since become like backbone tropes of the pairing (even in canon, with the whole “alone, practical about death” thing). Their interactions in S2 were great; everything hinted at more than what was on-screen. And I really liked the idea of exploring the dynamic that was pretty much already there, as far as Molly having both a crush and self-respect and Sherlock suddenly having to rely on this person (that he picked because she was reliable to begin with) who's a friend, but also kind of a stranger in the way that a lot of the people we consider friends are (at least, friends made in adulthood; work-friends, church-friends, club-friends, gym-friends). Past that, I really saw the potential for character growth stemming from their interactions, but not like her humanizing him or whatever; both of them gaining insight about themselves, with the other person (and their relationship) as a vehicle for those realizations. I think I could have done better on that front, but hindsight blah blah.

satin_doll: How familiar were you with the Sherlock Holmes character before the BBC series aired, and what made you want to write about him?

sunken_standard: So I wasn't very familiar at all. Just what was in the general cultural lexicon, maybe a few episodes of the Granada series on PBS as a kid, a few of the stories that I just couldn't get into when I tried to read them because I hate Victorian prose (hate it, everything about it, I won't read anything written before 1920 or so because I just hate it [Wilde being the singular exception, but I even get bogged down by him]). Oh, and the RDJ movie, which wasn't really Sherlock Holmes to me, but just like a Victorian-era action movie. After S1, I just devoured canon (though, full disclosure, I still haven't read all of it, probably only about 80%), then moved on to other adaptations and canon-era fic and pastiches, read a bunch of extra-canon material on the internet. So as far as that goes, I'm very much a poseur and newbie in the greater Sherlock Holmes fandom. At least I did my research?

Anyway, it really took the modern adaptation and BC's performance to make the character resonate with me. The aspects he chose to play up—the frustration and impatience and frantic mental energy—just hit a nerve. He really channeled the “gifted” experience (which I suspect was just a lot of BC himself bleeding through). Finally I could use a fictional character to bemoan how stupid everyone around me was and sound like a complete asshole and be completely in-character! The heavens smiled upon me.

Really though, I was initially attracted to how cerebral it was and how smart the fandom was overall. It was the early fandom (and I mean early, like days after episode 1 aired) that drew me in, at least to a participatory (vs. consumptive) level. Lots of very clever, very educated, very queer people having these deep, insightful discussions about everything (sometimes only tangentially related to the show). When I did start writing, I didn't have to dumb anything down; the challenge was to sound smarter than I actually am. And, I mean, I got to dredge up a lot of my own emotional baggage from being a perpetual outsider, which is always cathartic (and probably not very healthy, long-term, because it's not resolving anything, just exploiting myself, but that's a can of worms).

satin_doll: Are you more drawn to Sherlock or Molly as a character, or both equally? Why?

sunken_standard: Sherlock, I think, for the reasons described in the last question.

I don't generally identify with female characters in fiction, since my own identification as female is tenuous (and in general they're poorly written and poorly realized, but that's another story). I mean, I can draw from my own experiences as a (mostly) female-shaped person with female socialization, but I have a hard time intuiting feminine and it's harder for me to write a “normal” woman.

Paraphrasing something I read in an interview with another fic author I admire, writing a woman is always a self-portrait, and how much of yourself do you really want to reveal? Since I don't know how to woman correctly, I'm always afraid I'm going to slip up and hit the wrong beat for what a normal woman is and end up ruining the characterization. I do manage to channel a lot of my own frustrations with men, relationships, being a single and childless woman over 30, and the patriarchy into Molly's character, though.

I mean, don't get me wrong, I really love Molly (and always have—I was one of the first to use her as a main character and not just a punching bag or a punchline). I love her sense of humor and her job and her fashion sense, all of it. She's not one-dimensional. It's just easier for me to write Sherlock than it is to make decisions about who Molly is.

satin_doll: You are “internet famous” for Longer Than the Road (rightfully so!) What about that story do you think is so affecting for fans? How has “Road” influenced subsequent work you’ve done in the Sherlolly ship?

sunken_standard: You know, I'm really not sure why it seems to resonate with people. Maybe the homesickness or the exhaustion that comes with impermanence (and I mean, we all feel that on an existential level, everything's always changing and it's faster every year, just existing is like trying to walk in an earthquake). Or the healing/ recovery aspect of it (I tried to balance both sides, the affected and the caregiver). Or maybe I just wrote it at the right time (when there wasn't much else out there) and people kept coming back to it because it was familiar.

As for how it's influenced subsequent work... I'm sure it has, but I don't know how, exactly. I still think it's the best thing I've ever written and the closest to something literary I'll ever get, so in a way it's an albatross (no one ever wants to be reminded that they already peaked). I get frustrated when my newer work doesn't live up to the standard I set for myself with it. That frustration doesn't make me a better writer, it just makes me tired, so everything I do now is paler.

One thing it did do was cement my characterizations of Sherlock and Molly and the dynamic between them. I tend to write them a certain way and don't deviate from that, and that all has roots in the push-pull, love-hate thing I established in Longer Than the Road. I can't write Molly without a degree of contempt for Sherlock and I can't write Sherlock without a degree of shame and contrition in his feelings toward Molly.

satin_doll: How does feedback affect what you write? How important is it? Is it more important that a reader “get” the point of the work or just that they like it? What kind of reader do you write for?

sunken_standard: I try not to let feedback affect my writing. I mean, I only get positive feedback, really, so it's a high. I'm not trying to brag or anything; I count myself lucky that I don't get the shit others do (though I honestly think anybody that posts on The Pit is opening themselves up to it because it's a garbage dump, but I've never liked the site, so). I try not to let it go to my head or anything though.

I also try not to let it influence the direction my writing takes; I might do a comment fic or write a silly HC or something, but I like to keep my substantial pieces pure, so to speak. Though sometimes a comment sparks something and a whole other fic grows out of it, so I fail there, I guess. Sometimes it's a lot of pressure when people say they want to see more of something, or want me to write a kind of specific scenario, so I usually just don't, and then I feel bad about not giving nice people what they want and it starts this whole weird spiral of guilt and obligation and then swinging the other way and getting (internally) belligerent over not owing anybody anything. I uh, have a complicated relationship with my work being acknowledged in any capacity.

As for people “getting” it... I don't know if they really do or not. Sometimes I get comments and I can tell they're definitely on my wavelength and they picked up on an allusion or a detail or just saw or felt everything in the scene like I did when I was laying it out. Once in a while I get a comment that has a different interpretation than what I was trying to get across, and that's really cool because it makes me re-examine my own work and see it from a different perspective (which I think makes me stronger for the next thing). It's really validating when someone “gets” it, but at the same time, I write to entertain other people (as well as myself), so as long as they like it, I feel accomplished.

It's cliché, but I write for an audience of one. I've tried to write outside my taste and it doesn't end well. Sometimes I write tropes that aren't my bag (like the Wiggins “the Missus” thing, or kidfic/ pregnancy), but it's kind of like a nod and wink to people who do like it, rather than outright pandering. At least, that's what I tell myself. Sometimes you need to try on every bra in your size, even the ones you know you hate, just to make sure you're getting the right one, y'know?

satin_doll: Do you think fanfic has changed since you began writing it? If so, how?

sunken_standard: Yeah, but I don't think it's a good or bad thing. And it depends on where you look and what you consume.

In the last like five years, Tumblr's purity culture has shamed a lot of kink back into the closet, I think, and people (in my fandoms, at least) aren't really writing on the edge. I see darkfic, but it's about as dark as the night sky over Hong Kong. I think people are afraid to go really dark anymore because they don't want the backlash from a generation fed on a diet of pink princesses and promise rings. And I think everyone's desire for happy-ending escapism has ratcheted up because the real world is shit and TV shows are all playing Russian roulette with surprise deaths to add drama (thanks, The Walking Dead, for making that element so ubiquitous that the rest of the mainstream picked it up and ran).

On the other hand, I'm not seeing near the amount of badfic as I used to. It was never as much of a problem on the old platforms and AO3 (compared to The Pit), but there were always some. I mean, there are still lots of turds out there, but they all seem a bit more polished these days. As far as the English goes, at least. Maybe my fandoms are just maturing.

I think people interact a lot differently now, too. This is going to kind of tie into the next question, but the types of feedback are different now and I think authors have changed what and how they produce to kind of chase the dragon of positive feedback. Like, when I started, most public archives (read: not just one author's own website with all their fic, like you found in webrings a lot)—both completely open and curated—had some way to submit comments and allowed author replies. There was really no other way to let an author know you liked their work. I mean, some sites tracked numbers for bookmarking features or hit counts, but those weren't as... active(? I guess), they weren't really participatory for the reader.

Then AO3 came along and started the kudos thing (which people still bitch about because they think they get fewer comments; like be happy you get anything, ya fuckin' ingrates). Kudos count became a de facto rating system, thanks to the sort feature. Whenever I start reading for a new fandom, I pick a pairing, pick a rating, and sort by kudos. Sure, popularity isn't the best way to find good fic, but in any decent-sized fandom you can assume that the stuff on the first page is going to be written to a minimum standard. Anyway, one of the ways to game the system a bit on kudos is to do a multichapter fic; I've seen works that are like 80+ 200-word chapters (don't get me started on omnibus fic across fandoms). They aren't the best fic by far, but they pick up kudos every chapter, often from guests that are just people not signed in or on a different device. I'm not knocking it, exactly, since it front-paged me for more than one fic. Part of me still feels like it's disingenuous, but I also recognize that I should pull the stick out of my ass. Anyway, the kudos count was kind of the death of the one-shot longfic (which, when I wrote Longer Than the Road, was a pretty common format).

And now, it seems like the Tumblr fic culture is writing ficlets (under 1k words) and posting without a beta (and I do it too). Fic consumption has become a social activity. Reblogs aren't always about one's personal taste, they're a social signal of group affiliation. If you don't reblog certain things, you're suspect and given a wide berth. Woe betide the poor fucker that crosses party lines and posts one of the verboten ships. And I mean, this isn't just one fandom, I've seen complaints about it from all corners—Supernatural, Star Wars, MCU, Steven Universe ffs. I think when you have predominantly female spaces, you're always going to have an element of Mean Girl culture, y'know? I'm probably going to get my fingernails pulled out for being misogynistic or some kind of -phobic for saying that.

Whatever. It's true that a kind of hive-mind develops and all kinds of tropes and HCs get repeated until they become fanon. I mean, that kind of thing's always happened, but the whole culture of Tumblr forces you to identify yourself and your group affiliation by what fanon you subscribe to, probably because it's harder to find your tribe without dedicated community spaces like LJ had. With Tumblr, you basically have to trawl tags until you find your echo chamber.

I'm old and I fear change.

Tumblr ain't all bad, though. It's very collaborative, kind of like the old-school round-robin fic people used to do. Authors and artists riff off each other and a lot of really cool stuff comes out of these casual collaborations. And I do like the prompt lists; I remember kinkmemes and prompting communities back on LJ, but it feels more off-the-cuff and spontaneous to just give someone a numbered list and let them roll the dice for you.

You know what else has changed? We're kind of in a new era of epistolary storytelling with memes and shitposts; stories emerge that aren't prose (though might contain a prose element). I mean, people did mixed-media epistolary in 2008, but it was a lot harder then (create graphic, hand-code into text piece, hand-code all the italics and bolding and font changes to denote various media types, if you're really a wizard add in-line text links to audio clips to add ambiance). It's a lot easier to add a new thing on each reblog now, like someone does a video, followed by a 3-panel comic sketch, followed by a ficlet, and then a gif, you get the idea. I like it; it's just a shame that it's so ephemeral. Maybe that's part of the charm, though.

satin_doll: You’ve talked a bit about your experience with LiveJournal in the “old days”; what other platforms have you used in the past? Which ones did you like best?

sunken_standard: I went into it a little in another question, but I first posted fic to A Teaspoon and an Open Mind (www.whofic.com). Honestly, I don't remember much about it. I'm not sure, but I don't think they had a richtext editor at the time (2008) and I had to hand-code some or all of it. I vaguely remember having to do HTML for italics and paragraphs. I know I had to do that on LJ sometimes because the formatting from whatever word processor I was using at the time did some hinky shit sometimes on a copy/paste.

Next came LiveJournal (and DreamWidth, but I really only used that to back up my old LJ blog). It wasn't better than Teaspoon, just different. Teaspoon is niche, only fanfic and only for one fandom (well, one universe of fandoms, really, with all the spin-offs), where LJ was all kinds of stuff under one roof—personal blogs, communities with various intents and levels of participation, fanfic, fanart, gossip blogs, you name it. I liked the friendslist view thing; it was like proto-Tumblr. And you could talk to people on the threads; even personal blogs were like a forum.

I joined AO3 in 2011, after waiting like six months for more invites to open up, but I didn't post anything there until 2012. I'm really happy with it as a platform for posting fic. I like the editor and I like the tags, ratings, and sort features. I never even considered posting to ff.net because I'm a snobby fucker (and they can blow me with their whole “adult content ban” that still continues to be selectively enforced). Anyway, I preferred having my fic on AO3 before I even left LJ, since I didn't have to split my stories into parts because of character limits.

And then Tumblr took over and I kind of hate it, since you can't have conversations anymore, it's like leaving passive-aggressive post-its and there's no editing something once it gets reblogged, so typos and bad links and all that are always there. And even when the original is deleted, the reblog keeps going, which I really hate from a creator's standpoint (though the archivist/ curator part of me likes it because it doesn't get lost in the ether [the recent purge notwithstanding] like so much of the early days of the web did). Tumblr's really bad for posting anything but ficlets and links to fic on other sites.

satin_doll: What would your ideal fanfic publishing platform be like?

sunken_standard: Honestly, AO3 is just about as close to ideal as I can think of. I just wish you could directly upload images instead of having to do code jiggery-pokery to link to something hosted elsewhere. I've tried a million times and followed all the tutorials in an attempt to add the cover art to Longer Than the Road (gifted to me by @thecollapseinwonderland), but it just never works. It shows on the preview, but not on the live version and it's frustrating because I'm computer literate, goddamnit. Anyway. And I mean, in an ideal world there would be better ways to find quality fic to my taste, but there's no real way to add a rating system (like 5-stars) independent of kudos without discouraging authors (and I mean the potential for abuse and bullying is just too great).

Additional reader questions from @ohaine:

Stylistically, Longer than the road is quite different from the other fics at the top of the AO3 Sherlolly ratings; stream of consciousness at the beginning, and the nested internal thoughts. How much of that was a deliberate departure, and how much was you just channelling the story as it came out of you?

sunken_standard: At the time I was really influenced by a Sherlock/ John fic (I can't remember the title or author, it was 7 years ago, but I feel bad about forgetting). It was originally on LJ and their journal was a lightish blue color and the font was small (if anybody remembers this... there was something with an EKG and I think something with shooting up blood as a romantic gesture?). It was Sherlock POV and the author had a really unique way of presenting internal monologue. Anyway, at that time there was a lot of experimental writing going on on the slash side of things, it was great. To be perfectly honest, I hadn't read a lot of Sherlolly fic at that time because what did exist (as far as happy-ending/ happy-for-now stories vs like darkfic/ angst) was really, really not to my taste (the exception being Sustain). So it was only deliberate in that—even when I wasn't being experimental—I didn't want to write Harlequin books.

I wish a story like that would just come out of me. I mean, to a degree it did, but doing the thoughts and sub-thoughts was work. I mean, I've always been a brackets-and-footnotes kind of person because I like reading it, but the way I did the thoughts was more like writing HTML than a regular rambling narrative.

I think I read recently (maybe on a blog post?) that Riders on the storm was the original inspiration for Longer than the road. Was the scene in the storm your starting point with the story, or where did you begin?

sunken_standard: That was the first scene I wrote; at that time I had a really nebulous idea of the story. The imagery was really clear in my head, though the very earliest concept took place in the desert—the classic American image of the road going on forever and rusty sands and the heatwaves rising up off the asphalt. I'm not sure how it morphed into North Dakota, I might have seen a picture of lightning over the plains or something.

So after S2 aired, I just kind of sat and chewed it over for a month before any really strong ideas emerged for a story. I had to find the internal logic for the kind of plot I wanted to write—namely, them on the lam together. Making Sherlock have a breakdown seemed pretty natural at the time; in ACD canon (and many, many pastiches) he was always having them and going off to the country to recuperate. But he was supposed to be dead and he was all over the tabloids, so it's not like he could just move to some sleepy little village and hope no one recognized him.

I thought about sending him to Europe, using the places ACD Holmes went after Reichenbach (and I did start more than one with them in Florence, a few incarnations of which were Molly/ Irene wanklock PWPs, I actually think one of the Rusty Beds stories came from that, but I digress). The only problem with Europe is the language barrier; I thought it was too convenient to make Molly fluent in another language (she might have some conversational Spanish from a holiday or something, but that's it), so I had to make them go somewhere where English was common enough. I also didn't want them too far from the UK; I wanted Sherlock to be able to get on a plane and be back within half a day (I realize this isn't the reality of flying, but deus ex Mycroft, so). So Asia, Australia/ NZ, and even South Africa were out, leaving Canada, the US, or parts of the Caribbean. I didn't want them to by happy, so they didn't go to the Caribbean. Canada's great, but it's too nice and they also don't have deserts. America it was; it also really added some background tension because I think a lot of non-USians have a love-hate with us. Movies are okay, music too, and of course the tech and consumer innovations, but everything else is garbage and we're all just rude, ignorant, obese Yosemite Sams. For someone like Sherlock, I think the US is the last place he'd want to go (even though canon ACD Holmes was really into America). And I mean, write what you know, so that was that sorted.

Once I got them here I needed them to do something; I wanted to tell a very intimate story, and that would be boring if they were just living in a 2BR cape cod in Jersey. And I mean, what city would really suit Sherlock? Where could he have a life that wasn't London? Anyway, the inside of a car is just about as intimate as two people can get, and the greatest tradition in American literature and film is the road trip, and that was when I knew I had a solid foundation for a story. After that, it just kind of flowed as I planned the route.

Perfect, not perfect-perfect is a beautiful, brave piece that I think has a real air of authenticity to it. It was a very tough read, purely because of the journey the characters are on, and I wondered how difficult it was for you to write? Was it catharsis or an emotional black hole?

sunken_standard: You know, I'm not really sure if it was either catharsis or black hole. A lot of the particulars and even the emotional places in that story aren't mine, but an amalgam of some other friends' experiences with polyamory. My own experience with it was pretty shit and pretty unremarkable, but I learned a lot about the human heart and how some people can lie to themselves because they can't let go of their ideals and their identities (I'm also still a little bitter), but that's got nothing to do with the price of tea in China, so moving on.

Since a lot of those experiences weren't mine, it wasn't raw, so it wasn't very hard on me, personally. I think I wrote it in like three days? I don't think I wanted it to be a slog, so that's why it's in present tense and very sparse and matter-of-fact. Dispassionate, even. There are times when I'm writing really emotional stuff that I'm disconnected from it (which is a fuckin' mercy, because most of the time I'm right there going through it, over and over for days sometimes until I get the scene right and can move on to the next thing), and this was one of those times. I was writing this alongside the Girlfriend series, so there was some overlap there; I'd already done the emotional labor for everything up to Mary's death and I was thinking of different angles of approach for later installments of the series.

The most “me” part of it is near the beginning, writing my way around the bisexual experience from someone else's point of view. I don't have a lot in common with any of the characters; they're a higher social class, urban, products of a more liberal culture, yada yada, but there are some things that are just kind of universal and misunderstood about bisexuals, the stereotypes that we have to contend with and end up internalizing.

Oh, and the perpetual alienation is all me, too. Molly's feelings of being left behind are mine, how I felt every time friendships drifted apart or when female friends got married and then had kids. So a lot of the fatalism and insecurity are me projecting how I would feel or react. I kind of like depressed Molly, more than the perpetual ray of sunshine/ cinnamon roll at least.

*********

Many thanks to sunken_standard for taking the time to answer these questions!

And many thanks and much love to OhAine for all her hard work putting this project together! It’s been fun and enlightening!

Next week, Friday 29th March, it’s the turn of @ellis-hendricks and @geekmama

#content creator interviews #sherlolly #Sherlock #ashockinglackofsatin #sunken_standard

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itsclydebitches · 5 years

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RWBY Recaps: The Shining Beacon Pt. 2

This is the last (!!!) reposting from March 26, 2018 in an effort to get all my recaps onto tumblr. Thanks!

With Volume Five completed and the latest season of RWBY Chibi underway, I thought it time to start these recaps back up again. Yes, we're jumping around a bit--back to Volume One--but we'll get to all the episodes eventually!

In fact, the simple days of Volume One feel pretty wonderful right now...

We begin with a pan across Beacon's entrance (our shining Beacon as the title attests), giving us another good look at the school that's presumably the best Huntsmen academy in Remnant. We're not told exactly how much time has passed between this episode and the last, but I guess it's been a couple of hours? When we last saw Ruby and Jaune they were lost, looking for a food court, and when they meet up with Yang she asks Ruby how her day has been. I'd love to read some fics exploring their first few hours together before they finally figured out where to go.

So it's presumably late afternoon when all the freshmen gather in a large meeting room, the same one that will later be used to welcome the other academies and allow everyone to choose their first missions. For now though it's chock full of shadow people and Ruby immediately abandons Jaune once she spots Yang--which is pretty rude of her? I get that Ruby is supposedly bad at making friends, but contrary to that we've always seen her as incredibly sensitive towards others and she was just abandoned by Yang earlier that day. She calls her out on it two seconds later too, so I actually find it a little hard to believe that Ruby would ditch the one new person who's been nice to her when he clearly has nowhere else to go. Jaune literally lurks in the background being awkward.

I’ve been there, Jaune. It sucks.

Nevertheless, it allows the writers to flesh out his Nice Guy mentality that we'll see him working to overcome over the next two volumes. As Ruby leaves, Jaune wonders where he'll find another "nice, quirky girl to talk to." We're not in a YA novel, Jaune. There are no manic pixie dream girls to sooth your manly angst.

Oh, except for the redhead that's conspicuously revealed when Jaune walks off screen. Not that I would ever disparage the glorious Pyrrha Nikos with such a title.

Yang: "I saved you a spot!"

You... did? In the giant room with only a handful of people that Rooster Teeth had the time and budget to animate? Oh yeah, I'm sure it was real hard claiming that spot for Ruby.

As Ruby tears into Yang for ditching her and recaps all the shit she went through that morning, Yang develops an expression that is the very embodiment of yikes and asks if Ruby is having a "meltdown already?" Interesting choice of words. It could just be exaggerated, sibling teasing--to match what Yang assumes is an exaggerated tale--but I do wonder if Ruby has had "meltdowns" before. We don't know much about their lives pre-Beacon, but I can imagine that a socially awkward girl growing up in a world infested by grimm, who lost her mom too early, dealt with a depressed father, and was in part raised by a sister just two years older than her might have had a tantrum or two.

I do find it a little hilarious though that Yang doesn't believe her at first. Given everything Ruby is going to do in the next week alone, it’s 100% believable that she would explode on her first day of school. Classic Ruby.

As she recounts the whole debacle, who should overhear but scary, shouting Weiss? I absolutely love that they have her literally creeping up behind Ruby only to yell "YOU!" at the end of her speech. If Weiss really hated this girl she could have easily ignored her. But no. Weiss' dramatic ass has to re-introduce herself in the most extra way possible. As Ruby throws herself into Yang's arms (adorable) Weiss gives a sped-up, high-pitched legal info dump about what the Schnee Dust Company is and is not responsible for. At the time this was pretty funny--another one of the cutesy edits that characterize Volumes One through Two--but now that we know more about Weiss' home life? About her abusive father and how the dignity of the Schnee name has been ground into her since birth? The fact that Weiss can rattle this off and feels like she has to suddenly isn't very funny anymore.

Ruby tries to salvage the situation by starting things over and asking to be friends, and of course Weiss is an absolute brat about it. She mimics the cliched, air-headed girl, saying that she and Ruby can "Try on cute clothes and paint our nails and talk about boys!" throwing in an insult at poor Jaune while she's at it ("scraggly"). The fact that Ruby happily agrees tells me two things: 1. She shares a lot of those traditionally "feminine" interests (which is great considering we usually only see her geeking out over weaponry) and 2. this is some of the first evidence we see for headcanoned autistic!Ruby. Weiss' tone is very clearly sarcastic, but Ruby reads it as quite earnest, honestly surprised when it's revealed she's being duped. Before these three can start a real fight though Ozpin takes the stage to make, in his own words, a short announcement.

Now this is by far one of the most fascinating moments in Volume One. Especially after Volume Five's world building. A lot of fans have speculated that Ozpin isn't... well, Ozpin here. That one of his other souls (perhaps the man whose body he currently inhabits) is the one speaking to the new students. This is based mostly off of Ruby and Yang's comments that he "seemed kind of off" and, crucially, that is was "almost like he wasn't even there." Admittedly there are a number of holes in this theory (If a full merge is a thing, wouldn't Ozpin's latest two souls already have merged by now considering that he's possessed that body for years? How does Yang know when he's "off"? She's never even met the guy), and ultimately I'm inclined to think that these were lines that perhaps were supposed to go somewhere, but were then dropped. Or just generic ‘oooh look Ozpin is mysterious’ characterization.

Regardless, there is something pretty fishy about this scene, most notably the cinematography. Ozpin is animated primarily in close ups with half his face (his eyes) cut off, he's shot once from behind, and only once do we get to see his whole expression. As said, he's filmed as if he's this mysterious, shadowy figure that we're just meeting; like we hadn't already had a whole conversation with him over cookies two episodes back. If you wanted to make a case that someone other than Ozpin is speaking here, the cinematography might be one way to do it. But, more likely, I think it’s RT pushing for the ‘he’s super morally gray!’ aspect, even though we actually learn too much about Ozpin to really make that work.

His dialogue is just as interesting though. Ozpin tells the kids that all he sees is "wasted energy," that no matter how driven they might be to succeed it means nothing without proper effort. Dreams alone won't cut it: "Knowledge will only take you so far. It's up to you to take the first step." Ozpin is far from one to shy away from reality, but he's usually kinder than this too. This is perhaps additional evidence that a part of Ozpin--one we don't see very often--is in control here; a personality not as inclined to sugarcoat things.

This word choice also tells us a lot about his motivations. As we'll learn later, Jaune forged his transcripts to get into Beacon and a lot of people wonder why the hell Ozpin would let an untrained kid get away with that. Ultimately though Jaune isn't in much more danger than anyone else. As Pyrrha's death makes abundantly clear, even the strongest of them can easily fall when up against the sorts of enemies they face. Thus, Ozpin prizes determination--the drive to do good--over talent or current levels of strength. Jaune was let in because he took his own first (admittedly illegal and arguably immoral) step and Ozpin, like with Ruby, rewards his resolve. This reminds me of Raven who has the knowledge of the threat Salem poses but refuses to do anything about it. Already we’re seeing characters who have internal motivations (a need to do good) and later we’ll meet others who just... don’t.

Again, Pyrrha showed us that being a prodigy is not a guarantee of success. Ozpin reminds everyone of that here.

But that horrible episode is still a ways off!

For now the kids shrug off his ominous speech and crowd together later that night in the dining hall for a sleepover, considering that they still haven't passed initiation and haven't found their teams yet. Yang jokes that Dad wouldn't approve of them sleeping with all these boys, though it's clear that she does. (Bi Yang, bi Yang!) Ruby continues writing a letter to "the gang back at Signal" which honestly kind of drives me up the wall? Yang ran off with her shadow friends and Ruby is writing to Signal friends and neither of these groups are ever heard from again. Yes, obviously the show is about their new friends at Beacon, but past friendships are important too, particularly for Ruby. She's been uprooted two years early and is supposedly really bad at forming new relationships. Theoretically we should have gotten something touching on all this: Yang torn between her new team and old loyalties; Ruby avoiding trying to get close to Weiss by texting Signal buddies. It would have rounded things out a whole lot more and, once we expand beyond Beacon in Volume Four, would have given us a lot of opportunities to see how these girls are connected to Remnant as a whole.

They're certainly determined to make friends now though. Ruby spots the girl from earlier in the courtyard (Blake) and before she can stop her Yang quite literally drags them over with a hilariously drawn-out, "Hello!" Too bad Blake isn't interested in pleasantries. Especially when Yang draws attention to her bow. She won't shake their hands and is pretty damn blunt about how she wants them to leave. We have a clear divide down the team between the social butterflies (Ruby + Yang) and the abused girls who haven't had the chance to figure out how to talk to people yet (Weiss + Blake). It makes for a well-balanced dynamic and later a whole lot of conflict.

Blake will always have a soft spot for books though. She opens up a bit when Ruby asks the title of hers and explains that it's about “A man with two souls, each fighting for control over his body.” Ha. THAT'S not significant or anything.

We have some lovely setup for Volume Two/Three in which Blake lectures Ruby on how real life isn't like a fairy tale. Ruby already knows this. She just wants to work to make it as close to one as possible. A lot of viewers forget the difference between naivety and optimism when it comes to her characterization and though Ruby will prove short-sighted in many respects later on, she’s never thought the world was perfect.

As Ruby and Yang get into another cartoon fight (a visual technique we won't be seeing for long), the commotion draws over Weiss who is not pleased that the troublemaker is Ruby again. She yells that Ruby is a "hazard to my health!" and I cackle at what a little drama queen she is. As they continue their fight Blake blows out her candle, ending our episode with the first shot that contains all of Team RWBY.

Other Details

When Weiss yells at Ruby she cries, "Oh god it's happening again!" 'Oh God' is such a common phrase in the English language that it only makes sense we'd use it to help characters express themselves, but it still raises some interesting, in-world questions. Is there a lot of organized religion? We know Qrow mentions people believing in various gods, but is it common enough to create this same phrase? Meanwhile, poor Ozpin has to cope with knowing that gods do exist and they're absolute assholes.

Ozpin doesn't even introduce himself to the kids. Like yeah, obviously everyone already knows who he is, but he could have at least started with a "Hey, I'm old as balls Ozpin" instead of jumping straight into a lecture about how pathetic their work ethic is. I’m torn between the “That wasn’t Ozpin” theory and just a straight up, “The man is SAVAGE at times hell yeah.” Granted, this is the guy that’s gonna chuck his students off a cliff in a few hours, so I’m leaning towards the latter...

We see Ozpin making use of his cane despite the fact that he doesn't appear to need it 99% of the time. Easiest way to walk around with it, or was this particular body injured once?

Love how horribly offensive Yang is here lol: "Yeah, this girl is a lost cause." Like damn Blake's right there!

Ruby is dressed in a tank top that I think has an Ursa on it. Made all cute of course and with a face mask with matching, red slitted eyes. It's a great bit of world building and says a lot about Ruby's personality. (Honestly I wouldn't be surprised to see Nora in those PJs either.)

#rwby #mymetas #RWBY Recaps

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twdeadfanfic · 6 years

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Life at the end of the world Pt.11

Summary: Your life as a zombie apocalypse survivor. It starts with the Reader settling into the camp at the quarry, before s1 and then follows the show events and storyline, more or less, but with the Reader in it.

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader

Warnings: Slow burn, violence, language.

Author’s note: I’ve been itching to write a fic like this for a long while and I write it for fun, I don’t claim to be a writer so if you find you dislike this fic, please be kind and just stop reading. English’s not my first language so maybe there’re some mistakes, I apologize in advance. For the same reason, I can’t write character’s accents and things like that. At any rate, I hope you enjoy it. There’d be several parts to this.

N/A: Quite self-indulgent chapter, between season 2 and 3, apologies if it’s not your thing,we’ll reach the prison soon. Fun fact, I wrote this before I wrote season 1 and 2, the first thing I wrote was the first half of season 3.

Surviving the winter was hard.

You moved from place to place without staying anywhere for long, the dead always close, chasing the living. Most times you could stay in the same place only for a day before a herd of walkers roamed dangerously close, forcing you to run away

There were days when at least you had a roof over your head, staying at some old house or abandoned cabin, but a lot of times you were forced to camp in the middle of nowhere. That had been the worst, especially at first when you were forced to make camp with just a few blankets, having left most of your belongings at the farm, until Maggie and Glenn managed to find some camping gear on a run. Still, as the weather grew colder, it was hard to keep the cold out of your thin tents and most nights you found yourself trying to sleep through chatting teeth, huddled close to Carol in your sleeping bags.

But you were alive, and you were together, and that was what mattered.

Rick had proven himself to be a good leader, despite all your worries and doubts and even Carol had to admit it, he kept you going, kept you safe and motivated. Daryl had been right, though sometimes cold as hard, Rick was no tyrant. He leaned on Hershel and Daryl, talking his decisions with them but also listening to all of you.

He cared for you, striving to keep you all safe. It was obvious, even if he didn’t externally show it much, busy as he was taking care of his pregnant wife and kid while making sure you all you were okay too. You all cared for him as in return too, the same way as you cared for each other.

You all had become a family, one you were beyond grateful for. Those people were your world and there wasn’t a day you weren’t grateful for them. You all were tired and scared, but you kept each other going, always there for each other, never giving up.

It wasn’t easy, some days you were at each other’s throats, arguing about little stupid things. It was no wonder, having to be always together in such close quarters, but at the end of the day, you were always there for each other.

There was a bond between all of you that you were sure was unbreakable and some days it was the only thing that kept you going when despair took hold of you.

If you had to take something good out of your situation, besides becoming a close family, it’d be that it had forced you to handle weapons, no matter most of you weren’t used to it before, and you all were getting increasingly good at killing the monsters.

You still preferred guns to hand to hand weapons like knives, your small size being a disadvantage when most walkers were rather taller than you. You could work your knife, sure, and had ended your fair share of walkers, but you were more comfortable with your gun and you were proud of how good your aim was by now.

Carol was also working on it, and sometimes you two would get into friendly competitions. It wasn’t often, though, since you had to save bullets and the noise would bring every walker nearby to your group. You wished you could practice your aim more often, but the only gun silencer you had found for now had gone to Carl and still, you couldn’t waste the bullets, so you found yourself neglecting your gun and relying on your knife more than you’d have liked to.

You had been eyeing Daryl’s crossbow with well-meaning envy, since it was silent and most times he was able to get his arrows back, besides making his own with a skill that amazed you. Daryl had caught your wanting eyes and much to your surprise had eventually allowed you to try the crossbow so you could keep practicing your aim.

It wasn’t as easy as you had hoped and totally different from working a gun. You were proud to say your aim with a gun was rather good but with the crossbow you felt like a beginner again, arrows working way different than bullets. It kicked back harder than you expected, making you miss your targets as the crossbow moved, hurting your arm a couple of times.

Not to mention the process of recharging the arrow and tensing the string, which required strong arms and had you cursing the effort every time you had to do it. Daryl would just chuckle quietly at your frustration but he kept letting you try whenever you had free time and wanted to practice your aim without wasting bullets and making a fuss.

“I think I’ll stick to guns.” You said deflated one day after missing your target for the third time in a row, unable to control the kickback, your arms sore and hurting.

“Then you’ll never be good at this,” Daryl said while retrieving the arrow from the tree trunk you were using for practice. You had missed the mark Daryl had drawn on it and you glared at the tree as if it were its fault.

“I’m not getting any good.” You complained grumpily, handing him the crossbow, feeling done for the day.

“You wanted to practice, quit bitching.” Daryl took the crossbow just long enough to reload it, taking in your tired arms before handing it back to you. “Again.”

By the time you went back to the cabin where your group was staying for the day, your arms were sore but you had managed to hit the mark.

You sat down next to Carol with a proud smile.

“Now, look at that face.” Carol laughed. “I’d say you’re getting better.”

“Yes, now I can hit things that don’t move one time out of ten.” You joked, taking a bite of tuna from the can Carol passed you.

You were running low on food again, having to share even the tiniest cans, trying to give as much food as possible to Lori. She was getting bigger, but her face was getting more and more thin and pale, and you all worried for her even though you didn’t say it aloud.

Daryl’d hunt for you whenever he could, but it was getting harder for him to find any game and you saw him growing more and more frustrated and worried each day. You didn’t know if it was the geeks or the cold, but animals were scarce to find. Daryl wouldn’t give up though, no matter what.

Glenn and Maggie went on runs whenever they could, both of them being the most expert of you at scavenging supplies, but that too was starting to get hard. There weren’t many places unspoiled, stores where already empty and any house you found seemed to have been emptied long ago. Rick wanted you to keep out of the beating track but soon you had reached a point in which you needed to go on runs to bigger places from time to time.

As your confidence on your skills grew, you started to go on more runs to help, sometimes with Maggie and Glenn, sometimes with Daryl on his bike, whenever the road was too blocked for the cars.

Carol wouldn’t join your runs much, busy as she was learning everything she could from Hershel, mostly in order to help Lori deliver her baby, she needed all the help she could get.

You were closer to Carol than to any other in your group and she was still your best friend, but as you went on more runs you found yourself growing close to Glenn and Maggie, becoming fast friends with the farmer girl. She was sweet and kind like Carol, even though sometimes she showed a tough face, and funny and brave. You admired how good she was with her knife, walkers dropping at her feet whenever you encountered a group in your runs.

“It’s just that I’m taller so it’s easier for me, but you are good too.” Maggie would tell you whenever you complained, throwing her arm around your shoulders in a half hug.

The heart eyes Glenn would always give her told you that you weren’t alone in your admiration, and they were such a cute, strong couple you loved to be around them, enjoying your runs together no matter the danger.

The same way, you had grown closer to Daryl too. Back in the farm, you had started to see a side of him that had been hidden when his brother had been around, you had seen how he actually had a kind, big heart that drove him to help others. He was completely loyal to Rick and your group, and there was no doubt he cared for all you as if you were family.

He had been slowly opening up to the group, especially to Carol who you were sure was his best friend and the first one to get him to do so, and to Rick, who relied on Daryl for help and who in return had won Daryl’s respect and affection.

You felt safe with him, his presence comforting in your darkest moments, and you even enjoyed your runs together, which gave you a chance to talk more with him, slowly getting to know more about him, tiny bits and pieces of information about him and his life before that he’d share with you ever so slowly, and which you cherished. Though usually, it was you who made all the talking while Daryl just listened, but he never complained and seemed genuinely interested in whatever you were saying.

And so you found yourself growing fonder of the archer.

You thought Daryl was closer to you too or at the very least you were sure he saw you as a good friend too. Friend enough to let you try his crossbow and take you with him on runs, it seemed, which wasn’t little.

As time passed, you felt more and more comfortable around him, enough to joke around with him and Carol, who seemed keen of teasing the shy archer whenever she had a chance but who deeply cared for him, and soon they both, along with Maggie, became the people you were closer to in the group, seeking their company during those challenging, tiring days or nights when you felt yourself despair, hunger, fear, and cold getting a hold of you. But whenever your mood faltered, you could count on your family to pull you back to your feet.

One day, you weren’t sure after how many days on the move anymore, you woke up to find that everyone else in your camp was already up and making plans for the day. It was later than you usually woke up and you weren’t one to oversleep these days, but you had been up in watch duty with T-Dog for the most part of the night.

You saw Rick and Daryl had a map lying on top of Rick’s car hood. They were studying it and you walked closer to see what they were looking, munching on a cereal bar Carol had tossed at you.

“Road is almost blocked so it might be dangerous.” Rick was frowning at the map, always looking worried and half exhausted these days. You knew he felt the pressure of having to provide not only for all of you but for Lori and the baby especially.

“We have to do it anyway.” Daryl shrugged. “It’s okay, it’s not that far, it’ll be easy.”

Rick gave the archer a small smile as if he were grateful he was trying to keep spirits high and ease his worries. “It’s probably empty already, but it’s quite in the middle of nowhere so it’s worth a shot.”

“What’s worth a shot?” You asked when you got close, leaning over the map.

“A service area not too far from here.” Rick pointed at it on the map. “Daryl’s going on a run to see if there’s something useful left.”

“You coming?” Daryl raised his eyebrows at you.

“Sure thing!”

Not even fifteen minutes later you were already speeding up the road on Daryl’s bike. When you hit the road that led to the service area, it didn’t take you long to see why the cars couldn’t go. As Rick had told you, the road was almost blocked by cars. It seemed there had been a traffic jam back at the beginning that had ended up badly. There were a few walkers roaming around, not enough to call it a herd, and they turned their heads towards you when they heard the motorbike.

Daryl just ignored them, zigzagging the bike through cars and walkers equally as if they were nothing. You trusted him but you couldn’t help your fear as the monsters snapped at you, never reaching you, and you closed your eyes, pressing your face to Daryl’s back and holding tight to him.

“You okay?” Daryl asked over the rumble of the bike and you nodded but didn’t look up.

As Rick had said, the service area was quite out of the beaten track and was also rather smaller than you had expected. It consisted of which seemed to have been a bar or restaurant for travelers to rest and a gas station a few meters away.

“They won’t catch up to us for a while,” Daryl told you when he saw you worriedly glancing towards the road where you had left the walkers.

You headed for the restaurant first. There were a couple of cars parked in front of it and you walked towards one, leaving the other for Daryl. There was a dead woman on the passenger seat, but she wasn’t moving, seeming dead for real and when you pulled her out of the vehicle, trying not to think much about it, you saw the bullet hole on her temple.

There weren’t much to scavenge inside besides car papers and licenses. You only found a pack of gums and a pair of sunglasses that you tried on, deciding they didn’t look bad. And the woman wasn’t going to need them anymore.

“Any luck?” You asked Daryl, tossing him the gums. “Well’ it’s something...” You let out a sigh when he showed you a pack of chocolate cookies. They were probably melted and out of date but you weren’t going to say no to chocolate.

“Come on.” Daryl headed to the building and you followed him.

It was too dark inside too see anything through the windows and they were too dirty anyway, but when Daryl knocked on the glass nothing happened. The door was held closed with a metal bar, which was never a good signal, but you couldn’t just leave empty handed and no walker had come to the windows no when Daryl knocked, so between you and Daryl, you managed to remove it. Turning on your lanterns, you opened the door and stepped inside.

First the smell then the sight made your stomach turn and you almost gagged. There were several bodies scattered around, half rotten and more than half eaten. Walking closer you saw all of them had a neat bullet hole in the middle of their forehead.

“Like they were executed or something...” Daryl muttered.

“What happened here?” You asked but he just shrugged.

You had goosebumps on your skin, a horrible feeling washing over you and you couldn’t wait to be out of there so you rushed to explore. You knew you couldn’t carry much with you in the bags attached to the motorbike, but you hoped you could find some useful stuff. To your disappointment, the place seemed empty.

You were so sure the place was empty of walkers that when you heard one crawling towards your direction from a corridor you almost jumped out of your skin. You aimed quickly, landing a perfect headshot. Judging by the state of the corpse, it seemed it’d been trapped there for a while.

“Why I can’t do that with the crossbow.” You complained and heard Daryl chuckling.

Unable to find anything useful in the restaurant main area or in the bar beside broken alcohol bottles, you went to the kitchen. You found another two walkers there which also looked dried out and half rotten. They were munching on the remains of which seemed to have been a person once, but there wasn’t much left. You felt almost sick at the sight but Daryl acted quick, shooting an arrow to the head of one and sinking his knife in the head of the other.

“I don’t think that’s sanitary...” You joked nervously when Daryl took back his arrow and cleaned the gore on his shirt.

You had more luck there, even if just a little. The kitchen seemed to have been emptied already too, and the food and produce were rotten but you managed to find hidden a few cans of tuna, some others of spam and a couple cans of beans.

“Better than nothing.” You said to Daryl while you get the cans inside your bags, knowing he’d been hoping for a bigger haul.

You left the restaurant and headed towards the gas station without much hope, but after scooping around Daryl managed to find two fuel bottles which lifted his mood immediately and you couldn’t help your smile when you saw his.

“Let’s head back,” Daryl told you and you nodded.

You stopped in your tracks after a couple of steps when you heard a small cry coming from somewhere close. The sound was so soft you thought you might have imagined it, but Daryl looked at you like he’d heard it too.

“There.” He pointed at some worn-out cardboard boxes next to a wall.

You walked closer and heard again a tiny whimper coming from a cardboard box that was covered by several other holed cardboards.

Daryl lifted the cardboards so you could see what was inside the box, and you gasped, not sure if you were more shocked or delighted at the sight of what you found.

There were three kittens inside, lying over a cat you supposed was their mother. She gave you a soft mew and looked at you warily, but didn’t move. She seemed very tired and you guessed she hadn’t had the chance to eat much lately.

“Kittens!” You couldn’t help your squeal and knelt down to watch them. “They’re so cute, I never thought I’d see kittens again...”

Daryl knelt down next to you with a worried frown, and now that your initial, delighted surprise was ebbing you worried too.

“What do we do? We can’t just leave them here...” They were bound to be walkers food if a group found them.

“It’s not like they’d be safer with us, Y/N, we don’t have a safe place or anything,” Daryl told you, but he seemed reluctant to leave them there too. “And I’m not sure we could take them on the bike.”

You knew it was true but it still broke your heart. The kittens weren’t newborn but they were tiny enough it’d take them a couple weeks at the very least to be able to survive on their own.

“But the herd is coming, they’ll find them...” You whimpered disgruntled.

You watched as Daryl carefully let one of his hands hover over the box as if to see if the mother would attack him or not before lowering it. One of the kittens lifted his head and got up, walking towards the hand and Daryl reached his finger, letting the kitten give him a shy sniff.

“We can try and get them a safer home than a cardboard box.” Daryl finally said, getting up and looking around. “There.” He nodded towards the other side of the gas station where there were some broken pallets and small wooden planks on the floor.

You helped Daryl carry everything he deemed useful back to the box. You weren’t sure of what he wanted to do, but you followed his instructions as he placed and stacked the pieces of wood here and there. Soon it began to take form and by the end, he had created some sort of wooden fortification around the box.

“Aren’t they trapped inside now?” You asked worriedly.

“Nah.” He pointed at the tiny holes between each wooden plank. “They can breathe through there, and that,” he pointed at a slightly bigger hole at the back, half hidden, “allows them to go in an out but it’s not on sight. They better be smart enough to keep quiet, though.”

“You are amazing Daryl Dixon.” You smiled in awe, but he just scoffed, looking down as his cheeks turned pink.

Carefully, Daryl lifted the couple planks that served as a roof so you could take a last look at the kittens. They were more awake now, inspecting the planks, some of them even trying to scratch the wood with their tiny nails.

“Careful with the noise there.” Daryl scolded, gently tapping the head of one of the kittens with his finger, earning himself the smallest bite.

Slowly, you scratched the mother behind the ears and soon she was purring. “I love cats purring, I never thought I’d hear it again...” You smiled blissfully, scratching one of the kittens now.

“You think Rick’d be mad if we give them some of that tuna we found?” You asked uncertainly. You knew Rick had a good heart but he’d probably not trade his family food for some kittens he hadn’t even seen.

“We could not tell him...” Daryl replied but he sounded unsure as if he didn’t like to lie to Rick.

“I’ll tell him it was my fault.” You offered.

“No, it’s fine.” Daryl was already taking a can of tuna out of the bag and he let it next to the mother after opening it. The cat sniffed at it curiously and then began to eat from it as if she were starving, one of the kittens sticking his head on it too. They seemed hungry and you ended up leaving them almost half of your tuna cans haul and one of spam.

“Ready?” Daryl asked after putting the wooden roof back in place safely.

“Yeah.” You nodded and followed him to his bike. “Thanks for this.” Daryl just shrugged at your words, looking away from you as he got onto his bike.

You looked at the road and saw that the small group of walkers you had passed earlier that day was getting closer. No matter if it was small, you shuddered at the idea of having to zigzag through them on the bike again.

“I hope they’ll be okay...” You gave a last worried look at the kitten fort before getting behind Daryl on the bike and held to him.

“They’ll be,” Daryl assured you, turning the engine on as soon as he felt your arms around him. “Probably those walkers will follow the sound of the bike away from here...we gotta lose them before reaching the camp, tho...”

You were glad for the kittens although the perspective for your trip didn’t sound good at all, but you nodded and gritted your teeth, holding tight to Daryl, trusting him to get you home safely.

He did, although you arrived at the camp when the sun was almost down already and you were greeted by the worried eyes and worried questions of your friends before Rick cleared his way to you.

“You alright?” He questioned, his eyes easing when he took in your unharmed state. “What took you so long?”

Daryl looked at you for a second and spoke before you could do so. “Walkers on the way. The usual.” He shrugged, avoiding Rick’s eyes, and you nodded a bit too eagerly at his words, wanting to keep the kittens secret just in case.

Rick arched an eyebrow at you two like he didn’t believe Daryl but didn’t question any further and he began helping you unpack your little haul, face lifting when he saw the fuel bottles tied to the bike, that’d allow your group to keep moving for a while.

“You had us worried,” Carol told you while you kept her company during watch duty. “We always come back before the sun goes down, no matter what.”

It was obvious she hadn’t believed Daryl’s excuses, she knew you both and knew you were hiding something, and you bit your lip, wanting to tell her.

“Don’t tell the other’s okay?” You finally said quietly and Carol nodded, a smile tugging at her lips and a playful look in her eyes. “We found kittens!” You smiled like an idiot again at the memory. “But the walkers were close so Daryl made them a tiny refuge of wood, it was amazing, that’s why we took longer, and...”

“Kittens!” Carol’s chuckle interrupted you and she shook her head. “And here I was thinking Daryl and you had stopped to have some quality time together...”

“What?!” You blinked in disbelieve, not sure if she was really suggesting what you were thinking.

“I think Rick thought the same when he heard your sad excuses and saw your guilty faces and that’s why he didn’t go harder on you.” Carol kept talking and you felt mortified it had been so obvious you were lying. “He knows that’s why Glenn and Maggie take longer on runs sometimes...”

“Well, it’s not the case!” Your voice went louder than you wanted, your cheeks blushing at her insinuations. “How could you think that...you know it’s not like that...” You lowered your voice again.

“Why, you seem to spend a lot of time together lately...and well, you have this look on your face sometimes when you are together...” Carol shrugged smirking.

“We also spend a lot of time with you and that doesn’t mean anything!” You groaned, pointedly ignoring her remark about the look that you might or might not have when you looked at Daryl.

“That’s cos none of you’d been brave enough to make a move on me yet.” Carol winked at you and you couldn’t help but snort a laugh, some of your tensions leaving you.

“We know you’re out of our league.” You nudged her shoulder with yours. You shouldn’t have taken her words so seriously, knowing she liked to tease and embarrass you sometimes.

Later that night, though, you found yourself thinking again and again about her words, wondering if you had reacted like that because maybe she had hit close home. You could deny it to everyone in your family, to yourself even, but you had begun to harbor feelings for the archer that you couldn’t strictly label as platonic, no matter if you tried.

They grew every day, with every run together, every shared guard duty, every conversation, no matter how much you tried to stomp on those blooming feelings, sure they wouldn’t do you any good. But they resisted, didn’t go away no matter how hard you tried.

Daryl was attractive, of course he was, but it was more than that. You admired him, how he’d been able to grow and become the person he was now, despite what the world had put him through since he was a kid. You trusted him completely and you loved his big heart, he was kind and compassionate, a genuinely good person in an awful world, you had seen it again today. He was loyal to your group no matter what, caring for all of you way more than for himself, always making sure you were okay and helping you in every way he could.

Your heart was starting to beat fast, fast, and you forced yourself and your mind to stop. Daryl was your friend, you were happy he appreciated you and felt comfortable with you. If he knew what was on your mind, he’d probably freak out, he might even close himself to you again, putting distance between you two, and that was something you couldn’t bear. So you were determined to sit on your feelings until they went away, to ignore them and cut off that silly crush before it could ruin your friendship.

You were about to give up on the idea of sleeping at all when you heard T-Dog alerting you of walkers approaching. You jumped on your feet and helped your family gather your scarce belongings, throwing them onto the vehicles to leave as fast as possible.

On the move again.

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