#watch me finish the final piece in like two months lol

[sodastarpop]

ayo!!

the boyies are in dresseses!!!!!!1!1

[ao-xingyume1987]

Ellis' Moving Castle

[lenoraslament]

Can you do one whee it's a threesome with mattheo, Tom and y/n and it is bdsm for the first time and they go ruff

Careful What You Wish For

Reader x threesome with Mattheo Riddle and Tom Riddle

Warnings: smut, 18+ Minors DNI!, bdsm, rough, oral (m receiving), fingering, dp, spanking, degradation, piv, anal, creampie.

Idk what demon possessed me when I wrote this but it’s pretty dirty so…beware? lol. Also I’m a little drunk. Also I’m sorry I forgot to do word count but it is long

“I want you both or not at all,” you said. Mattheo’s brows knitted together, his face was a wince. He had been infatuated with you for so long . Pined for you, maybe not your personality but certainly your body. Your mouth, your breasts. He couldn’t remember a day where he didn’t see you walking down the hall and try to imagine what was under the skirt that was always flirting with your thighs.

So he tried, and tried to get you to hook up with him. He approached you in the great hall, after quidditch games, in the library. Sure, you’d flirt back but always left him wanting. He wasn’t used to not getting his way and your resistance left him even more feral for a night with you.

Just another Saturday night of debauchery in the Slytherin common room. You were just drunk enough to give him a knowing grin when Mattheo sauntered his way over to you.

“God, you don’t know how badly I want you,” Mattheo muttered. His eyes slipping from your lips to your body. But his gaze wasn’t exactly what you were after. Thats not to say you weren’t attracted to Mattheo, I mean you had eyes. It was his big brother who made his way into your fantasies.

Tom riddle, godly handsome, aloof, cold. The only boy who wouldn’t give you the time of day if you begged. You watched him in the library, in his own world. What you wouldn’t give for a taste of what swam under his still waters.

So when Mattheo made his millionth pass at you, you were drunk enough to ask for the impossible

“I want you both or not at all”.

“Both?” Mattheo nearly choked on his drink, “my…Tom….at the same” he was about to say no. Hell no. But then you leaned forward and pressed your body against his. Your lips brushed up his neck to his ear.

“At the same time. However you want me,” your breathy voice tickled his ear, “however rough you like it”.

Hook. Line. And sinker.

Mattheo didn’t need anymore convincing. His rational thought was blinded by the throbbing need in his pants. He nearly growled, his hand on your waist as he sighed and finally said, “okay..,”.

With that he wasted no time to go to Tom. Tom was perched on a chair near the end of the party, he was sipping whiskey. Playing chess with Blaise. Tom appraised the anxious look on Mattheo’s face, the way he stood next to their game chewing on his lip trying to figure out how to approach it.

“What?” Tom asked curtly. When his usual obnoxiously confident brother began to stammer; Tom rolled his eyes.

Legilimens

That’s all it took. Tom’s dive into Mattheo’s mind, was intrusive. Months of Mattheo’s obsession. Tom knew who you were of course, he noticed you staring at him. He found you attractive enough but knowing his brothers obsession with you amused him. Both? You wanted both? Tom smirked at this. He would have never given you the credit to be such a little slut.

Tom dropped the spell as Mattheo winced and cursed.

“Ow fuck asshole,” Mattheo said rubbing the pinprick he felt in his temple. Tom was chuckling and finished his whiskey with a swig.

“Y/N huh?” Tom asked coolly as if he didn’t just see the whole thing played out inside of Mattheo’s mind. He nodded for a moment.

“Fine. Two conditions. I want her sober and you both listen to what I say,” Tom said not even looking up at him as he checked Blaise knocking another piece off the board.

Mattheo felt sheepish, he knew what he was asking for. He knew how Tom loved to torture him generally and how much knowing the girl he wanted, wanted his brother would play to Tom’s ego.

“Fine” he grumbled. Tom only nodded as Blaise groaned when Tom finished the game

“Tomorrow night. Go tell her”.

————————————————

You couldn’t believe Mattheo went for it. Or more surprisingly that Tom agreed. In the harsh light of morning, you felt nervous; nearly ashamed. When Mattheo had found you later that night at the party and told you the terms you were excited. Now there was a hot coal in your stomach.

Tom wanted you sober. Obedient.

It made you swallow and flush. All day you turned over the idea in your head like a stone. It was eight PM, when Mattheo knocked on your door.

“Ready?” He asked, he looked as nervous as you felt. Suddenly it got real and you nearly backed down. It felt like a dream as he led you down the hall to Tom’s private prefect room.

You had showered ahead of time and did you hair and makeup. You wore a sundress. When Tom answered the door he smirked appraising you. It was not lost on you that this may have been the first time you had his full attention.

He didn’t say hi, “you don’t look so brave now” he immediately mocked making your cheeks burn red. Mattheo walked in the room looking fidgety and sat on the bed.

“I…I’m fine…I’m ready” you muttered trying to muster a smile. Tom only kept smirking, his hand slowly cupped your jaw as he studied your face.

“What’s your safe word?” He asked, his eyes burning into yours. Eyebrow quirked with interest, you nearly trembled.

“I don’t need one” your attempt to be flirty.

Tom laughed as this, “nice try but believe me you will.” He squeezed your jaw a little.

“Don’t make me ask again,” his voice was still light and full of levity.

“Um…episky?” You nervously asked instead of stated. Tom nodded and walked over to Mattheo standing over him. His face dropped back into the usual stoic demeanor.

“You good?” Tom asked him, Mattheo looked over at you. How perfect and sexy you looked.

“Yea…good..”Mattheo said his nervousness was still there but he kept his eyes on the prize.

Tom patted him on the shoulder and made his way back to you. Like a switch was flicked his voice dropped, he was nearly sneering at you,

“So you’re the girl who’s got my little brother all keyed up?” Tom asked in a smooth voice. You opened your mouth to answer but nothing would come out. Five seconds later Tom’s hand landed on your cheek.

You gasped, the sting took you by surprise and if you had to be honest no one had ever hit you in your life. The startled whine only made Tom grin.

“I asked you a question.” He said in a warning tone. Once again you were stunned into silence as another heavy hand met the other side of your face in a firm slap.

“Ah, not so mouthy now. Apparently you only know how to use your words when asking for cock” Tom chuckled as he held your jaw now roughly.

Your eyes were tearing up, your mouth open slightly parted in surprise.

“Such a greedy little slut, Mattheo wasn’t enough to satisfy your needs?” He asked making Mattheo grimace in his seat as he watched the exchange. Tom’s hand slid down to pull you in by your throat. His lips moved to your ear so he could whisper out of earshot.

“Think you can handle me doll? You’re not even worthy to suck my dick. So why don’t you prove me you can be a good slut and maybe I’ll consider touching you” he hissed in your ear.

If you were flustered before, you were shocked now. You could barely speak as you struggled to keep from crying. His words hurt, his firm was grip and worst of all he was making you absolutely fucking soaked.

“What did I say about answering me?” He muttered as he pulled you back harshly to look at your face.

“Yes…yes sir,” you managed to squeak out. Tom nodded and shoved you away making you stumble.

“Get on your knees…crawl” Tom said gesturing over to wear Mattheo is sitting. Like a puppet on strings you dropped down to the floor. Mattheo’s nerves were morphed into lust as he watched you crawl over to him slowly. When you reached him, you sat up on the floor. He was sitting on the chair at Tom’s desk, your hands on his knees.

Suddenly you understood that Tom was in charge, you turned back to him. Tom nodded in approval noticing your submission.

“Suck his cock” Tom said. Mattheo sighed softly feeling your fingers working at this pants. He helped you until they were pooled at his feet. His cock was impossibly hard, dripping already.

Mattheo’s hand was gently stroking your red cheek as you licked the tip. Slowly you enveloped the head, letting him fill your mouth. He moaned loudly, eyes fluttering back as you bobbed you head halfway down. Tom stood watching with mild interest.

Tom made his way over, hand threaded in your hair softly at first. Then it balled into a fist and you could feel his tug guiding your movements.

“Surely you can do better than that Y/N” Tom said as he pushed your head down on Mattheo’s cock. You gagged loudly, the thickness filling your mouth and hitting your throat. Mattheo moaned louder as you deepthroated him.

Tom was unrelenting as tears ran down your face, mixing with your saliva. Mattheo began to reach for Tom’s wrist to take it easy on you but Tom gave him a warning look. It didn’t take much else for him to began to move his hips to match your movements, he could help it. Your warm mouth felt so good. As his moans increased, you gagged harder; Tom noticed Mattheo begin to get too close and pulled you off by hair.

You felt your back hit the floor. Mattheo was breathless, gasping in the chair. You looked up to see Tom standing over you, same smirk. It was humiliating, your lips were swollen, back of your head sore from hair pulling and cheeks red. You had the urge to say your safe word until Tom stooped down and held your cheek.

“Good girl,” he said and kissed you roughly. The kiss made you feel light headed, aroused. He bit your lip softly and flicked his tongue against yours. Then he stood leaving you wanting on the floor. Mattheo was undressing.

“Come stand in front of the bed,” Tom said. You got to your feet still in a daze and fully clothed.

“Undress her,” Tom said to Mattheo. Mattheo took no time at all. As soon as he reached you, his hands found purchase on your waist. His kiss was hungrier than Tom’s, needier. You let yourself get lost in it as he slid your dress down to the floor. Hands searching, stroking. He cupped your breasts softly before unlatching your bra. His lips went for your neck but Tom cut in.

“I said undress her. Stop touching her she hasn’t earned it,” he said. Mattheo groaned but backed off. His eyes hungry on you as he knelt and pulled down your panties.

“Move.” Tom said as Mattheo sat on the bed frustrated. Tom didn’t wasn’t any time to cup your pussy. Two fingers sliding into your folds so quickly it made you moan loudly.

“Mm dripping wet and we’ve barely even touched you,” he said as he slid them inside of you. They crooked and found that spongy area making your eyes instantly roll back.

“Pathetic,” he said and pulled them out. You whined and looked up at him, “please” you muttered. Tom only chuckled and shook his head at you.

“How many times has my brother asked you out in the past month?” Tom asked. The question struck you as funny but the look on his face was clearly not joking.

“Um….i don’t know…” you began but the movement of Tom’s hand made you quickly change your tune, “eight….eight times..sir”.

Tom nodded and undid his tie. He placed it around your wrists binding them together. He spun you around and making you face Mattheo were he still sat on the bed. Tom positioned you like a doll. Your tied hands looped around Mattheo’s neck and resting on his shoulders. Slightly bent over as you and Mattheo made eye contact. He leaned over and brushed your lips reassuringly with his, earning a soft smile from you

“Count.” Tom said before you felt his hand land on your ass hard. You cried out, the sting leaving you breathless. Your eyes met Mattheo’s, the pain made your head spin. When his eyes met yours, you felt lust overtake you. His lips found yours in a sloppy kiss.

“One.”

Tom’s hand caressed your ass before another rang out making you whine.

“Two.”

Mattheo’s breath shuddered. His face nuzzled against yours as you winced from another slap.

“Three”.

Tom groaned softly, your obedience making him show his first signarousal of the evening. His hand slid between your legs. Two fingers sliding inside you making you whimper softly. Tom’s voice was low and soft, it barely registered but the words still made the hair on the back of your neck stand up.

“Such a good girl” he said as he delivered another firm spank.

“Four!” Your voice was louder and higher. Full of desperation.

Tom’s eyes rose from your reddened bottom to meet Mattheo’s heavy lidded glare that had been locked on your face.

“You can touch her now,” Tom said to him. Mattheo’s hands moved immediately to your breasts to softly cup and flick your nipples. You gasped and whined. His mouth greedily licking and sucking your neck.

“I still want to hear her count,” Tom commanded as he delivered another blow.

“Fi-five,” you found Mattheo’s mouth to kiss him back tongues fighting for dominance. His hand slid down your stomach to softly stroke your clit. The touch was lost from the vibration of another hit making your hips jump forward.

You pulled away from Mattheo’s mouth quickly, “Six”.

As you braced for another slap, Mattheo’s fingers thrummed over your clit again. The sensitive bundle of nerves feeling puffy and swollen from need. Another hit barely registered as the pleasure overtook your body.

“Seven” you whispered. Tom suddenly jerked your head back by your hair, “don’t get greedy”. He said sternly.

The last spank was so hard you groaned, but you made sure he could hear you. Mattheo’s fingers were moving over your nub slick with arousal.

“EIGHT,” you cried. Tom’s fingers slid into your cunt from behind. He immediately found the spot inside of you that made your eyes roll back. Relentlessly he punched his digits into it. Mattheo’s fingers worked in union, making you nearly drool onto his lap. Your hips were keening against the movement, your moans were loud and rhythmic.

Tom pulled your head back roughly, “don’t even think about coming without asking”.

“Can I come sir please?”

“Don’t ask me, ask Mattheo” Tom said as his free hand wrapped around your neck.

“Matty, can I come? Please oh fuck can I come?” You were so close your legs were shaking.

Mattheo kept working his fingers over your clit, Tom’s slender fingers deep inside of you as he choked you roughly. Mattheo kissed you deeply, his tongue sliding over yours as your eyes rolled back.

“Come for me pretty girl.” Mattheo said. You let out a nearly guttural noise, your moans rhythmic and heavy. You could feel your cunt squeezing Tom’s fingers making him hum in approval.

“There we go, good slut. Come for us” Tom growled as his fingers didn’t show any sign of slowing. Mattheo’s fingers stilled so he wouldn’t overstimulate you.

“So pretty, so good for me, let go beautiful” Mattheo said as his lips brushed over your whiney cries. Of course, Tom wasn’t easy on you, his fingers relentless moving even faster making the coil in your snap even harder. You squirted onto his fingers as you let out a breathy scream.

“Look how you’re soaking me, what a needy girl, so sensitive” Tom mocked you as Mattheo only caressed your face watching your slack jawed expression with a mix of adoration and amusement.

Tom’s fingers left you, if it wasn’t for your still bound wrists around Mattheo’s neck you would have crumbled to the floor. Mattheo helped steady you, he kissed your neck softly and pulled you close.

“Doing okay?” He whispered in your ear with a smile. You were still gasping trying to come down from your high but you managed a soft yes.

Tom’s hand wrapped around the tie pulling you by your bound wrists off of Mattheo and onto the bed.

“I think you finally earned the right to be used”, Tom said condescendingly as he unbuttoned his shirt.

You watched as Tom began to slowly undress beside the bed. Mattheo was feral, no longer concerned about Tom’s directions or commands. He was on you in bed, pulling your thighs to wrap around his waist. Hitching you into position, his hand moved to pull your face away from watching Tom.

“Ready?” Mattheo asked softly, your face was smeary with bliss as you nodded. You felt the binds on your wrist being attached to the bed post as Mattheo thrusted in bottoming you out immediately. You mewled and arched your back, his hungry movements in time with his loud moans.

“Ah fuck you feel so good princess, look at you taking my cock so well,” he praised you as he thrusted slowly but deeply. Your breasts jiggled and his fingers dug into your waist.

Tom finished securing your binds, his hand finding you jaw pulling it away from Mattheo’s mouth.

“Open,” he said in a husky voice. You eagerly made room for him to stuff his cock into your throat. He was slightly bigger than Mattheo and immediately your eyes water. Tom thrusted into your mouth, at an untethered pace. Your gags and whines mixed as he clung onto your hair guiding the movements.

Mattheo kept rocking his hips into yours, eager to finish after being interrupted earlier. Tom’s head was thrown back, he looked lost in the moment for once. The pleasure abundant, but still Tom managed to choke out, “Not yet,” to Mattheo. Who groaned and cursed reluctantly pulling out of you leaving you on the precipice of a ruined orgasm.

Both of them pulled away from your body twitching with need, you gasped in the air that was now available to you.

“Knees,” Tom said his own panting breath cutting into his usual stern tone. It was hard to do with tied wrists but you managed to get on your knees in the bed. Tom slid himself under you until you were straddling him.

He wasted no time to fill you, pushing your hips down. Mattheo watched with a burn of jealousy as you bounced on Tom’s cock eagerly. Tom kept one hand on your throat as he let out a string of words.

“That’s right, ride my cock like the slut you are. So fucking needy for it, stupid whore.” He muttered as he cursed, his hips snapping to meet yours. You felt the heady lightness fill you as he cut off your airway. You could hear Tom say something to Mattheo but it was garbled to you.

Had you been in a more present state of mind you would have heard Tom say to Mattheo.

“What are you waiting for? She has two holes,” Tom said vulgarly. Mattheo climbed onto the bed, lining up. This time he didn’t completely listen to Tom, he reached over to move his wrist away from your throat so you could pay attention to his question.

“Is this okay?” Mattheo asked you in your ear as he hovered at your tight pink hole. You nodded eagerly, still needing release. Never in a million years would you have thought you wanted something like this but all of your inhibitions flew out the window long ago.

Mattheo spit on his hand lubricating himself before sliding in slowly. The feeling of being filled by both of them overwhelmed you. Your eyes rolled back as you felt your body stretch. Your mouth dropped open and you let out a high pitch whine.

Tom groaned feeling you get tighter, Mattheo was whimpering into your shoulder as he thrusted into your tight ass. Both of them muttering praise to you as they moved inside of you.

“Fucking good girl”

“Taking us so well”.

“So pretty when we use you like this”.

You could barely register who said what as they both rocked into you. The tightness in your hips and cunt spasmed and your entire body stiffened as you came. Hard. They both moaned in approval as they felt your contractions squeezing both of them.

“Let go, let go come on”

“There you go, fuck, so sexy when you come”

“Take it, take it beautiful”.

Then you felt heat. Both of them filling you as a chorus of pants and moans filled the room. You collapsed onto the bed breathless. Mattheo’s strong arms pulling you close. You shuddered and held onto him tight while he whispered praises and sweet nothings. Tom took a moment to compose himself before sitting up and getting dressed leaving you and Mattheo the privacy to do aftercare.

When you finally reached the ground, Mattheo grinned at you.

“How do you feel?” He asked softly stroking a hair from your face.

“Wrecked but amazing” you giggle and bury your face in his chest.

“Be careful what you wish for” he said grinning.

[slut4thebroken]

Teacher’s Pet

��─ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Pairing | Jonathan Crane x reader

Summary | After months of trying to earn your professor’s praise, he finally gives you an opportunity to prove you deserve it.

Warnings | Smut, dub con, blackmail, coercion, humiliation, anal, bondage, praise, creampie, degradation, inappropriate use of fear toxin.

Words | 6.2 k

Notes | Started this a million years ago. Finally got the motivation to finish it cause of @hllywdwhre ‘s fic that I proofread lol. Also ty to the post that gave me the fear toxin idea 🙏🏻

Ao3 link | <3

Masterlist

In honor of the one year anniversary since the start of my Cillian hyperfixation <3

Dr. Crane was one of the most strict and unforgiving professors at Gotham University. He graded harshly, didn’t tolerate late or incomplete work, and no one would ever dare be late— if they were, they just wouldn’t show up because an absence was better than his response to tardiness. He didn’t have any favorite students, just some that he tolerated slightly more than the rest. That was what you hated the most. 

You’ve always been the favorite student for every single teacher you’ve had, whether they said it out loud or not. After the first couple of weeks, you figured he’d just be harder to crack than the rest. But after almost two months, you were starting to get frustrated. Nothing you did ever earned you any sort of praise. You were always early, always the first to turn in assignments, participated in class, paid attention— you were the perfect student. But he never seemed to recognize that. What made you snap was when he gave you a B on your latest essay. 

Lightly knocking on his office door, you tried to control your nerves and push down the nausea— You’ve never had to talk with a teacher about a grade before…

“Come in.” He called out. So you opened the door and hesitantly stepped inside. He glanced at you quickly, then did a double take once he realized it was you. “Close the door.” He said, resuming what he was doing. You took in a quiet, deep breath and closed the door before walking over and sitting on the chair across from his desk. 

“I’m assuming this is about your essay?” He asked, not even looking up from his work. 

“Yes.. You gave me a B, I was hoping to understand why.” You said tentatively. 

“Did you not read my notes?” Of course you did. But it still didn’t make any sense. 

“No, I did, but-” He finally looked up at you with a sigh. 

“Then you should understand why I gave you that grade.”

“This essay was practically perfect.” You argued, holding up the stapled together pieces of paper, marked up with red ink. 

“Clearly not if you got a B.” He raised his brows and you clenched your jaw, trying not to get too upset or emotional.

“Dr. Crane, I’ve aced every single test and assignment, I’d hardly say this is a fair grade.” You frowned. 

“Your argument was weak and biased.” Your lips parted in shock at the bluntness of his criticism. “And your previous assignments have no impact on my grading. If you’d like them to though, I’d be more than willing to grade them again to see if I missed anything.” 

“It- it wasn’t… I spent weeks on this.” 

“And yet… You still weren’t good enough for an A.” He said, making your stomach churn. Especially because he didn’t even say ‘your essay’ he just said ‘you.’ Looking down at the papers in your hands, you scanned them quickly as if it would magically give you the answer. “Review my notes for the next essay. Maybe you’ll do better.” 

“What is your problem with me?” You snapped, looking up at him again, watching his brows raise slightly. “Have I done something to offend you?” 

“I don’t tolerate entitled students who are used to being the teacher's pet. Whatever previous, unearned success and praise you're used to receiving is of no concern to me. It is not my fault if you came into this class expecting to be treated differently for doing the same thing as every other student.” 

“I- I’m not.. entitled. I just like my work and effort to be appreciated and not.. given a B.” 

“You want me to tell you that you’re such a good girl, turning in everything on time— as expected— and doing well on your assignments— as expected.” The faux praise, as well as the condescension that laced his voice, made your cheeks heat up instantly. 

“No, but,” 

“Then I think we’re done here.” 

The next day, you almost considered not going to class, but you’ve never had an absence on your record and you’re not about to start now. 

“We’re going to deviate from the lesson plan a little and talk about something else today; fear. Specifically, fear of rejection.” Your mouth dropped open at his words and if you had any doubts that this was because of your previous conversation, they quickly disappeared when he made eye contact with you.  

“There are a few different causes, can anyone give me an example?” This would’ve been the time where you raised your hand. But that apparently wasn’t necessary because he called on you anyway, making you freeze. 

“Um, I— I’m not sure.” You said nervously, sinking back into your chair a little. 

“There’s a perfect example right there; anxiety and social comparison. Too anxious and insecure to answer a simple question. Who else can give an example?” You stared at him with wide eyes that quickly started burning with tears. Now you felt even more stupid than you would’ve, had you just answered him and potentially gotten it wrong.

Class dragged on slowly. He talked more about causes, what it looks like, how it affects performance— especially in school— and various treatments. 

You couldn’t have been more relieved when he finally dismissed the class. You rushed to pack your things and stood up, quickly making your way to the exit. 

When he called your name though, you froze, praying you heard him wrong. “Stay back for a moment.” Your peers gave you sympathetic looks as you turned around and slowly made your way back over to his desk. 

“Yes, professor?” You asked, voice strained. 

“I hope you found today's lesson helpful.” You gritted your teeth and gave him a dry smile. 

“It was… inspiring, Dr. Crane.” You said plainly, trying to control your tone. His expression was only becoming more and more amused. 

“I’m glad. Though I didn’t see you taking notes.” That made you falter. 

“I- I was,”

“Great. Let me see them.” You looked away from him and shifted your weight awkwardly. 

“See them?” 

“Did you not understand?” Your face flushed with anger and embarrassment at his patronizing tone. 

“I did. I just wasn’t aware that notes were something you needed to see.” 

“If a student isn’t paying attention for the entirety of my class then, yes, notes are something I need to see.” You swallowed thickly, trying to come up with a response, and he watched you intently as he waited.  

“Look, professor, you’ve made your point, okay? I don’t think you need to continue humiliating me.” You said quietly, not looking at him. He let out a heavy breath through his nose and you watched in your peripheral vision as he took off his glasses, setting them down. He slowly rounded the desk and you couldn’t help it when you instinctively took a step back. 

“That’s a shame. I had hoped this lecture would’ve been helpful, but since you clearly weren’t paying attention, maybe I need to try another method.” 

“I- I was paying attention…” You muttered, keeping your head down. 

“Really? Then why don’t you tell me some of the ways one can overcome a fear of rejection.” He leaned back on his desk and crossed his arms over his chest. The feeling of his eyes on you almost made you shiver and you took a quiet, deep breath before lifting your head to look at him again. 

This is an easy enough question. You can probably figure out the answer if you just use critical thinking since he was correct about you not paying attention. 

“Um… cognitive behavioral therapy?” You waited and when he didn’t out right humiliate you, you assumed that was a right answer and continued. “Exposure therapy. Self esteem enhancement… Emotion regulation?” 

“Anything else?” 

“…You said “some.’” You muttered, briefly looking away from him again. 

“I did, didn’t I?” His tone made it clear that he didn’t care about what he previously said. 

“Um, I- I’m not sure…” 

“Feel free to use your notes.” 

Fuck. 

When you looked up and saw the almost smug expression on his face, you finally snapped. “I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry that for one day, I couldn’t pay attention after you humiliated me in front of the entire class.” You spat, clenching your jaw as soon as you finished speaking. The longer he stayed silent, the more uncomfortable you became under his gaze, making you look away from him awkwardly. 

“Tell me why this shouldn’t affect your grade.” You knew his question was rhetorical, but you still tried to defend yourself. 

“Dr. Crane,” You started, but he raised his brows, silently warning you to not talk back. 

“I’ll see you later today during my office hours.” He said as he packed up his belongings. 

“But,” 

“Five pm.” He didn’t let you continue as he walked toward the door. All you could do was stand there and watch him leave. 

At 4:30 you paced around your dorm, debating what to do. At 4:35 you decided not to go. At 4:40 you changed your mind. At 4:50 you were pacing outside his office. At 4:55 you finally knocked, feeling like you could throw up at any second. He called out for you to enter, so you hesitantly opened the door and stepped inside. 

“Close the door and sit down.” He didn’t even look up from what he was working on. You closed the door quietly, then made your way over to the chair in front of his desk. You tried to sit there patiently, but he wasn’t saying anything. Your leg bounced incessantly as you picked at your cuticles, over thinking more and more with each tortuous second that dragged on. 

“Professor?” You finally asked. 

“You’re early. I told you to come at five and I need to finish this.” He still didn’t look up from whatever “this” was and you were quickly growing angrier. 

Was this some kind of mind fuck? Making you sit here, stewing in nerves that were only getting worse? You weren’t sure how much time had passed because you didn’t want to check your phone and give him another opportunity to chastise you. But after a while, he finally sighed and gathered the papers, setting them in a pile on the side of his desk. 

You forced yourself to stop bouncing your leg and place your palms flat on your thighs to keep from fidgeting, trying to exude confidence you were severely lacking. 

“I’ll admit, I’ve been struggling to decide what I should do with you.” Immediately your stomach churned, getting even more anxious. “I could have you removed from my class, but that would be a lot of paperwork.”

“Professor,” 

“I’m speaking.” He said harshly, making your mouth immediately close. “However, that does mean I’ll have to put up with this for another few months… So the paperwork might be worth the hassle.” You tried not to cry at the thought. You need this class to graduate— getting dropped from it will set you back a semester unless you add another course to your already heavy schedule for next semester. You waited, not sure if he was done talking or not. After another few seconds you decided to try again. 

“Please…” You said hesitantly, waiting for him to snap at you again. When he didn’t, you continued. “Please don’t drop me, professor. I need this class to graduate.” He stayed silent, eyes dragging over your body as you did your best not to squirm. He still hasn’t said anything… Is he going to drop you anyway? With tears in your eyes, you tried again, “Please… Please I- I’ll leave you alone— I won’t bother you about grades anymore, I swear, just please don’t drop me.” You all but whimpered, feeling even more pathetic now. 

He sighed and took off his glasses, then set them on his desk before leaning back in his chair a little, still studying you. 

“I’d still have to put up with you in class as well though.” 

“Please! I’ll sit in the back and not talk— I’ll do anything, just please don’t drop me.” You cried.

“Anything?” You stiffened a little at the dark expression that suddenly took over his face. Would you really do anything? You wouldn’t mind fucking him if that’s what he’s implying— despite his off putting personality, you’ve always been attracted to him.  

“Y-yes?” You said, unsure.  

“That didn’t sound very convincing and I’m not going to force you so I’ll just go through with the drop request,”

“No! I will— I’ll do anything… Please.” He continued studying you, probably trying to gauge if you were telling the truth or not. 

“Fine. We’ll call it an internship of sorts. You’ll come with me to Arkham Asylum every Friday and help me in whatever way I may need— no questions asked.” 

“I- I don’t know if I’m qualified for that.” 

“Good thing it’s not an actual internship then.” He sneered, the patronizing tone making you blush. 

“What will you have me do?” You asked quietly. 

“It’ll be easier to just show you instead. Give me your essay and after Friday if I’m satisfied with your performance, I’ll change the grade.” Your heart practically skipped a beat— all you have to do is go to Arkham with him for a day and you’ll get an A? You’d be stupid to say no. So you retrieved your essay from your bag and handed it to him. “Good. Six pm, do not be late. I’ll meet you in the main lobby to take you to my office.” He said sternly. 

Since you left his office, your heart has been pounding. You weren’t sure what to wear so you just decided on a skirt and blouse that were professional, but still mostly casual. After that, there wasn’t much else you could do. You were too anxious to focus on literally anything so you just sat at home, overthinking. Friday rolled around and you left at five, just in case anything happened, and arrived at 5:25. So you sat in your car, waiting anxiously and watching the clock on the dashboard. You were too scared to even listen to music. At 5:55 you decided to go in, worst case you’d just have to wait five minutes for him, but you figured it’d be better to be early— even after what happened during his office hours. 

It was only a minute before six when he showed up. The second he saw you, he gestured for you to follow, so you trailed after him on wobbly legs. When you arrived in his office, he closed the door and told you to sit in the chair across from him as he sat behind the desk. 

“I want to make sure that we’re on the same page and I have your consent for anything that happens here.” The way he worded that made you nervous, but you chalked it up to the fact that you were already overcome with anxiety.

“Yes.” You tried to sound sure of yourself, but you were having doubts. What would he make you do? Would it really be worth a better grade?

“Good. Take this.” He picked up a small paper cup from his desk with one pill inside and handed it to you. 

“…Why?”

“There are certain aerosol drugs that are administered to patients sometimes. That will keep them from affecting you.” He explained calmly, easing your nerves a bit. So you took it from him and swallowed it, waiting for what was next. “Follow me.” He stood up again, this time holding a briefcase, and you followed him out of his office. He led you down some hallways before stopping outside of a door and unlocking it, gesturing for you to walk in. 

There was a small table in the corner and two exam chairs with restraints on them, one of which had stirrups. Other than that the room was bare. The door closed loudly, making you jump and turn around. 

“Sit.” He ordered, walking over to the table and setting the briefcase down before walking toward you. 

“Why?” You asked skeptically. He just stood patiently and watched you. You suddenly got hit with a wave of dizziness and stumbled to the chair to sit down. The dizziness quickly turned into exhaustion and you could barely keep your eyes open. When you started falling forward, he quickly moved closer to catch you, then leaned you back against the chair. 

Your head hurt like hell and you forced your eyes open to find that you were now laying on the other exam chair, thankfully not with your legs in the stirrups, but with the restraints on your wrists. You don’t even remember falling asleep. 

“The effects should wear off soon. I apologize for using that, but I figured you wouldn’t willingly let me restrain you and I didn’t feel like fighting you.” 

“What… what was that?” You asked through a breath. You could slowly feel yourself getting less and less foggy. 

“A drug.” He said, in the most annoyed and patronizing tone you’ve heard from him so far. 

“Why?” You whimpered, closing your eyes again because they still felt so heavy. 

“If you’re going to ask stupid questions then I’m just going to gag you. I already answered that.” You heard some rustling noises and his footsteps, then a hand was running along your cheek, startling you and making you open your eyes. “You remember our agreement?” You nodded hesitantly. It felt like your heart was about to beat out of your chest with how hard and fast it was pounding. “Be a good little girl and if I’m satisfied, I won’t drop you. I might even change the grade of your essay.” You didn’t need the reminder, but the way he said the first part was making your stomach flutter. 

“I have to say,” he removed his hand from your cheek and moved down to place it on your leg, just above your knee, “I prefer the sluttier skirts you wear to class than this.” He teased the hem of your skirt with his fingers, making you tremble. “Next week wear something shorter. And a more flattering top.” You figured by ‘more flattering’ what he really meant was more revealing. All you could do to respond was nod. 

“Good. Let’s begin.” 

He reached for the zipper of your skirt on your hip, making you stiffen. 

“What the hell are you doing?” You asked, beginning to panic again, and he paused with a sigh. 

“If you don’t consent, that’s fine… There is still the matter of your seat in my class.” He said coyly. “If you want me to let you go, just say that. I’ll fill out the paperwork first thing Monday morning.” 

“No,” You choked out. “No.. please.” You felt like you were on the verge of a panic attack. He shushed you softly, staring at you with a teasing glint in his eyes. 

“Relax. If you consent to this, you’ll keep your seat in my class. That’s what you want, isn’t it?” You nodded, looking up at him with teary eyes. “Good girl… Now be quiet and let me do this.” His tone was significantly darker and all you could do was tremble as he unzipped your skirt, then pulled it down your body before discarding it on the floor. 

“I’ve been working on a new form of a drug.” You squeezed your eyes shut and let out a strangled whimper when he grabbed your leg and placed it in the stirrup, then used the restraints to keep it in place. “We’re going to try it together.” He grinned wolfishly and did the same to your other leg. 

You heard his footsteps as he walked across the room for something, then back over to you, now wearing a latex glove on his right hand, holding a small bottle in the other. 

“Remember, you can withdraw consent at any time…” You couldn’t though. Because you would be dropped from his class and set back months. 

His hand landed on your thigh, making you jump a little, and he started slowly dragging it up. Once he was close enough, he brushed his thumb over your clothed mound, forcing a quiet sob from you.  

“You probably thought this was going to go in a very different direction, didn’t you?” He asked teasingly, making you blush. Truthfully, you didn’t put much thought into your undergarments because you were too busy worrying about your actual clothes and what he was going to make you do. You cried out when he suddenly ripped the lace off your body, feeling the burn of the fabric pulling too hard against your skin. “Ready?” He asked, almost eagerly. 

You saw now that the bottle was a clear liquid and when he squirted it onto his fingers, you assumed it was lube. As soon as his finger brushed your asshole, you stiffened. 

“Wait!” You rushed out, chest heaving as your heart pounded in your chest. “I- I’ve never…” 

“You’ve never done anal?” You almost thought he was going to give you sympathy. “Good.” You couldn’t even get another word out before he was pushing a finger in, making you tense up as you whimpered in discomfort. “Tell me when you start to feel it.” 

“Feel what?” You said through a breath, trying to relax around the intrusion. Even though it wasn’t as bad as you were expecting, your heart was pounding even harder and faster in your chest, and your breathing grew ragged. “Dr. Crane,” You whimpered, suddenly a million times more anxious than only a moment ago. 

“Already?” He checked his watch, “That was fast. Tell me what you’re feeling.”

“Anxious.” You said quickly, letting out a strangled whimper when he forced another finger inside. “M-my heart is pounding and it feels hard to breathe.” 

“That’s good… Anything else?” 

“My hands are clammy… and it feels like I'm sweating a little.” 

“No visual or auditory hallucinations?” 

“What?” You choked out, eyes widening. “W-why would I have that??”

“The drug we’re testing is my fear toxin. It’s a hallucinogenic that targets the amygdala and releases stress hormones, causing a fear response in the brain.” He explained, only making you feel worse. “So far I’ve tested it two ways; administered intravenously and in aerosol form.” 

“I don’t understand..” You said quietly, trying to calm your breathing a little. He let out an exaggerated sigh and forced a third finger inside you. 

“I guess I should really expect you to.” He almost sounded.. disappointed. The realization made the twist in your stomach even worse. “Let me dumb it down for you. In its most potent form, it causes visual and auditory hallucinations of the subject’s worst fear.” If you weren’t currently on the verge of a panic attack with three fingers in your ass, you probably would’ve rolled your eyes at his tone. 

“Now I’m testing it via rectal administration. The concentration is about the same, but the effects shouldn’t be as strong. At least, that’s my theory.” His fingers continued fucking you slowly, occassionally spreading apart to open you up more. Despite the amount of anxiety you were currently feeling, you could just barely feel your growing arousal.  

“W-why would you want the drug in this form?” You asked, gasping for air between words. 

“I’m a doctor. Why wouldn’t I experiment?” He asked rhetorically. You bit your lip and squeezed your eyes shut, trying to focus on the anxiety rather than the arousal, but it was only becoming more difficult. A choked moan escaped you when he suddenly dragged a bare finger through your folds, spreading the evidence of your arousal. “Are you enjoying this?” His voice sounded unnervingly clinical. 

In response, you bit down harder on your lip and shook your head, denying it. You could practically feel his eyes on you, studying you closely. 

“I knew you’d be perfect for this.” He suddenly said, and you bit back a moan because he almost sounded proud. “You’re just pathetic enough and desperate for my approval to willingly become my little lab rat, and now look at you… Leaking onto my hand as I finger your ass.” He chuckled wryly. A dark blush took over your face and you whined quietly, but the flutter in your stomach was unmistakable. “I bet you want my cock also… Don’t you?” 

You let out a choked sob and turned your head, trying uselessly to hide yourself. When he suddenly pulled his fingers out, you whimpered quietly at the sudden loss. 

“Look at me.” He demanded, in a tone that left no room for argument. As if you were in a trance, you turned to face him and opened your eyes. “You want to keep your seat in my class?” He removed the glove and tossed it aside, then worked on unbuckling his belt and opening his pants. 

“Yes.” You whispered shakily. 

“And you’re willing to let me fuck your ass to ensure that happens?” He pulled his already half hard cock out and started stroking slowly as you gaped at it. How was that supposed to fit inside you?

“I- I’ve never..”

“It’s a yes or no question.” He sighed impatiently. “I fuck your ass or you leave and I fill out the form Monday morning.” 

“I… I’m scared.” You whimpered, looking nervously between his face and his cock. 

“That’s the whole point, darling.” Right. Because he was testing his fear toxin. You blushed furiously at the new pet name. “You have three seconds before I fuck you, then fill out the form anyway.” 

Your stomach dropped at the threat and when he raised his brows, you blurted out, “Yes.” Tears were brimming in your eyes and he stepped closer, but didn’t line up yet. He just used his free hand to gently rub your thigh. 

“Yes, what?” Your bottom lip began trembling when you realized what he wanted from you. “Say it. Beg your professor for it.”

“I- I want…” You let out a strangled sob and squeezed your eyes shut again, making his hand stop moving on your thigh to grip tightly in a silent warning. “I want you to fuck my ass… Please, Dr. Crane.” You whimpered. You’ve never felt more humiliated, but at the same time… you were only becoming more aroused. Your cunt ached to be filled, and your clit was practically throbbing.

“Good girl.” When you let out a choked moan at the sudden praise, he chuckled quietly. “Open your eyes. I want you to watch.” He demanded, lining up. Only after your eyes fluttered open, did he finally apply some pressure, entering you with little difficulty. 

“Fuck- You’re so tight.” He hissed, moving his hand to your other thigh and squeezing almost painfully. Your breath and all of your sounds were caught in your throat as he pushed in deeper, not stopping until his hips were flush with your ass. “Tell me how it feels.” He said breathily, not moving yet. 

“Big.” You whimpered, barely able to get the word out. 

“Does it hurt?” You shook your head, trying to steady your breathing, but the overwhelming feeling of being stretched as well as the anxiety still weighing heavy on your chest made it feel almost impossible. “You look like you’re on the verge of a panic attack.” He sounded uncharacteristically dulcet.

When he reached for your shirt and unbuttoned it to expose your bra, your breathing picked up even more as your heart started pounding even harder in your chest. He pulled your bra down below your breasts and groped you eagerly, showing little regard for your pleasure with his rough, almost painful touch. 

“Your heart’s beating so fast. Is my little lab rat still scared?” He cooed, very obviously mocking you. 

“Professor..” You whimpered, staring up at him with glossy eyes as you struggled to cope with all of the overwhelming feelings, both physically and emotionally. He shushed you softly and brought his hands back down to rub your thighs, trying to soothe you. 

“I’m going to fuck you, and you’re going to take it.” He said plainly. “You try to resist at all and I’ll keep fucking you until I finish, then you won’t have to bother showing up to class on Monday. Do you understand?” 

You nodded reluctantly and he moved his hands to grip the tops of your thighs. He slowly dragged his hips back, then forward again, forcing you to feel every inch of his cock stretching you open. It didn’t… hurt. But it definitely wasn’t the most pleasurable thing you’ve ever experienced. 

When he suddenly sped up, you cried out and squeezed your eyes shut, trying to focus on taking deep breaths. He was grunting and moaning quietly with each thrust, clearly enjoying this far more than you, and you couldn’t help but open your eyes again to watch him. His grip tightened on your thighs, making you whimper, and you watched his mouth fall open in a silent moan as he closed his eyes. 

“Fuck…” He said breathily, letting out a low groan before opening his eyes again. “I didn’t account for transdermal administration” He almost sounded amused again, but you could barely focus on his words. “The effects are far less than what you’re feeling, I’d assume. It almost feels like adrenaline, rather than fear. Next time we’ll try it intravaginally to see if your reaction is the same or more like mine.” 

You almost forgot that this wasn’t a one and done. You have to let your professor do what he wants with you every week for the rest of the semester…

“And I think I’ll try the other forms of delivery on you as well. Not so much for an experiment… I just want to fuck you while you’re hallucinating your greatest fears.” His lips curled up into a small smirk at the thought of that. “I can’t wait to hear you scream and cry for me.” He cooed, but his tone was far from comforting and your anxiety was only getting worse as he continued sharing his future plans for you. 

He started bucking into you rapidly and his sounds got louder, clearly getting closer to his release. You could even feel yourself just barely starting to inch toward the edge. Your moans caught his attention and a pleased look took over his face. 

“You like this, don’t you?” You let out a choked moan and bit your lip, trying to quiet your sounds. “It’s either that or misattribution of arousal... but that seems less likely.” Even though you knew his guess was correct, you were still going to convince yourself that it was misattribution of arousal instead because that was far less humiliating. When he started rubbing your clit, any chance you had of keeping quiet was gone instantly. His moans got louder too when your body tensed up, tightening around his cock. 

“Oh god— Dr. Crane, please.” You sobbed, feeling the arousal steadily taking over the anxiety that had settled in your stomach. 

“What do you want?” Now that he asked, you realized that you don’t even know what you want. You wanted the overwhelming anxiety and stretch to stop… but the thought of him pulling out and ending this almost brought tears of desperation to your eyes. His fingers sped up on your clit and your back arched off of the exam chair as an involuntary mewl escaped you. 

“Please let me come.” You whimpered pathetically and he let out a quiet chuckle in response to your brazenness. 

“How curious…” He murmured, gaze dragging all over your body. “I’ll admit, I figured some part of you would enjoy getting to please me, but I never imagined it’d be to this extent.” He said amusedly and your blush darkened in response. “You want to come?”

You were nodding eagerly before he could even finish. “Please.” 

“How about this— I'll raise the grade on your essay… or I’ll let you come.” You could see the barest hint of a smirk on his lips and you let out a frustrated sob, squeezing your eyes shut. “Well?”

“Dr. Crane…” You whimpered, bottom lip trembling as you tried not to cry. When you opened your eyes and stared up at him through the tears, his smirk widened. “Please..” 

“Should I choose for you?” 

“No…” You sobbed, looking away from him and biting your lip. The whole point of this was so he’d change the grade… You can’t give in to the pleasure now that you’re so close to finally getting what you came here for. “I- I want you to change my grade.” Your voice was barely a whisper. As soon as he got your answer, he removed his hand from your clit to grab the top of your thigh again, bucking into you rapidly as he chased his orgasm. 

“We’re going to have a lot of fun together, my little lab rat.” He was clearly satisfied with your choice and while part of you was almost crying from frustration… another part couldn’t help but revel in the fact that you pleased him, even if it was at the expense of your own pleasure. 

His hips snapped into you rapidly, the force of it almost pushing you up the exam chair, but the restraints on your legs kept you mostly in place. As he focused on his impending orgasm, you were practically mesmerized. He looked so… pretty. The pleasure in his expression was obvious and there was a faint blush on his cheeks. His normally pale blue eyes were darker as he took you in, studying every tiny reaction to his ministrations. 

When he suddenly pushed forward all the way and stayed there, you let out a whine of displeasure, knowing whatever pleasure you might’ve been feeling before was about to disappear. But the choked moan he let out as he closed his eyes made you almost forget all about it. His hips bucked forward sporadically as his cock twitched inside you with each rope of come that shot out, filling you up.  

Finally his sounds quieted into heavy breathing and his body went still. You waited anxiously for what was next, not sure what to expect. Opening his eyes again, he watched as he slowly dragged his hips back until his cock slipped free, forcing out a quiet hiss from him and a whimper from you at the sensitivity. 

“Push it out.” His voice was raspy and still thick with arousal. When you pushed his come out, he let out a low groan as he watched, bending down a little to get a closer look. “Good girl.” He cooed, making you whine as the words went straight to your cunt that was still aching with need. 

“You can remain here until the effects wear off. I want to see how long that takes.” He said, almost clinically, while checking his watch. Your eyes stayed on him as he tucked his cock back in his pants before collecting the lube and discarded glove. 

“Are you going to let me go?” Your voice was quiet and timid as submission still heavily clouded your mind. He looked over at you again, almost surprised by your voice. He glanced at the restraints before dragging his gaze all over your body for a moment. Finally, he smirked a little and went back to what he was doing. 

“Soon.” You sighed in response and stayed quiet. As you breathed deeply, trying to ignore the arousal still lingering in your stomach, you noticed that the anxious feeling was starting to subside a little. Your heart was still beating rapidly, but now it was hard to tell if it was from fear, adrenaline, or your own unsatisfied arousal. 

“I think it’s wearing off.” You told him and he checked his watch again. 

“What are you feeling?” He finally walked back over to you and stared at your face with an almost impressive level of professionalism, given the circumstances. 

“My heart is still pounding, but my breathing is better. And I don’t feel very nauseous either.” 

“Next week I want to test this again so I have a control group to compare these results to. It’ll be the same thing, but I won’t finger you for as long and I won’t fuck you until after it wears off.” He reached out and gently grabbed your chin, angling your face up to look at him as he stepped closer. “Of course… that’s assuming you still want to keep your spot in my class…” He trailed off, making the statement sound like a question instead. 

“I do.” You said quickly. Especially after this… you were desperate to stay enrolled in his class, but you were also— as much as you didn’t want to admit it— desperate for more after he gave you this small taste. 

“Good girl.” Your cheeks heated up instantly and he patted one with his hand before stepping back again. “Keep being my little lab rat and I have no doubt you’ll pass my class… maybe even with the grade you think you deserve.” 

[thrillered]

You know I Mountain Dew it for ya Pt.1 | Spencer Agnew x F! Reader |

You started working at Smosh when you were 26, a few years after graduating college. In your down time you wrote and produced your own music. Not that you had much down time, which wasn’t necessarily a problem, you loved your job, you got to work with some of the most creative, talented, and hilarious people you’ve ever met. After working on it for months you finally finished writing and producing your latest single "Espresso". The song blows up but Smosh fans begin to wonder if the song is about her dear friend and coworker Spencer Agnew.

*Every piece of this work is fictional. I was inspired by Sabrina Carpenters song Espresso when I noticed how much it could apply to Spencer lol, I did NOT write or produce Espresso*

-

-

-

-

Pt. 1: Lunch

“Hello everyone!! And welcome back to another TRY NOT TO LAUGH!” Amanda started, a burst of energy shooting throughout the sound stage. “Don’t worry, we’ve heard your requests so we grabbed Josh to do another MUSICAL episode!”

The cast cheered, you smiled as you stayed ducked behind them. “Because we’re doing a musical episode we invited the one and only Y/N to join us!” Courtney smiled, the group— Amanda, Courtney, Shayne, Angela, and Chanse— splitting to allow you to pop up. 

“Hey everyone!!” You began, the cast and crew clapping and giving whoops of encouragement. “Okay, okay, that’s enough you’re making me blush” you joked, hands behind your back and twisting your foot.

“Don’t stop blushing yet Y/N, we aren’t done talking about you.” Chanse added, shaking your shoulder. 

“We may or may not have had ulterior motives for this musical episode.” Amanda continued. “We invited Y/N to join us because she is releasing a new song!”

“AND because I'm hilariously witty, right?” you joked, causing shayne to roll his eyes. “But! Yes, the day this releases my new single “Espresso” will be premiering at 10 pm PST, like, everywhere you get your music! This song is super fun so I hope you guys like it!” The group cheered and with that the round began.  

With Amanda in the stool first you decided to bust out your Sarah Christ impression for a beautiful ballad about how no establishments will let you smoke in them anymore. Amanda was quick to laugh, almost spraying you in the face, followed by a compliment about how good your Sarah Christ was. 

The game went by smoothly, or as smoothly as a smosh video goes, everyone making each other laugh. During your time in the stool Shayne sang, or rather yelled, one of the lowest notes you'd ever heard. You stayed strong until he had been holding the same note for probably 10 seconds and his face turned the most pained shade of red. 

“Oh thank god!” He said, leaning his hands on his knees as he caught his breath, “I think I would have gone until I passed out” 

The final round ended and you began the outro with applause, “That was so much fun! I demand to be invited to every musical TNTL from now on. Thank you guys so much for watching, we hope you laughed just as much as we did.” 

“Don't forget to stream “Espresso” by Y/N!” Chanse added, resting his chin lightly on your shoulder. 

“It’s SO good! Like, I swear to god, it's been stuck in my head since I heard it for the first time.” Angela added.

“And with that we must part ways..” You began, in a deep melodic tone. “Don’t forget to like and subscribe and check out one of these two videos on your screen! Okay bye!” 

—-

That was two weeks ago and the Try Not To Laugh was being posted today. Your single premiering tonight.  

You sat at your desk, anxiously bouncing your heel as you tried to focus on the doc in front of you. You were supposed to meet with the games team later that afternoon to discuss possible creatives for some upcoming live streams. But the only thing you could focus on was what people would think about your song. 

You aren’t new to making music. In fact, you’ve been writing it since college and even performing it at some open mics and small gigs. But, most people who knew you online knew you from Smosh, not from your musical career. You had about 3,000 monthly listeners, which always astounded you, but this was the first time that you were releasing music that was being promoted by such a large online entity. 

“Keep shaking like that and you’ll cause an earthquake” You turned to see Spencer approaching your desk, hands in his pockets. You opened your mouth to respond but he cut you off, “Everyone is gonna love your song, Y/N. You don’t need to worry.”

“You haven't even heard it yet, Spence” You retorted, having made Spencer (Along with the rest of the cast, minus Angela) swear that he would wait until the release party to listen to it. You leaned your head on your chair to look at him as he sits next to you. 

“Yes, but, you would only put out something good so I trust that the song slaps.” Spencer tried to ease your running mind, only to get a huff in return. “Okay fine.” He began, standing and grabbing your phone while simultaneously turning off your monitor. 

“Wha- Hey” You started, trying to stop him but reacting too slowly.

“We are going out to lunch.” Spencer said, matter of factly.

“But what about the games meeting?” You asked.

“Got moved back an hour, don’t you look at the slack?” he chastised.

“Okay, but isn’t everyone going out tonight anyway?” You questioned, remembering that some of the cast and crew insisted on going out to celebrate your song release.

“Yeah but that’s everyone.” Spencer began, already walking towards the door, “Consider this your pre-game with your best friend.” 

“A pre-game at..” You looked at your barren wrist, “two pm?” 

“One: you’re not wearing a watch. And two: okay, a social pre-game. Plus, I’m not taking no for an answer, so come on and let your wonderful best friend buy you lunch.”  Begrudgingly you agreed. You walked side by side to Spencer's car, him opening the passenger door for you before rounding the front and getting in the drivers side. 

You smiled as you realized where he was taking you. He took you to a little hole-in-the-wall ramen place you two had discovered the year prior. It quickly became you and Spencer's own little spot. Neither of you ever went there without the other unless it meant stopping by to take it to go on the way to the other's apartment for a game or movie night. 

The older Japanese-American couple that owned the restaurant greeted you with warm smiles, “The usual?” the husband, Kenji, asked. 

You both nodded as you took a seat in one of the four small booths that lined the wall. The comforting smell of hot broth and spices calmed your anxious mind as you closed your eyes to take a deep inhale. You and Spencer talked about some upcoming shoots and how his Baldur's Gate 3 save was going as you waited for the food to arrive. 

 It didn’t take long for Emi, the other owner, to bring out your food, “You two are just the cutest, such a wonderful young couple.” She cooed.

“Oh we’re not-” 

“Thank you Mrs. Ito, that's so sweet, we really love coming here.” You cut Spencer off, smiling at the woman's kindness. She walked off, heading to grab an order for a driver. 

You turned to find Spencer staring at you with an eyebrow slightly raised. “What?” You asked, sipping on the steaming broth.

“So you think we’re the ‘most wonderful young couple’ huh?”

“Of course I do honeybun.” You jested, leaning over the table and tapping Spencer's cheek sarcastically. Resuming your meal as Spencer rolls his eyes.

The rest of your lunch is pleasant, filled with chatter about everything yet nothing. You tried to pay for your lunch when Mrs. Ito brings the bill but Spencer insists on covering it since he wanted to take you to lunch to distract you. 

“Thank you spence, I really needed that.” You said, grabbing Spencer’s hand in thanks as you walked back into the office. 

He squeezed your hand lightly, “I always know what you need.” And he did, Spencer was a consistent support system for you, had been since you began at Smosh. Beginning as an editor you worked with Spencer a lot. Your friendship blossomed over a shared love of movies and games. 

Over the years you got closer and closer until you were unequivocally best friends. Weekly movie nights, breakfast, lunch, and dinner dates solidified that years ago. Now there’s hardly any time you spend without each other. 

You walked hand in hand to the conference room, ready for the games meeting now that your head was clear.

[springdaybreaks]

lavender haze | l. jn.

➼summary: your subscribers anonymously agree that they could see the progress of you and jeno's relationship in your videos. / or in which jeno appears in your youtube videos.

➼tags: lee jeno x youtuber!reader; (kind of) domestic!jeno; fluff

➼warnings: grammar and tenses inconsistencies and intentional lowercase. unedited. no content warnings.

➼word count: 3,415

➼note: can't believe what started as a self indulgence ended up buried in my drafts for months lol. this fic is completely random and i had no idea why i even started writing this. but seeing this after finally coming back to my tumblr drafts just made me want to publish it. also i still suck at giving titles lmaoooo but i feel like the lyrics of lavender haze kinda fits them

iv. building new ikea furnitures for my new apartment (and giving up failing)

"hello everyone, welcome back to the channel! how are you guys? i hope all of you are doing well. so today i am going to build a cabinet which i am going to put under my tv! as you guys know if you watched my previous video, i recently moved to a new place and i am slowly but surely starting to make this place home."

you clapped your hands, "let's start, shall we?"

you opened the box and started getting all of the pieces out, lining it up on the floor near you. you were doing a pretty good job on your own until you started facing hurdles after hurdles. with a little bit more time, patience and effort, you managed to screw in the right screws and placing the pieces the correct way. but as you were near finishing the furniture, your concentration and patience were wearing thin. not to mention you haven't eaten yet.

"oh my god, is this stuck?" you grunted as you try to push in a piece to its place.

the piece didn't budge even a smidge. you sighed as you felt the strength leaving your arms. you lay down and stare at the ceiling hopelessly before turning your head to the camera.

"and here i thought assembling an ikea furniture was easy."

the door creaked open and you lift your head off the floor. you must've saw a familiar face as your face because you forced yourself to sit cross-legged again.

"you doing okay?" someone said behind the camera.

"this one got stuck and i don't have the strength to push it to its place or pull it out again," you pointed to the troublesome piece.

"you want some help?"

"will you help me? oh that would be amazing!"

there was some shuffling and the next second, there was your helper with his back to the camera.

"say hi to my subscribers!" your helper waved his hand but refused to turn around.

you throw your arms around his neck and pull him in for a hug, "this is my friend and my savior who kindly agreed to help me move my stuff here! he's a little shy, so we're gonna blur out his face for privacy."

"what are you having troubles with?" he asked.

you pointed to the troublesome piece and started explaining how you tried your best but couldn't move the said piece. you even showed him the instructions and told him how you followed the instructions exactly, but the piece still got stuck.

"okay, calm down. let's start with this one," he said and shoved the piece down to its place in a blink of an eye.

your jaw dropped as you stared at your helper, then your camera, "i should've asked for his help from the very start."

your helper chuckled and made himself comfortable on the floor, still keeping his back to the camera as he reached for the instructions.

"you just need a little more strength, y/n."

the video continued with a timelapse of you and your helper finishing the furniture; with you helping with the instructions and carrying the pieces and your helper trying his best in assembling it. the timelapse ended as the two of you finished. your helper got up to his feet and with your help, the two of you pushed the cabinet to stand properly.

"hey, i think we did a pretty good job!" you said to the camera.

xii. trying archery (ft. archery gold medalist!)

"hello everyone, welcome back to the channel! how are you guys? i hope all of you are doing well. so today i am here," you gestured towards the background, "at an archery range. and as you seen on the title, i am gonna be trying archery today! and i happen to have a friend that does or at least know how to do archery."

you gestured towards someone behind the camera to come closer. a moment later, a guy walked into the frame and stand beside you.

"introduce yourself!"

the guy bowed and simply introduced himself, "hi, everyone. i'm jeno."

"if you guys remembered the video where i tried building a tv cabinet, this is the friend that helped me build the cabinet!"

jeno kept quiet beside you, nodding along to your words as you start to explain your itinerary for the day. he only chimed in when he heard you saying how he was a archery gold medalist.

"no, wait a minute," he cut your monologue, "i'm not a gold medalist."

"yes, you are!" you protested.

"i'm not! it was only sports week at school, silly."

"mhm, and what about the neighborhood sports competition?" you crossed your arms.

"that doesn't count! my opponents were all old uncles!"

you gasped, as if what he said was scandalous. jeno rolled his eyes at your antics. "old uncles?"

"alright that's enough. now put your gear on," he turned you around and started pushing you to the counter where the staff had your gear ready.

you sped up the parts of the two of you getting ready. and finally the video started going on a normal pace when you and jeno were standing right behind the line.

"fear not, people, for i am katniss everdeen!" you said in a mighty voice, your chest puffed up.

"okay, katniss everdeen. now start practicing before you poke someone's eye off." jeno guided you to take up your posture, "now shoot by yourself first."

your first shot was awful as predicted. but so was your second and third. it was then jeno started correcting your posture again and the angle of your arm.

"now put your hand right on the corner of your mouth here as you pull the bow," he said as he took a place right behind you. "take a breath, hold it, and exhale as you release your bow."

you did as you were told and the camera moved to the target to capture your score. your arrow landed on the border of the second and third circle from the middle.

you jumped and shouted excitedly, "a nine! i got a nine!"

jeno smiled at your antics, his eyes curving to the shape of little crescent moons. he stood his ground even when you took his hand into yours and started jumping. but the small smie never left his face.

"let's do it again!" you said, "and we're not gonna go home until i get at least two bullseye!"

xix. meet my new friend!

"hello everyone, welcome back to the channel! how are you guys? i hope all of you are doing well. we're not starting the video like the usual, as you guys noticed, and that's because i have a surprise for you guys! anyway, before we start the video..."

you started doing your usual thing, talking about one thing and anything that happened since your last video. but in the middle of your talk, the sound of a door opening was heard. your eyes focused on something behind the camera, where the door was supposedly. your eyes twinkled and your lips were pulled into a smile.

"and as you can see from the title, i want to introduce you guys to my new friend." you scoot aside, "okay, now come here, jeno."

you looked at the camera and held out a hand, "jeno's not the one i'm introducing you guys to. i think you guys know him already."

jeno came into the frame, holding a white puppy against his chest. he greeted your subscribers with a small hello and a smile, and then he raised the puppy's leg and waved it, "hi guys!"

you let them do their greetings, looking at them with such warmth in your eyes. it was obvious how much you adore the puppy, and maybe even jeno. (your subscribers definitely went out of their minds when they saw the way you look at jeno and the puppy; some of them were so sure you were looking at jeno and some others believed you were looking at the new puppy).

you caress the puppy's head, seeing as it was just quietly snuggling against jeno. you cooed when the puppy yawned. jeno smiled warmly at you as you obsessed over your new pup.

"so, mind telling them how we got this little guy?" you asked jeno as you kept giving the puppy rubs on its head.

"me? i thought you want to tell the story," jeno scrunched his eyebrows. you gave him a look that made him sigh.

"so, it was thursday- friday night? it was raining outside when i got a call from y/n. to be honest, i couldn't really hear much because of the rain. she had to practically shout so i can hear her," jeno started rubbing the little pup with his thumb. "the only thing i could hear was that she couldn't let him get rained on before she hung up on me."

"it was raining and i had to move fast, okay?" you protested.

"mhm, sure. anyway, she came home sopping wet with this little guy clutched to her chest." jeno glanced at the pup before looking at you, "and she started crying about not being able to leave him alone in the rain."

"and that's how we got this little guy!" you cut him.

"mhm, said miss emotional," he teased.

"hey, i was really sad, okay? this little guy didn't deserve to be left alone in the rain!" you protested.

jeno stared blankly at the camera, "and now i have two babies to take care of."

"hey!"

(your subscribers didn't miss how jeno said you 'came home', leading them to assume that the two of you were really living together.)

xxviii. back home for christmas

"hello everyone, welcome back to the channel! how are you guys? i hope all of you are doing well. so today we are," the camera captures you on the passenger seat of a car, "on our way back home for christmas! oh, say hi to mr. driver!"

you moved the camera to capture the guy beside you; jeno, the driver.

"hi guys. merry christmas!" he said, taking his eyes off the road to focus on the camera for a second.

"well, technically, it's a couple days before christmas. but this video would probably be out after christmas anyways, so merry christmas!" you rambled.

"anyway, i'm gonna show you guys what i got everyone for christmas. and i'll probably gonna show you what i got for christmas too! so, stay tuned!"

"woof!"

the camera panned to where your white samoyed was currently sticking his head out. "hey, gureumi!"

the white dog looked at the camera in your hands and tilted his head in confusion. he shifted his attention to your best friend instead, nudging his nose to jeno's elbow that was resting on the console, asking for rubs.

"do you see this, guys? gureumi has betrayed me!" you complained dramatically.

you lay your head on top of gureumi's and snuggle the best you can, muttering, "gureumi, do you not love me anymore? i'm so sad."

the cheeky thing he was, gureumi ignored you and snuggled his face to jeno's arm instead. you whined against his white fur, "noooo!!!"

jeno's voice came from outside the frame, "alright, alright," he rubbed gureumi's face as best as he could before addressing you, "y/n, you know he loves you more than me so please seat properly."

you boo-ed but complied nonetheless, "buzzkill," and turned to the camera again, "well, we still have some ways to go so.... see you guys in a bit!"

(your subscribers kept commenting how you and jeno must be in a serious relationship because you're taking him home for christmas; meaning you're also taking him to meet your family and spend your time together. some commented how they're seeing jeno a lot more in your videos now.)

xlii. cooking my mom's recipes for thanksgiving

"hello everyone, welcome back to the channel! how are you guys? i hope all of you are doing well. so today we are going to try and cook my favorites of my mom's thanksgiving recipes!"

the camera captured you on your kitchen. you were leaning against the counter, focused solely on the camera in front of you.

"the reason i am cooking this year is because my family's gonna be the one coming here for thanksgiving!" you clapped your hands once, "and jeno's too! so, we... have a lot of things to do hence why i am definitely gonna rope jeno into this too."

the video cuts to a view of white tile floors the next second, a pair of black shoes sits at the edge of the frame. the camera tilted, almost falling, before a hand caught it in time.

"whew, that was close!" the camera caught jeno's eyesmile as he shot his face. "i'm gonna get into so much trouble if it fell."

jeno's face couldn't be seen clearly on camera. he wore a black hat and half his face was covered by a black mask. "oh wow, i look like i'm about to do something illegal."

he flashed the camera a cute eyesmile, "which i will- am never going to do," and flipped the camera to face what he was seeing- an empty shopping cart.

"y/n will be doing most of the cooking, so i figured the least i could do is help with the groceries. let's see what we need here."

jeno managed to go through the list fairly quick. the camera shot his face again, "okay, since we are done with the list. i think i deserve to get something for me, right? some snacks won't hurt anybody."

saying the shopping cart was full was an understatement. the list you gave him was only for a few recipes as your mother and his, respectively, insisted on bringing at least one dish for the dinner. but the snacks he was piling on the cart really had nothing to do with the dinner, and it was starting to cover everything else.

oh, he was in for a scolding when he got home.

(your subscribers couldn't help but to notice how jeno also tossed in a lot of your favorite snacks, and some even caught on his quiet mumbles about how 'this is y/n's favorite!')

lix. so... we got married?

"hello everyone, welcome back to the channel! how are you guys? i hope all of you are doing well. so..." you paused and chuckled nervously, "i got married?"

you put a clapping sound effect on the video, hoping it would soothe the somewhat awkward atmosphere. you smooth out invisible crickles in your shirt, clearly nervous for what you're about to reveal on the video.

"this video is probably a bit different than my usual ones because i think you guys are probably confused by the title. this may come as a shock to all, or at least some, of you..." you smiled, "but it's true, I am married."

"okay, i think i have to apologize for the sudden news. i know you guys probably have a lot of questions about it and since i am finally settled down from all the wedding and honeymoon festives, i can finally explain it.

"a lot of you guys have been questioning if i was dating someone since a few years back. i've also seen your questions in the comments about dating a certain someone. i realised i never even cleared it up, but yes, i was dating jeno long before he started to show up on my videos. neither jeno or me ever confirmed it whenever any of you asked because, well... with so much of my life -and in extension, his also- known to the public, i like to keep our relationship private. although i know some of you were really sure we were dating," you laughed.

"so a few months ago he proposed. out of the blue, really. i really didn't expect him to propose that day. and i know," you emphasized with your hand, "that a lot of you are probably dying to know how did he propose to me."

a smile started to bloom on your face as you remember his proposal. "it wasn't a grand romantic thing, actually. it really just was another day. we just finished our date and i just got in to the car. i remember that i was particularly stressed out on the last couple of weeks before that day and jeno took me out on a date because he could see how much the stress was affecting me."

"we were just talking in the car after our date. i don't even remember what we talked about," you laughed, "i just remember talking a lot and he was just staring at me. when i asked him a question, he just blurted out THE question."

"i really thought he was out of my mind! i told him 'you are joking, right?' but he looked really serious. and then i remember panicking because i thought i said the wrong thing. but then he just repeated the question again. i think i even asked him why but i don't think he's comfortable with me sharing all of the details he said during his proposal."

your cheeks were starting to hurt from all the smiling, but the smile was still there. the door behind you opened a little bit and someone peeked in, although the gap between the door and the walls were too small for your viewers to identify the person.

"though, one thing i could guarantee: what he said was really sweet and, dare i say, romantic. i think i cried a little bit-"

"no, you were full on sobbing by then." jeno's head popped in from behind the door.

"i was not!" you gasped as you swivled to his direction.

jeno grinned and came inside the room, heading straight to you with his arms out. he cradled your face and started making baby noises, "uuu, is y/n gonna cry again just from remembering what i said?"

you punched his stomach in return, laughing lightheartedly, "shut up, doofus. i was not sobbing!"

"mhm, whatever helps you sleep at night, baby."

"hey!"

jeno flashed out his eyesmile and pecked your lips. he leaned his head against yours despite the awkward angle, with him just slightly crouching down and you sitting on your usual filming chair. he stared at the camera and mouthed, 'she definitely cried.'

you elbowed his sides and tried to shove him off you. you whined when he stayed adamant, pasted to your side.

"go away!"

jeno shook his head, messing your hair, "nooooo, you're stuck with me!"

"go away! unless," you paused to look at him, "you want to tell the whole story yourself?"

"no thanks!" jeno laughed. he gave you one last kiss on your temple before exiting the room.

you rolled your eyes at his antics, but the smile never left your face. you put your attention on your camera again and continued where you left off, letting know your viewers how your family reacted when they knew about the proposal and how jeno actually had bought a ring for you about a year prior. how he brought the ring with him every where because he didn't want you to find out yet. how you went to south korea for your two and a half week long honeymoon, and visiting jeno's family there while you're at it.

"so... yeah. i got married and i am really happy. that's all i have to say for this particular video. i'm not sure if i'm gonna upload my wedding video or not because to be completely honest, the party was fun. but super chaotic, in a good way! i may scrounge up some footage from our honeymoon and upload them one day though. one day! i'm not promising anything." you laughed, "i actually like having some things just for ourselves. but i'll ask jeno how he feels about it."

"well, that's all i have for this video. thank you so much for watching and i'll see you guys elsewhere! bye!"

(your comment section blew up with a lot of 'i kNEW it! I KNEW THEY WERE DATING!!!' and congratulatory comments. but on the brief moment jeno appeared on the video, your subscribers could see how much you love each other, but more importantly how much he loves you. they obsess over how they could practically see honey dripping from his eyes when he looked at you, how he calls you baby, how he still teases you good-naturedly like in your earlier videos, and how he seems to like clinging to your side. in a cute way.)

© 2023 springdaybreaks.

[themoonchildwhofell]

all my ghosts

pairing: Farleigh Start x reader

content/warnings: fluff (im so sorry guys), pretty fast paced lol

summary: HC of a healthy farleigh x reader relationship (thank fucking god)

note: really wanted to write farleigh finding a nice partner that helps him with his trauma lol. possibly post saltburn. I'm so sorry my dudes. I really am a sucker for fluff! still based off of a Lizzy Mcalpine song.

"'Cause I hate all of my habits but I happen to love you."

Farleigh met you at a 7/11 near the place he works at. He's pretty bummed about not having to go to Oxford as well as fully disconnecting from the old life he had.

It was exactly July 11th. He remembered because you got a free slurpie at the convenient store.

You looked good for someone who was staying up due to an exam. You finally decided to claim that free slurpie they had since sugar wakes you up.

Farleigh, on the other hand, was just exploring the place. He didn't really want to stay at his mum's place. So he decided to get his own place.

He didn't really want to go out that night. It was a not-so-impulsive decision due to the fact that his case of cigarettes were all out.

The fluorescent lights weren't really giving you justice. As well as the bags under your eyes but who cares? You really need to pass this math exam tomorrow.

He approached you being the extrovert that he is and asked for your name and number. His excuse was to tour him around since it was his first time back at the States. (he was already living there for 3 weeks)

You agreed to tour him around. Praying that he wasn't a murderer of some sort.

You two went out the very next day to "tour" him around. At the end of the day, he did ask if this was a date.

"No. But maybe we can set a proper one?" you suggested.

He liked that. It means he gets to see you again.

Months pass and you both seem to connect really well.

The relationship progresses to you both being a couple.

Everything felt great. There was the usual fights, of course. I mean Farleigh is kind of a diva. You expected him to be annoying at times.

But most of the time, he's the loveliest.

It's the same with Farleigh as well. He loves your company. You make him feel good and sane. Especially after all the loss he experienced.

There are times that he feels like you're too good for him especially with all the baggage he has. All the trauma from Saltburn and his cousins passing.

These trauma did manifest some bad habits that he's actively fighting. But it helps him when he thinks that he might have a lot of ghosts with him haunting every piece of him left in Saltburn; He still has you.

Dates with him are always unpredictable. You both tried to do cocktails once at his apartment but failed. You both decided to just drink the wine and eat all the fruit.

You also tried cooking. Which was fun and messy. But the mac and cheese was good. He was really convinced that he could make a better mac and cheese than Gordon Ramsey. You giggled at how adorable he was and agreed. That night ended in a sink full of dirty dishes, slow dancing to Master & A Hound by Gregory Alan Isakov and tiny sweet kisses.

Sometimes, you both try clubbing. But end up going home early to just drink at home and watch some movie or have sex.

You both tried to finish two bottles of brandy one time.

"You really think you can beat me at drinking?" Farleigh smirked.

"Fuck! I'm 3 shots deep, my boy. And I feel sober." You we're not. You both didn't finish the bottles of brandy. And he had to carry you to bed.

"You know... I'm pretty drunk right now. But I really love you, Farleigh. You and all your ghosts." You passed out right after. He did say he loved you too. But he'll probably just repeat it once you both are sober. That was the first time you both said I love you.

You had the realization that you'd want to spend the rest of your life with him one Saturday morning. You both we're on the couch watching Bluey. You made him watch Bluey because at first he didn't want to since it's a kids show. But he saw the one episode with Chili and it really stuck with him.

He was laughing at a particular scene when he said. "I think we're like them. Chili and Bandit."

You stared at him. "Yeah. I guess so." It kinda dawned on you how compatible you both are. How you can live like this for the rest of your life.

He had the realization that he wanted to marry you the time you we're at his mom's home celebrating Christmas. You were helping with decorating the tree. He decided to quickly grab the star at the top of the cupboard in the hallway. While going back to the living room, he saw you sweaty, with your tongue out and concentrating on placing the lights on the tree. He realized he has never felt happier than that exact moment. He would love to spend every christmas decorating trees with you.

[hyunfilms]

blue side of the sky (lmh) | eight.

♡ spotify playlist | series masterlist

—summary: waking up after 3 months with no recollection of your past, your friends do what they can to help you remember. except, they omit an important piece to the puzzle - afraid you would remember the heartbreak and hurt all over again.

—pairing: lee know x f. reader

—genre: (18+) exes to lovers, bestfriends to lovers au | fluff, angst, (eventual) smut

—word count: 5.5k

—chapter warnings: cussing/mature language, mentions of alcohol consumption (not by oc), very platonic slow-dancing with jisung, we hear jisung's feelings about the accident 🥺, a bit more descriptive details of the accident, more minho x oc interactions yay!!, flashback - kisses/probably err on the side of making out lol

"Shit, I need to be at Yeong-Su's in the next five minutes or else my parents are gonna kill me." Jisung huffs as he struggles to get his tie done. You put your eyelash curler down to help him because you can't watch him struggle any longer. You step in front of him and take over, neatly securing his tie around his neck before looking up at him with a small smile. "Thank you." He lets out a breath of relief before looking at himself in the mirror once more. 

"You're welcome. You should go."

"You're gonna be okay?"

"I will."

"What are you trying to say?" Chan yells from their room, making the two of you laugh.

"You look beautiful, cielo."

"Thanks. You don't look too bad yourself, pachi." He smiles.

"See you guys down there." He calls out before rushing out of the room to meet the groom and the groomsmen. You finish curling your lashes, adding some light falsies to spruce up your look. You didn't add much makeup since you were going for a more natural look, but you were satisfied with how it turned out in the end.

You weren't entirely sure in the beginning, you hadn't done this in a very long time. It feels nice.

When you finally give your hair one last fix and spray a bit of perfume, you step into Chan and Seungmin's room, seeing them fix their suits a few times while looking in the mirror. Chan's eyes dart from the mirror to you, then back to the mirror before he's doing a double take.

"Wow, you look amazing Y/N." He turns to look at you. "And you were saying you weren't sure about the dress?"

"I just haven't dressed up like this in awhile, you know?" You shrug. "San said it was nice." Your hands brush down the fabric of the dress while Seungmin and Chan chuckle.

"San was right." Chan nods. "Though, I hope he knows we won't make it easy for him to weasel his way into your heart." Chan focuses on tightening his tie once more.

"Seriously, Y/N. You look stunning." Seungmin adds. "Ready to go?"

"Mhm. Ready when you two are."

"Alright, let me just throw on my watch and I'll be good." Chan says, snatching his Rolex off of the nightstand and securing it around his wrist. The three of you head straight towards the garden area, your eyes light up at all the wedding decorations. The venue was decorated beautifully with its sage, taupe and champagne flowers and tones.

You're pulled out of your daze when you hear a familiar voice greeting Seungmin and Chan, Chan glancing over at you once you've met the eyes of said familiar voice.

"Y/N, hey." Minho says, slowly eyeing you up and down. "W-wow, you look amazing." You look at him with a small smile as you also peep his outfit— a  crisp button up with a black tie, sleeves rolled up mid-way with nicely pleated grey slacks. It's simple, but it works well for him. His long, brown hair slightly drapes over his eyes, a silver watch sitting prettily on his wrist.

"Hey Minho. Thanks, you don't look too bad yourself." You chuckle just as Chan gently tugs at the gift bag in your hand.

"I'll go place this down at the gift table for you, alright? Gotta put my gift down too." You give him a small nod before returning your attention to Seungmin and Minho. They're chatting amongst themselves, and you find yourself shuffling closer to Seungmin as the crowd grows.

"You okay?" Minho suddenly asks. "Did you take your medicine?" Seungmin subtly bites onto his bottom lip while he watches your eyes shift upwards at Minho. Suddenly, Minho feels a little embarrassed for outwardly showing his worry for you. He knows this isn't the time, he knows he needs to step back. "Sorry, I—"

"It's okay." You give him a reassuring nod. "I did this morning. I appreciate the reminder, though." Minho simply nods in acknowledgement before Seungmin butts in.

"We should find our seats." He says, watching the rest of the guests settle into their seats. Seungmin's hand settles on the small of your back, gently pressing you towards the way to your seats. At this point, Chan re-joins the group and follows along, greeting some of Jisung's family members on the way over. Seungmin takes the seat near the aisle, followed by you, Chan and Minho. Just as Chan settles into the seat, Minho meets your eyes and his facial expression softens. The corner of his lips tug upwards into a tiny smile that you almost miss, and he doesn't necessarily peel his eyes off of you even as the pianist starts to play the entrance song.

You feel that look settle in the pit of your stomach.

"Oh shit, it's starting already." Chan harshly whispers over to you and Seungmin. The three of you stand as the pianist plays the song loudly, the bridesmaids accompanied by the groomsmen. Jisung walks down the aisle with a smug smirk on his face that makes Chan, Minho and Seungmin quietly laugh to themselves. Shortly following behind is another couple, then another— until the entire group passes and lines up at the altar. Once they've settled in their positions alongside of Yeong-Su, Yuna begins to make her way down the aisle looking beautiful as ever in her wedding dress.

You watch the way Yuna and Yeong-Su look at each other so lovingly in the eyes as they go through their vows, the tears still flowing down their cheeks— causing everyone in attendance to break into their own tears and sniffles. You wonder what it's like to be completely enamored by someone, to love someone so deeply and with everything in you; 

What is love?

Were you ever in love at some point? True, genuine love? 

Your eyes wander to the ocean just behind the venue, before they fall onto Minho again. But, when you turn, you find that he's looking at you already and his expression is unreadable. He is always unreadable, but it's the feeling you get that confuses you the most.

"Kiss!" Seungmin yells just as the crowd begins to yell along, making you chuckle. Minho is no longer looking at you, and he's snapped himself back to current times— back to reality.

God.

The wedding passes quickly, with the reception following shortly behind. It's a short distance of a walk, the huge tent with champagne-colored drapes right around the corner of the hotel. The view of the sunset and ocean is clearer in this area, with the breeze a bit stronger [though it hits the drapes and decorations beautifully]. 

"Cielo." Jisung comes from behind, causing you to turn over your shoulder to look at him. "Are you still doing okay?"

"Mhm." You nod. "I was just about to to grab a drink."

"I can do it—"

"It's fine, pachi. I got it." You give him a toothless smile as you step forward to the self-serve area for the drinks; all the fruit-flavored, non-alcoholic drinks lined up in cute beverage dispensers with gold detailing. You help yourself to some of the strawberry mango concoction that's almost gone, waiting for every drip to fall into your cup.

"I'm nervous." Jisung whines a bit, watching as you wait for your cup to fill.

"Why are you nervous? You're going to be fine, Ji."

"I haven't sang in front of my family in such a long time."

"And I'm sure you'll do great. They'll love you. Besides, you'll have Seungmin with you." You finally bring your cup up to your lips while you turn to Jisung.

"You don't think my singing voice is icky, right?"

"Jisung, please." You chuckle and shake your head. "Your voice is lovely. Your family will love it." You give his arm a gentle squeeze. "Promise." He lets out a deep breath before he nods.

"You're right." He walks alongside of you as you walk back to the table, Chan helping himself to the salad and bread that was just served. The three of you engage in small talk over some food, while Minho decides to sip on his drink near the open bar area. He watches the way you laugh and smile, his gut wishing he was the reason why—

"Please tell me you're just taking way too long to decide which drink you'll go for after you finish that." Seungmin comes to his side, making Minho damn near choke on the cocktail he's sipping.

"Excuse you."

"Creep." Seungmin gives him a look and Minho glares at him.

"I was just people-watching."

"Like that makes it any better."

"Would you mind your own business, Kim Seungmin? Don't you have a song to sing soon?"

"Soon, not right now." Seungmin sips on his cocktail before digging his other hand into his pocket. "So, staring at Y/N?"

"I wasn't staring at her." Minho looks at him, but all Seungmin does is cock a brow up. "I mean I was, but like, I was just making sure she was okay.. from a distance. It wasn't too long ago when I brought her to urgent care."

"Was that hard?"

"What?"

"To say that you care."

"She's still my bestfriend at the end of the day." Minho blurts out the first excuse that comes to mind even though he has no right to play that card.

"Alright then." Seungmin shrugs, half-understanding why Minho was acting the way he was, half-not-understanding why he couldn't just say what was on his mind. "Whatever you say, my guy. I'm gonna head back to our friends." He heads for the table with Minho following shortly after.

The remainder of the program goes by beautifully, with Jisung, the rest of the bridesmaids and groomsmen giving their thoughtful and sweet speeches. You've cried once or twice, especially when Yuna shares a dance with her father, and Yeong-Su gives his own speech to everyone before catering to his now-wife. There are special surprise performances from family, one being Jisung and Seungmin's performance— singing to Alto Moon's 'Mars.'

As soon as the dance portion of the night begins, Chan whisks you away to the dance floor, twirling you around before the both of you start to dance along to the song. Shortly, Seungmin joins along after he's found his way towards you two, then Jisung, Yuna and Yeong-Su. Minho joins the circle, laughing and enjoying himself across from you. Nonetheless, it's a good time and you find yourself having tons of fun with Jisung's family and your friends. You almost don't want the weekend to come to an end because you'll be looking to relive the entire thing all over again.

It's the first time you've felt alive in awhile.

"Hey." Jisung slips into the empty seat next to Seungmin while you two sit down for a break. "Please, help. I need a break from them." He points at his family. "They're killing me with the pictures." He tries to duck by Seungmin's figure to avoid people calling him over.

"Sucks to be you." You laugh at Seungmin's remark. "Jisung is over here!" Seungmin calls out, making Jisung punch him on the bicep.

"You asshole." He moves away from his seat to keep dodging his family, putting his hand out for you to grab when the songs begin to slow down. "Perfect timing! Let's go dance, cielo." Jisung brings you out onto the floor for a slow dance. You wrap your arms around his neck and he holds you around the waist, the both of you swaying to the slow beat of the song.

"Are you having a good time? Feeling okay?"

"I am. Thank you for bringing me along."

"Of course, I knew you'd enjoy it." He chuckles a bit.

"No, really. Thank you." You pull back to look at him. "You know, for always looking out for me and being there for me? For being patient? I know it might not be easy after everything that's happened. Or, I might not be the easiest to take care of, but you make life a lot smoother."

"Cielo, you're my bestfriend. I'll do anything for you." He lets out a breath. "When the accident happened, I was scared." Even if he won't get into too many details right now, it's the first time Jisung is really speaking up about the accident. "I couldn't help but blame myself because I felt like I could've done better. I spent nights trying to figure out where I could have prevented this from happening, where I lacked in keeping you safe. Why I didn't do certain things—"

"Jisung, that wasn't your fault."

"Still." He looks at you. "Maybe I should've prevented you from leaving that night. I should have made you stay knowing the storm was at its peak." You can't even remember the night of the accident, but your uncle had briefly mentioned leaving Jisung's. Why you were there, you weren't sure. Why you left, you aren't sure. But you hopped in an Uber, the driver losing control of the car when a drunk driver in the opposite lane swerved— causing the car to flip when you were only 5 minutes away from home.

It makes you sick to even think about it. That's one thing you don't want ever to relive, or have memories of.

"There are things you can't protect me from, pachi." You say softly while looking up at him. "Just as me with you."

"I just should've done better, Y/N. I could have." He clears his throat. "You were almost taken away from me. I'll never let another opportunity slip past me again." He looks at you as if it's the last time he's looking at you. But before the moment carries on, he pulls you in, hugging you tightly and warmly. He keeps you close, because that's what he feels like he needs to do from this moment on.

"I'm here, pachi." You softly say as you part from him. All he can do is look at you and nod, giving you some space as the next song begins to play. 

"I know." At this point, Jisung's mom comes from behind him and sweetly asks for a dance from her son. You hand him off, smiling at them right before you turn on your heel to head to the bathroom. Luckily, it isn't too far into the hotel. You can't wait to relieve yourself and freshen up a bit, giving yourself a bit of a break before heading back out to be surrounded by people and loud music.

Once you feel like you've given yourself a good enough breather, you leave the bathroom and turn the corner—

"Woah." Minho says, his hands immediately coming to your elbows. "Oh jeez, I'm so sorry Y/N." He says when he realizes it's you he almost ran into. 

"You're alright." You chuckle. "I shouldn't have turned the corner so quickly." He puts on a small smile.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I just needed a little bathroom break and a quick breather." You look past his shoulder to get a glimpse of the party. "Is Jisung still with his mom?" He shakes his head.

"No, but his auntie."

"Of course. I saw you and Chan with the aunties earlier."

"Gotta save them a dance or two, you know?" You giggle.

"How sweet." Pause. Silence. Minho observes every inch of your face, body— the scar on your cheek from the accident, and the one near your hairline. You're beautiful, and he doesn't even care if he's staring.

All that liquid courage, especially.

"You really do look amazing tonight."

"Thank you, Minho." You fiddle with your fingers. "I should let you get back to.. you know.." He lets out a small breathy laugh just as you see Jisung hurrying into your point of view.

"Please. Help." You read Jisung's lips and furrow your brows, causing Minho to turn over his shoulder and look at him.

"He always needs saving." Minho rolls his eyes, making you laugh at his statement.

"Are you gonna head back to the table after?" He nods.

"Yeah. But for now, I think you should get to Jisungie before he cries."

"Right. I'll see you later." You chuckle as you walk past him and meet Jisung, who is hiding from his aunties [again] even in plain sight. 

Minho is left alone to ponder on his thoughts, and he can't stand this.

Actually, he can't stand himself. Cause god, he was preparing to accept the worst. To lose you, to not have you around. To have something taken away from him so suddenly.

Then, that wasn't the case. But that's not the issue at all, no. He's happy and he can't stop thanking the higher power for giving you another chance at life. He doesn't know what he'd do without you, you were always important to him. Always will be.

Still, you are what he loves the most.

But he can't stand himself because he's here, acting like everything is fine. He was heartbroken when you didn't remember who he was, had no recollection of the memories you two shared— he fell deeper in this dark hole with Kat even though he didn't intend to. She just filled this void that he had, and it's fucked up of him to lean on the girl that messed up everything you two had in the first place. He couldn't help himself. But, what breaks his heart the most now is that you don't know, and you may or may not ever know. He couldn't dare to see you crying or hurt. Even though Minho really wants to be honest, he really wants to tell you.

You two have so much to talk about.

He looks at you as you hit the dance floor with the group and he's just not sure when or how to do this— how to even act around you because you're the girl he's always loved. You're the girl he imagined spending his entire life with. But you're also the same girl he hurt so, so deeply.

He's the one who brought you all this love, along with all this hurt, and he'll never forgive himself for it. 

He wishes it wasn't so difficult because when he looks at you, he wishes he could love you time and time again— like the world was due to end any minute now.

That's way too selfish of him, though. He's already been selfish once, and he won't dare to be that selfish again. He'll try not to.

Not if it hurts you.

Jisung joins Yeong-su and the groomsmen for a little after party at a nearby bar, while Chan and Seungmin busy themselves with rounds of Mario Party in the room. You decide that you want to walk and experience more of the ocean, listening to the waves crash against the sand under the cool weather.

"I'm going to walk around the hotel."

"Wait, do you want one of us to come?" Chan's eyes are fixated on the screen in front of him as he furiously presses the button on the controller.

"No, it's okay. I just wanted to take a quick walk and sit by the water for a minute. I'll come back." You stand at their doorway and give them a small smile.

"You su— ah, fuck off dude!" Seungmin yells. "Are you sure, Y/N?" He repeats to finish off his previous thought.

"More than sure." You give them one last wave before heading out the door. After the wedding, you quickly took a shower and threw on some cotton shorts, a baby tee and a loose zip-up to protect you from the colder breeze at this time of night. You zip it up halfway, tugging on the zipper as you step into the elevator and head down to the first floor. It's still pretty lively, with guests at the restaurant and bar. Just as you send a text to your uncle to let him know you're okay, you do a double-take when you catch a familiar face sitting in the same exact dining area where you and Seungmin sat yesterday.

You don't say much, but you're quick to find out that you don't need to. As if his instinct told him to turn right at the moment, he does. He catches your eyes as he's about to take another sip, a subtle smile forming at the corner of his lips when you shyly wave. He sets the glass down and lets the waiter know he's finished, acknowledging him once more before making his way over to you. He smiles a bit, but you can tell he's nervous [partially tipsy, too].

"I didn't think I'd run into you out here." Minho says, making you chuckle as he continues to walk alongside of you.

"I wanted to walk around and sit by the water for a bit."

"Not tired?" You shrug.

"I am, but I wanted to get a better view of the ocean before leaving." You look up at him. "I could ask you the same."

"I figured I'd explore around too."

"See." You giggle.

"What's Chan and Seungmin doing?"

"Playing Mario Party." He chuckles.

"Of course." It's silent for a bit before the two of you head down the steps and finally hit the sand. "They didn't wanna join?"

"I mean they asked, but I told them they didn't need to. Don't wanna interrupt their session."

"They'll live." You laugh a bit and nod.

"It's alright." Minho catches you take in a deep breath before exhaling, biting onto your bottom lip as you slowly take steps forward, closing in to the water. It falls silent between you two, but it's a comfortable silence. You take in the view, while Minho observes you.

Calm. 

Beautiful.

So—

"So pretty." His head tilts to the side because yes, you are.

"Yeah, it is."

"I think I want to draw or paint this when I get back home." You quickly snap a photo.

"You should." You look at him and give him another small, toothless smile before sitting on the sand. Minho stands for a bit before he finally sits next to you— legs propped up while his hands rest on his knees. "How's all of that going?"

"I don't know. Better? Finally feeling some kind of inspiration to get back into art." You smile out towards the water. "I haven't done much yet. But either way, it's refreshing."

"That's good. How are the pottery classes?"

"Fun." You shrug. "Keeps me busy." You tuck your knees to your chest and look at him again. "I think I wanna work at the florist shop near Sunday Morning." 

"Really? That'll be fun, too." Minho chuckles a bit. "You sure you're ready?" You nod.

"Yeah, think so. I feel ready. San said I should go for it, too." Minho's smile slowly fades. Of course he did. 

"How's that?" He forces himself to ask, though he's afraid of the answer. Selfishly so. Here he goes, already failing with being selfish.

"Which? San?" You ask him, genuinely confused about the question.

"Mhm."

"He's becoming a good friend. We hang out, we talk." 

"As long as he's good to you, Y/N." He's not even sure what direction that statement is going, but whatever it is— he truthfully and wholeheartedly means it. If San is what will make you happy, then he will let you be happy.

That's the most important.

"It's good company, that's all." Your arm brushes against his, but you don't react much about it. "Enough about me though, what about you?"

"I'm a boring person."

"Clearly not if we're bestfriends." You chuckle a bit.

"All I do is exist, Y/N. Truthfully. I just work, dance, cook." Minho laughs at how pathetic he's making himself sound right now, but it's true. It's all he does.

"Well, what about Kat?" He shivers a bit. It's weird how her name used to be like venom. Now, it's.. nothing?

"Kat?" He repeats and looks at you. You nod at him so innocently and it hits him how much the accident has changed you. Of course, not your fault. But it goes to show how difficult it's been having to adjust. "We— she— that's not really a thing anymore, I guess?"

"So, you two were dating officially?"

"No. Never. We casually saw each other but that's all." He swallows the lump in his throat.

"I'm sorry, Minho."

"No need." He chuckles. "We were never going to be serious. I just finally learned how to walk away from it. The hard way."

"I hope you really are okay." You rest your chin against your knees. 

"I am. Don't worry about me." It falls silent for a moment before you call for him.

"Minho?"

"Yeah?"

"This is nice. I.. haven't been able to talk to you much, so it's nice to hear your voice more." He smiles before his head drops and he shakes his head.

"I know, I'm sorry. I just get occupied, and I always try to keep myself busy. Plus, I wanted to give you your space for a bit."

"I understand." You sigh. "This must be weird for you."

"No." He shakes his head. "It's not weird or anything. Don't ever think that."

"You feel distant."

"I'm not gonna lie, it's difficult because a lot has changed." He looks at you before tearing his eyes away. "I'm terrible at coping, and I'm terrible at dealing with big changes. All my own personal struggles, that's all."

"I get that."

"But I am sorry you feel that way. I know I should've done better, especially as your bestfriend. I haven't acted like it."

"It's okay, Minho. You don't have to apologize."

"I do. You deserve that from me." He looks at you again and his eyes soften. How he wishes he could pull you close, hold you, reassure you through a kiss on the forehead. 

He feels his heart sink to the pit of his stomach, so he shifts and focuses on the water, listens to the waves crashing against the sand.

Maybe one day, he'll be able to look at you for longer.

"I wish you didn't leave so quickly after you brought me home from the clinic."

"I wanted you to get your rest."

"Jisungie was there. I was looking for you. I wish you stayed." This is what makes it difficult. You looked for him. He feels like it's been forever since that happened.

"I'm sorry." He replies softly. "I'll make it up to you, okay?"

"You can by staying and not hurrying away next time." You feel your heart thumping in your chest, and you're not sure why you feel so shy, so nervous around Minho right now. The root feeling you get with him is unfamiliar, strange— falls into the category of known unknowns. But, one thing is for sure: you crave Minho's company.

"I can do that." You nod before letting out a small yawn into your elbow. "Maybe we should head back so you can sleep?"

"Yeah, I think the exhaustion is finally hitting me." You giggle, watching as Minho stands and dusts himself off. He puts out a hand, letting you grab onto his to help pull you up to do the same. "At least I got to enjoy the ocean." You turn to him as you start to walk back into the hotel. "Thanks for spontaneously joining me."

"Of course."

"Are you on the fourth floor too?" He shakes his head.

"I booked my room a little last minute so I'm on the seventh." He digs his hands into his pockets. "Is Jisungie back?"

"No. He probably won't be back until later."

"Hm." He hums as he presses the elevator button.

"I think we're getting breakfast tomorrow right? Us 5?"

"Mhm. If Jisung is alive." You laugh and step inside.

"True. He'll be a mess later."

"Do you wanna sleep in my room?" You raise a brow at him and he instantly retracts. "Oh no, no— sorry, I meant like, you can sleep in my bed— fuck." He groans. before gathering his thoughts again. "We can switch. So you don't have to deal with him later." You laugh.

"It's alright. If I need help, I'll call you. How about that?"

"Fair enough."

"I'm sure he'll be okay." The elevator dings when it his the fourth floor. "Thanks again for the company. I'll see you tomorrow morning?"

"Yeah." You smile. 

"Goodnight, Minho."

"Goodnight." His eyes are glued onto you even as you turn on your heel and walk down the hallway, the elevator doors closing in front of him.

Now, he feels empty.

He's left with another piece of his heart broken, left with the unbearing sadness and anxiety he feels every time you walk away from him.

How do you continue to love someone who doesn't remember you the way you remember them— who doesn't love you the way you love them?

☁︎ FLASHBACK | A NIGHT DURING FRESHMAN YR IN COLLEGE

"Ouch, fuck!" You whine as you almost slip on the dirt, making your way up the stupid fucking hill behind campus. "If I break my ankle or fall, this will be all your fault Lee Minho."

"You're fine! We're almost there, princess." He laughs loudly as he watches you struggle climbing up the somewhat steep hill. Minho holds his hand out for you to grab, giving you some leverage to tackle the dirt path. You squeal a bit when you feel him pull you upwards, letting out a laugh when you finally get your footing together on flat ground.

"All this for the tower." You dust yourself off and look up at the abandoned watch [fire?] tower nestled up in the hills behind campus. "So worth." You turn to look at the town's view ahead.

"Atta girl." Minho smiles and nods towards the tower. "Come, let's go up the stairs and sit up there." He swings the rusted, metal gate open to lead you to the stairs.

"We're not gonna get in trouble, right?"

"Baby, baby, baby." He says in a certain tone. "Are we really asking that question?"

"Well, I don't know!" Minho steps aside to let you climb up the steps first. "Campus security could see us from down there and catch an attitude about us being here at this time!"

"Then we'll just tell them we're not getting any younger. It's a must to explore what's outside of campus before we're thrusted in the real world." You snort as you reach the end, feet stepping onto the platform. It isn't an incredibly huge tower— quite frankly, it's tiny and you're not even sure why the dang thing existed in the first place. But, there's nothing eery to it at all. It's a nice spot to have these moments.

"A prophet. I am dating a prophet."

"Maybe." Minho laughs as he sits on the platform and takes a swig of his water. "Sit with me. Please?" Is all he says when he reaches for your hand and gently pulls you in between his legs. You sit contently, letting Minho lazily wrap his arm around your neck before planting a kiss on your temple.

"It's a perfect night." You look up at the dark, night sky, counting as stars in your immediate view. You feel your body into Minho's as he adjusts his position and holds you closer to him. "Thanks for taking me up here, love."

"Course." He gives you a small smile. "Just don't tell Ji or else he's gonna be pissed. He's been wanting to do the hike up here but I keep telling him I'm too lazy."

"Too lazy, huh?" You chuckle.

"Gotta make princess happy first and foremost." He boops the tip of your nose, making you slightly turn over your shoulder to meet his eyes.

"Hey, babe?"

"Hm?" He hums as he gently pushes the hair away from your face.

"What do you think life would be like for us in a couple of years?"

"Well." He lets out a breath as you lay back on him, the both of you watching the hustle and bustle of the town. "I'd be owning a café. You'll be teaching art, maybe opening your own little boutique for it. We'd probably live together, and I'll start stressing on how to propose to you as time continues to go on—"

"Woah, propose?" You smirk and playfully push him. "Is that so?"

"I thought we were looking at us in the future?"

"Cute. Do you think we're too young to think like that?" Minho shakes his head.

"Maybe." He presses a kiss to the top of your head. "But I'm sure of it. I think that counts for something." You let out a soft, breathy laugh.

"Yeah, you're right." You nod and lay back on him. "I like that. I like future us."

"Good." You scoff before laughing. Minho continues to stare at you, smile slowly fading when his eyes shift from yours, to your lips— back up to your eyes. "So pretty."

"It's nighttime." He shrugs as he leans in slowly.

"And? Can still see you perfectly." He mumbles just as his lips brush against yours— sending tingles down your spine. You subtly bite onto your bottom lip, closing in on the kiss. Minho holds the kiss for a moment before he inches back, coming in for another shortly after. This time, his tongue lightly glides across your bottom lip; his way of asking for permission to take the kiss a little deeper. 

And you let him.

You slightly turn to position yourself better, hand coming up his neck, jaw, cheek, just as he sucks onto your bottom lip and tugs it back. You let out a soft sigh, smiling into the kiss as Minho continues.

"Maybe—we should—" You kiss him. "Head back?" He nods, giving you one last peck on the lips. 

"Yeah." You prepare to stand and dust yourself off when Minho grabs your wrist. "Hey, babe?" You turn to look at him when he gets himself up. "I love you."

"I love you, too." You smile and kiss him on the tip of his nose.

☁︎ END

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[lambertdiary]

I’m outrageously down bad for him but can you please (if you want to) write a scenario where they’re cuddling and the readers straggling his lap but he gets a little bricked up 🙀🙀

A/N: hey sooo... i did it, i finally wrote an NSFW piece lol. this is my first time posting that type of content here so pls let me know what you think!! and if you're not comfortable reading this content feel free to exit my blog!

Word Count: 1.9k+

Warnings: NSFW, smut, established relation ship (again, if you're not comfortable reading this please keep scrolling)

MASTERLIST     ✩    SEND ME A REQUEST

Just Me And You

Y/N usually enjoyed rainy days, she liked the cold weather and wearing big hoodies, but not when it ruined her plans with her favorite people.

Dalton, Chris and Y/N had made plans to explore the town and find a diner that made at least decent milkshakes. But with no car and no real destination, they decided it would be the best idea to postpone it to another day.

“One of us should learn how to drive… and get a car” Chris said exiting the elevator, the other two following her.

“And that should be you” Y/N replied.

“No, it should be someone responsible”

“Then I guess we need to find a fourth member” Dalton said jokingly. 

“I know you’re joking but I vote yes to that, being the third was okay for the first few months but you two are unbearable to watch sometimes” Chris opened the door to her and Y/N’s dorm, dropping her backpack next to a pile of dirty laundry somewhere on the floor. 

“What the hell? You set us up” Dalton replied, following the girls into their room. 

“And I will have to live with that for the rest of my life” Chris went straight to her bed, getting comfortable with a bunch of blankets for the current weather “I’m gonna take a nap, it’s the only acceptable thing to do when it’s raining like that” 

“Oh-“ Y/N was getting the feeling that she was being kicked out of her own room.

“I’m sure you’ll find something to do in Dalton’s dorm” Chris said as if she was reading Y/N’s mind. 

“Thanks for the hospitality” Dalton joked, ready to walk out. 

“My pleasure”

Y/N and Dalton left the room and started walking towards the elevator “Guess it’s just me and you then” He said. 

“Yeah” Y/N smiled at her boyfriend “What should we do?”

“We could just stay in and watch a movie or something, it’s raining too much out there” 

“Let’s watch a horrible movie and regret it later” 

They agreed to buy snacks from the vending machine downstairs and stay in Dalton’s room, they didn’t wanna go out in that weather and they definitely didn’t wanna bother Chris. 

After scrolling for a bit, they chose a horrible movie they discovered to be one the lowest rated films on letterboxd, and it was horribly rated for a reason. It wasn’t the type of film that was so bad it was kind of funny, it was borderline unwatchable. They wanted to give it a chance and try to finish it, but when their brains couldn’t take it anymore, they decided to do something more fun. Kissing.

What started like any other kiss quickly became something more heated. Turning into a heavy make out session. They weren’t unusual but something about the weather made Y/N want to feel closer to him.

Y/N moved to his lap almost on instinct, resting her knees on each side of him. Barely stopping to catch their breaths and only for a couple of seconds. 

The minutes went by and eventually Y/N broke the kiss to look at him. She smirked before kissing the corner of his mouth, then leaving a trail of kisses leading to his neck. Dalton let out a shaky breath, which made Y/N stop “Is this okay?” She asked, a little concerned she overstepped his boundaries.

“Yes” He said barely above a whisper. After hearing him say that, Y/N went back to his neck, exploring new ways to pleasure him. 

Dalton was enjoying it, maybe too much. He felt his sweatpants get tighter and his body get warmer. He felt his face burn, getting worried Y/N would know what was happening to him. 

In an attempt to hide his situation he shuffled under her, which only made Y/N notice it. She let out an involuntary moan and Dalton got more worked up at the sound. They have done stuff before, but it never got to… that.

Y/N kept kissing his neck and Dalton was caressing her back, occasionally moving to her hair, while she tried really hard to stop her hips from squirming on his lap. Dalton noticed this and gripped one side of her body to steady her. But that only made her wanna shift more. His touch was almost overwhelming, but she wanted more.

Dalton’s hands moved to her thighs, holding them in their place, which sent Y/N goosebumps all over her skin warning her of another feeling. She was having a hard time focusing on anything, so once she stopped working on his neck, Dalton took the opportunity to return her neck the favor. 

She inhaled as her hands took a fistful of his shirt, quickly moving them to the hem of it. She tugged it asking him for permission to remove it, to which he hummed in response. 

Y/N removed Dalton’s shirt and the sight of her shirtless boyfriend made the feeling between her legs stronger, not being able to hold it anymore she started to rock her hips against his lap. 

“Hmmm…” Dalton hummed quietly. He kept his lips on her neck and the vibrations of her sounds made him drool. He stopped what he was doing to look at her. 

“Are you okay?” Y/N asked him, stopping her movements. She needed to be sure they were both okay with what was about to happen and that they would both enjoy it.

“I just- I’ve never” He stammered. 

“Me neither” Dalton’s breathing was getting heavy at this conversation “Um- Should we-“

He interrupted her “Only if you’re ready” 

Y/N admired his eyes for a few seconds, and leaned in for another kiss “Okay” She whispered. Dalton guided her to the bed, making her lay on her back and placing himself above her. They kissed again for a little while and Dalton asked her “Can I take your shirt off?” Y/N nodded and took it off herself, feeling a little self conscious, but Dalton swears he has never seen a more beautiful girl “You’re so beautiful” He breathed.

He started kissing her torso, and going down to her legs. His big palms ran up the outer sides of her thighs slowly before tugging at her sweatpants. Y/N lifted her hips allowing him to drag them down and taking them off completely “Your turn” Y/N gasped. She knew it was only a matter of time before he found out how damp she was already.

Dalton looked up at her and shyly smiled, but complied with her request. He was now standing there wearing nothing but underwear. This made Y/N squeeze her legs together, aching for some kind of relief. He noticed this and slowly pushed her thighs apart to make space between them “If you want me to stop, just let me know, please” He said looking up at her.

“Okay” She said, and a second later he had his thumb pressed against her clit, already aching for him. A small cry of relief leaving her lips at the feeling. He smirked, clearly proud of himself. He slid a finger under the fabric and smothered it over her skin a few times, eventually getting rid of her underwear too. He looked up at her waiting for consent before bringing it down all the way, and Y/N nodded.

Dalton tossed it somewhere behind him and lowered his body almost all the way, stopping only a few inches away from her “I wanna taste you” She was unable to say something at this point “Y/N?”

“Okay” She forced the words out.

“Tell me what you like” He said before breaking the distance. He was using his tongue, his hands and even his nose. Y/N feels like she’s never felt before, her mind getting dizzy and soft moans being the only sounds she can let out. Dalton would occasionally look at her, to make sure she was okay and enjoying it, and the eye contact drove him crazy.

Y/N felt something build in her tummy, knowing exactly what it was she tried to prepare herself to stay quiet, she didn’t wanna be loud in a dorm. An orgasm washed over her and her hips bucked up involuntarily. Dalton knew it was happening, so he used his big arms to pin her down to the bed. He helped her through it too (or at least tried to) and when he assumed it was over, he went back on his knees and looked at her.

She had her eyes closed as she dusted off the high “Do you have condoms?” She asked suddenly, in the haze of his lustful mind he forgot about that important detail.

“Uh- yeah” He stood up from the bed and went directly to his nightstand, opening the drawer and looking through it for a moment. He came across a sealed box of condoms he bought a few weeks ago and opened it, slowly pulling out one of them. He returned to the edge of the bed and saw Y/N holding in a laugh “What?”

She shook her head “You just happen to have condoms?” She raised her eyebrows waiting for his response.

“I- uh- I thought we might need them one day” Dalton blushed so hard he felt like he was going to explode and Y/N couldn’t help but laugh at his reaction.

“Well done” She said. 

Dalton took off his briefs and slid the condom down his cock, before climbing back up and meeting her lips once again. He put her hair behind her ear before kissing her temple “I love you” He whispered softly.

“I love you” Y/N repeated. 

He slowly entered her, and Dalton reached up to her hand and intertwined their fingers, holding them against the mattress. He pushed in slowly, not wanting to get ahead of himself and hurt his girlfriend but when he heard her say “Keep going” He just went for it.

Both of them were breathing out whispered moans into his dark room, barely illuminated by his laptop with the movie still playing “Shhh, Chris is up there” He said when he remembered.

He feels incredible inside of her and it’s almost impossible to keep it down. He was rocking into her and finally found a steady pace. He managed to somehow angle his hips upwards and Y/N felt him gliding over her sensitive g-spot, pushing in and out over and over again. 

He could feel himself losing his pace with his own orgasm approaching. He tried to increase his rhythm again, as he noticed Y/N tighten around him. Feeling it get closer he forced his eyes shut “I think I’m close” He breathed out.

He groaned deeply and threw his head back when he felt the wave of euphoria hit him. Y/N was a whimpering mess below him, completely giving up on holding the sounds.

They stayed like that for a moment, just breathing deeply. Once they both calmed down, Dalton lifted his head and kissed Y/N on the lips “Was that okay?” He asked her.

Y/N was still breathing a little hard when she nodded her head and responded “Yes”

Dalton was relieved to hear that. He pulled himself out and collapsed next to her, bringing her closer to his chest. He kissed her temple again and whispered a little “I love you” Before returning their attention to the movie.

[kiwi-solace]

Yandere!Ateez: How You Meet (Pairs)

Warnings: pussy eating, *cough* eiffel tower *cough*, unprotected sex, creampie, yandere themes: obsession, implied stalking and legit stalking for now, dubious consent. If this isn’t your cup of tea, then kindly skip. 

Word Count: 6.3k

A/N: Soooo February is coming up and even though I have not written in so long (college and other stuff) I wanna get back into it. Plus I am lacking in yandere content (my guilty pleasure) so I decided fuck it I’ll do it myself lol. Plus y’all can’t tell me you don’t find yandere!ateez fun. BUT, I have to layout the groundwork first from the beginning before diving on into their profiles. I did not mean for San and Wooyoung’s to end up as a straight up smut. I haven’t written smut since like 2017 so that was a shock lmao. No beta read we die like men 👀

♡ THIS IS NOT A REAL REFLECTION OF THEM IN LIFE ♡

♡ Hongjoong - Seonghwa ♡

Order, Dilligence

Every few months, you like to dress in your best evening gown and treat yourself to the city's best operas. Normally these places are out of your price range, but your college had managed a deal with the opera house with its prestigious drama department. However, you don’t go unless you feel you’ve earned it by successfully passing a critique, surviving midterms or finals, and other things of the sorts. Just last week you finished by not only surviving your finals week, but passing with flying colors that included your critiques for pieces that made you feel passion you hadn’t felt in a long time. Why not let that passion grow by watching a show stopping performance practiced and perfected by performers out of your league in expertise? It’s a chance to finally relax and enjoy the arts surrounding you. 

You know it’s common for the wealthy to appear at the opera house on a regular basis, which gave you a lovely excuse to buy an elegant gown, but you knew to stay out of the way for the most part. The last thing you wanted was to get on the wrong side of some celebrity or accidentally offend someone’s future CEO. On the other hand, this was a great opportunity to grow your network and make connections that would help you out in the near future and you will one day–you just haven’t worked up the courage to do so. That didn’t stop you from random conversations during intermissions and finalies on occasion, which brings you to your current situation. It’s unfortunate you know the celebrity that you caught the attention of would only cause trouble rather than provide any future positive aspects into your life. Little did you know during this interaction two stark personalities were watching you closely from the private balconies.

“I appreciate the kind words Jinyoung, but I believe there are far better prospects in this room than just me.”

“Nonsense. Nothing could be better than your divine presence. I should be thanking you for letting me be this close,” he smirks as he leans in closer, arm snaking behind your back. You can feel the stares this is garnering and the malice of envious women are even louder. You start to shuffle away in an effort to get away from his grasp, but his grip only tightens at the movement making you fall stiff in the denial of your efforts. “Trying to get away doll?”

You really want to roll your eyes at that. “I just think it’d be more appropriate for the setting if we were not so close to each other. I do not want to ruin your reputation.” You could care less. What you do care about, is the amount of attention you’re earning yourself instead of staying the invisible nobody you believed you were. It’s nice to pretend once in a while and act like you are desired by such high profile people, though you actively avoid trouble as you’d not like to be on the receiving end of hate campaigns online or in person. “I appreciate the consideration, but I can’t let such a person leave me now,” he purrs. In that moment, you spot a glint in his eyes that wasn’t there before making you freeze in place before you could comprehend what was happening. It seemed like everything stopped around you, including your own body against your will. As panic begins to settle in, two figures approach behind you and one of them places a hand on your shoulder, making you jolt in place. 

If you weren’t in such a public setting, you’d be freaking out at Jinyoung, wondering what the hell just happened to you. You’re cursing him in your head as the fear that rose starts to turn into anger when a voice from behind you brings you back to the situation at hand. “Who’s this lovely lady Jinyoung?” a deep voice says. You shift your body to face the mysterious speaker only to come face to face with the city’s most prestigious CEOs and high society couple–Park Seonghwa and Kim Hongjoong. 

Your eyes widen as you acknowledge their presence and politely bow to them. “A lady with manners is always a plus in my book,” Seonghwa states as he gives you a quick once over then turning his attention to the now silently glaring Jinyoung. “I’m sure you won’t mind us stealing her from you now would you Jinyoung?” Hongjoong questions, but anyone watching could tell it was rhetorical. You don’t know why you willingly looped your arm around Seonghwa’s arm as you made eye contact. You don’t know why everyone seemed to be looking away as they moved out of your way when the three of you walked towards the exit. You don’t know why you willingly got into their limo, squeezed between the both of them even when there was ample space to spread out. Your mind felt empty. Nothing was being comprehended besides bits and pieces of conversation between the two of them and sometimes aimed at you. 

“Just let us lead you doll, we’ll take care of you,” Hongjoong cooed as he hooks his arm around your lower back. “You were right on coming tonight Seonghwa. It seems like others have become just as intoxicated with her as us.”

“When am I ever wrong dear?” He smirks. “But this little stunt will bring some unwanted press unfortunately…we should also do something about Jinyoung touching what’s ours,” he scowls.

“Nothing we haven’t taken care of before. You know the drill by now,” Hongjoong’s eyes gaining that similar glint before he steels his face as they approach their limo waiting for them.

“Ah~ our love is finally with us darling,” Seonghwa purred as he tucked his face in the crook of your neck and took a deep breath. “Even with all the years of life we had, she’s the most intoxicating I’ve ever been connected to…besides you love.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” Hongjoong laughs as he mirrors Seonghwa, dragging his unusually sharp teeth along your neck. Had you been in a better conscious state, you would’ve pulled away from the both of them. None of this was making sense. You felt trapped in your own body, thrown into the lion’s den in their presence as the driver began the journey to god knows where. 

“W-where…” you attempt to speak, but it’s taking much more energy than you can expel at the moment. An intense wave of exhaustion washing over you just from that one word.

“Oh. Our love really is meant for us. No one is able to even utter a word when compelled by you Seonghwa~” Hongjoong teases before leaving a light peck in the crook of your neck and sitting up. “But this better not be a sneak peak of future disobedience,” he sighs. “So troublesome.”

Seonghwa laughs a little as he also sits up and rests his hand on your thigh. “She’ll be the perfect little pet in no time even if she did Joongie. She is our soulmate after all. She’s the missing piece to us.” He pauses to turn your  head towards him, a smile gracing his face as his eyes begin to glow an ominous red. “You can rest (y/n), we’re finally taking you home where you belong with us.” 

And with that final command, you lean into him and fall into a deep slumber.

♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎

♡ Yeosang - Jongho ♡

Service, Attentive

Had you known you would be catering your kingdom’s royal anniversary party you’d think someone was playing a prank on you. In fact, you still think it’s all a dream as you and your team bring in the large order of pastries into the kitchen to be inspected and set up in the ballroom for the kingdom’s kings to celebrate their anniversary of taking the throne a millennia ago. You weren’t alive when they first began their rule, only being a young enough witch, your kind isn’t really known for their longevity in age unlike other supernatural beings in the world. It really all depends on the class and path your magic chooses. You had known since young that you weren’t cut out for the more offensive or combat driven magic. Enjoying helping others, you learned that you could pair spells into objects including food to be digested for the masses. After years of training and perfecting your technique, you finally opened your own modest bakery that sold pastries based on health, luck, and fortune. Each category had varying effects, but your strongest spells were the ones in health, including longevity and especially disease ridding spells. It had become the talk of your small seaside town that had spread through the kingdom within a few years that led you here, in the kingdom’s grand palace today. 

It was last month when a messenger had come to her bakery with a royal summons in hand. At first you thought they had the wrong witch in mind, you were only a small bakery owner with a bit of witchiness to add onto it. Very modest. But the messenger insisted the letter was for you and you were to cater for the upcoming anniversary with a variety of your pastries for the established guests that would be attending along with the majesties. Ever since then, you had been working nonstop with organizing the spells for the increased number of people you’d be serving along with your regular customers throughout the normal work day. To say you were tired was an understatement, but you can’t say it wasn’t worth it as you passed through the threshold of the palace. You never imagined you’d be able to step foot into the palace let alone potentially meet the majesties. You’ve heard many rumors about them ranging from their ethereal beauty to their dominating presence. Growing up in a town on the outskirts of the kingdom doesn’t grant you many opportunities if at all seeing them in the flesh. Even in their routine visits around the kingdom, it’s been recorded that they’ve only approached your town a handful of times. Times you weren’t even born yet. 

Setting up was easy with the palace servants aiding their help to move things along faster than it would’ve taken if it had been just you and your team of your five apprentices. As you worked, you heard a range of excited whispers about the presence of the kings nearby. Apparently the servants have seen less and less of them over the years for some unknown reason. Many guessed it could be as small as needing a break, but some had believed one of them had fallen ill. You hope it wasn’t the last reason, knowing if that were true they’d have eager invaders in a heartbeat and your town would be one of the firsts to go. The health of the kings is the strength of the kingdom. By the time you dismissed your team to change for the party, the sun had started to set and guests were beginning to arrive at the gates. You knew it wouldn’t be until another thirty minutes when they’d be allowed to enter the ballroom, so you went ahead to change yourself and look for the garden you had spotted when walking through one of the long corridors. 

With a few slips up on the path, you manage to find yourself in the middle of the royal garden. You wander around until you see a fountain up ahead surrounded by the tall shrubbery that lines the path beautifully. The sun dips lower, painting the sky in pink and purple hues signaling the moon’s takeover soon. Every passing minute you can feel your own magic radiate underneath your fingertips. Now that you think about it, you don’t usually feel your magic this strongly even when there’s a full moon at its highest peak. You were far from being the strongest witch, but it didn’t mean you were weak either. As you approach the fountain you gaze into its tranquil ripples as you try to pinpoint why almost your entire body starts to vibrate until you hear a sharp sound to your right, alerting you of another presence. The man you come face to face almost takes your breath away as he stares directly at you, questioning. You opened your mouth to greet him, but before you could say a word, you felt an overwhelming pressure suddenly drop onto your shoulders as he continued to stare. He seems to notice your discomfort and approaches you to lift a hand to your arm. “Are you alright?” His voice was much deeper than you expected from the way he looked, but it was a pleasant surprise. 

His touch also not only lifted the pressure you felt, but reigned in you magic tenfold. “I am okay now, thank you,” you smile and take a deep breath, noticing he hadn’t let go yet. “Did you come to see the sunset in this garden?” Being silent would only make things awkward with a stranger, and you’ll be damned to embarrass yourself even once in front of him. You can already feel your skin heat up from his lingering touch. 

“Yes I did. I believed I needed a time of peace before I made my appearance in the ballroom.” He smiles. You look away from him and at his hand to avoid any more unnecessary eye contact. Just his presence makes you nervous, and you’ve never been one to flirt. Following your gaze, he pulls his hand away seemingly embarrassed to have forgotten he was holding you. “I apologize for touching you without permission. While I wanted to soothe your magic, in turn it began to soothe my own being.” He pauses before stepping away from you toward the palace. “I hope to see you at the party later,” he says before making a swift exit, leaving you alone with your thoughts. The encounter felt important, and yet you couldn’t pinpoint the exact reason why. In addition, just his touch was able to reign in your magic, which was already alarming, but your magic seemed to soothe him too if what he said was true. Shaking your head, you decide to compartmentalize that for later deconstruction. As of now, you had a party to attend. 

You and your team of apprentices stuck to your display of pastries as the guests mingled and danced with one another. Occasionally, you’d try to push your apprentices to make connections and you could stay and answer any questions the guests had for each pastry available, but they insisted on staying by your side. It wasn’t until a bit halfway through the majesties finally made their appearance, the air changing with the pressure they brought and the guests all stilled and to bow their way. Before you could bow, you stood shocked as you realized the man you spoke to in the garden was none other than one the kings and you barely showed your respect. You moved quickly to bow before the situation fully settled in. As you rose along with the other guests you could feel his stare on you, but you refused to raise your head in their direction as they were announced to the guests. The one you met was none other than King Yeosang and next to him was King Jongho who looked more beautiful than the rumors could supply.

You may have not realized it now, or even as the party progressed and made their rounds, but Yeosang couldn’t get his mind off of you. No one outside of Jongho could settle his turbulent soul and calm his rampant energy that has only grown more restless as the years went on. They’re in a time of peace, while that is good for the wellbeing of their people, it’s not in their nature to remain so kind, so his soul has been more than disobedient ever since. When he left the garden, he made a beeline to Jongho to tell him of this experience. He had to share the news of a particular witch he encountered that was able to achieve such a feat, but knowing how protective Jongho is, he wasn’t surprised by his apprehensive curiosity. They planned to keep you here close to them to explore this new revelation and see if you really are their missing piece. 

Their queen.

♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎

♡ Mingi - Yunho ♡

Protection, Adoration

It had been years since you returned to your hometown you think as you open your childhood bedroom door. Ever since you graduated high school, you were college bound in the big city and haven't looked back since. It wasn’t until almost five years later with constant pestering from your family and old friends you decided to finally visit. Placing your bags down next to your closet door, you move over to your window sill to gaze at the old yet familiar view of the right behind your house. You recall your friends growing up had always been afraid to sleep over your house and would only come during the day time. By the time the sun would threaten to set, they’d be long gone so you would usually be the one to travel to them after the fifth disappearance happened while in your middle school years. 

Your friends always wondered how you weren’t afraid of the forest right outside your window, but you shrugged off their concerns and told them you didn’t believe the rumors, knowing damn well the people that would go missing were very real. Denial can be a powerful thing if you put your mind to it. Though you know the real reason why you never felt afraid was far from the more rational side of reality. A pull to the forest had always been felt by you, even as you gaze at it now, a deep longing is felt. When you moved away, that longing only increased tenfold as you went to pursue your dreams, to the point after these five years, you couldn’t take it anymore. You know you shouldn’t walk into that dark forest, the light being unable to pierce through its density even in the bright hours of day, and yet you find yourself getting up to leave the house in a daze. It’s like an out of body experience before you realize you’re at the edge of the forest not long after. In shock, you take a deep breath and look at your surroundings to see if anyone could see you standing at the forest edge. I shouldn’t do this–but you must. Even your thoughts are contradicting themselves as you take the first step to cross the threshold. The crunch of the fall leaves sounds louder in the stark silence, making you hesitate on taking your next step. Last chance to back out. Closing your eyes, you take another step, releasing the breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. You open your eyes to take in the reality of things and turn around only to not see the houses that were once there. Only darkness surrounds you now–panic begins to settle in at your current situation.

“How…” you say to no one but yourself, unable to believe what just happened. Steeling your nerves as best as you can, you turn forward to continue moving, hoping you’d find something that could help lead you back out of this unknown maze this is turning out to be. You don’t know how long you had been wandering, the concept of time lost on you when the sun and moon isn’t there to lend a hand, all you do know is that you’re being watched. That telltale feeling as if something or someone is staring at you hasn’t left ever since you began your path further into the forest. No matter how many times you checked around yourself, you couldn’t find anything except more trees and plants. You haven’t even seen a single animal in this forest adding onto its eerie nature.

Far up ahead, you think you can see the forest lighting up as if there was a light at the end of this endless tunnel. This could be the edge of the forest you were looking for to get back to your home! With that thought, you pick up your pace, not wanting to fully run to conserve energy, but the desire to get out of this forest is overpowering the longing you originally felt that brought you here in the first place. Approaching this edge, you stop in your tracks at the sight you’re met with. A beautiful flower field stretches beyond you as the sun bathes it with its rays. Wandering further in, you’re amazed that something so beautiful was hidden in this dark forest–it almost feels like an entirely different plane of existence. Where the forest filled you with fear of the unexpected and a cold feeling, this field wrapped you in its warmth and happiness as you sat in a patch of grass, careful to not crush any of the neighboring flowers. Looking back up at the sky you see that the sun hasn’t reached its highest point, which means it was still morning. At most maybe two hours had passed since you entered the forest, yet it feels much longer than that. Sighing, you lay back onto the soft grass, lost in your own thoughts of how you got yourself in this situation. Why have other people get you into bad situations when you can do it perfectly fine by yourself, you laugh to yourself at that.

You don’t know when you dozed off, the comforting warmth of the morning sun and the peaceful atmosphere the flower field created leaving you in a tranquil daze, but by the time you woke up the sun was a bit past its highest peak in the day. Blinking away your sleepiness, you don’t register the furry warmth on either side of you, nor the curious yet excited eyes that watch your every move. Lifting yourself to sit up, you yawn and stretch out, arms rising and falling to the side only to land on furry warm bodies instead of the cool grass below you, making you jolt in place. An embarrassingly high squeal comes out as one of the large wolves to your right, with a warm auburn color sits up and brings its face closer to yours. You move to pull back away from you, until you realize the wolf with black fur moved behind you to keep you from moving away, all with an excited tail wagging at an alarming speed. Why are they so excited? If I were their prey I feel like I should feel way more alarmed than just the confusion and shock I have as of now. The auburn wolf moves to clumsily lay in your lap as you’re lost in your thoughts, ignoring the fact its way larger than what your lap could hold. Its whines bring you out of your thoughts to focus solely on them. “H-hello?” You don’t know why you’re talking to it, but from the way it’s looking at you, you can’t help yourself from trying.

The wolf from behind you scoffs and shifts to move in front of you as well. He eyes the auburn wolf and tries to push them off of your lap with their nose, causing adorable whines from them as they reluctantly get up to sit in front of you instead. The black wolf then barks at you before raising its paw to you. With how incredulous this situation is, you’re not surprised at yourself when you lift your hand to grasp their paw in your hand. When you woke up in your cottage today, you didn’t think you’d be shaking hands…or paws with a wolf, but I guess you can check that off your imaginary list. The auburn wolf, annoyed with the lack of attention, rolls onto its back to attract your attention and maybe even a few belly rubs if it's being honest. You let go of the black wolf’s paw and let out a giggle at the display the other is showing. After a quick inspection, you come to realize the wolf was male and reach over to give a few tentative pets on his belly. His tail wags in approval as your petting becomes more confident. The black wolf begins to mimic its friend, wanting the same amount of affection and you happily oblige the both of them. While this interaction was bizarre, it was a welcome distraction from your daily work/life schedule. 

People usually say to avoid the forest surrounding your hometown, but finding this flower field in addition to adorably cute wolves was making you think otherwise. If you hadn’t wandered in, you would’ve never had this experience. It wasn’t long until the sun started to set, alerting you to the time that has passed since you awoke from your unexpected nap. Getting up, the wolves perk up from their resting positions from your sudden movement. You sigh as you stretch out from sitting for an extended period of time and turn to face the both of them. “It was nice spending time with you both, but I have to get home now,” you smile as you turn to leave towards the direction you came. However, you only make it to the edge of the clearing before the large black wolf runs in front of you, interrupting your path. Stunned at first, you move to go around the wolf and wave, but he only follows to block you again. The auburn wolf joins him at his side and growls as you move to step aside once again, causing fear to slowly well up inside you. “I have to get home you guys, it’ll be dark soon,” you plead your case. You don’t know why you’re talking to them like they understand you, but their eyes seem to speak louder than your own words. The black wolf nudges you back as the other gently bites your sleeve to pull you in the opposite direction. You try to yank your arm back and move again, but their growls make you still in your movements. Will these wolves hurt me? What was I thinking to trust wild animals? You can’t help but talk down on yourself over ignoring the lessons that you’ve been taught since young. 

There’s a reason those who enter this forest never leave and now you’re the next victim. Never enter the forest.

♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎

♡ Wooyoung - San ♡

Infatuation, Dependance

“Sannn, we need another person, they’re not giving me enough energy,” Wooyoung whines as they exit the apartment complex their latest treat lives in.

 “It’s not my fault you’re so insatiable,” San retorts with a knowing smile, “but I do agree, we’re gonna need someone new soon.” They continue their walk, traveling with no destination in mind at the moment as they discuss their plans when Wooyoung stops in his tracks before looking around. Even though it was still the middle of the night, it wasn’t hard for them to sense or see anything in the night.

“Over there,” he says and points across the street to you, walking briskly with your headphones in. San looks over in your direction and has to stop himself from running over and taking you right then and there. Normally they have their instincts under control, but even from this distance your soul smelled like the most appetizing treat they’ve had in a long time. Last time they had encountered a delicious soul like yours, they devoured them all that night, while he did regret not savoring them, they sure as hell had a memorable time they’ll never forget. But ever since then, it was like nobody ever lived up to the level their taste had been raised as they were left to feed from mediocre (at best) souls. “Well what are we waiting for,” San smiles as he and Wooyoung begin their trek to you.

On the other hand, you were quickly trying to return home after your shift. Tired from the day, and feeling tense, you’d like to unwind before taking yourself straight to bed afterwards. Seeing your apartment complex finally come into view, you pick up your pace until you’re stopped dead in your tracks by bumping into someone. You could’ve sworn you were the only one out here, but as you look up to see maybe the most handsome man you’ve laid eyes on with a friend with just as much beauty, you take a step back and begin to apologize. 

“It’s no problem at all, I should’ve been watching where I was going,” San says as he steps to the side. You nod in response, afraid you’d make a fool of yourself if you opened your mouth. “You shouldn’t be out here alone, you know. We could walk you the rest of the way if you’d like,” Wooyoung offers as he steps towards you with a kind smile. Normally you’d have your alarms blaring in your head, but as you look at them, you can’t help but nod again to allow them to escort you. “Well then lead the way doll.”

It was a quick walk, and really didn’t need an escort, but who were you to say no to them. You could barely think of a coherent sentence let alone have rational thoughts. Now at the entrance to your building, you turn to thank them for escorting you and wish for them to get home safe.

“No problem at all. Hope you have sweet dreams tonight,” Wooyoung winks before they turn to leave.And boy did you have the sweetest of them all.

♡♡♡♡♡♡

You open your eyes when you hear a sudden to the left of you. You don’t know why, but you feel as if you were no longer alone in your room. Slowly turning your head you squint as your eyes try to adjust to the darkness, but are unable to see anything.

“Right here love,” a voice to your right suddenly says, causing you to jolt upright and look to see who’s beside you. You hear a giggle from your other side when you acknowledge the person beside you was one of the men that escorted you. 

“W-wha–” you begin before you’re cut off with Wooyoung’s finger. “No need to think about it right now (y/n), we just want to pleasure you. Will you let us?” he asks as San from the other side of you pulls you closer to his lap. His lips trace your ear as they wait for your response, fingers lightly pulling at your shirt. “We can take care of you so well baby,” San whispers into your ear, sending shivers down your back. You whimper slightly from embarrassment of how much they affect you so easily, but also because in that moment San starts to nibble right below your ear, making you feel weak. Wooyoung, not wanting to be excluded from the fun, moves in front of you to open your legs and pull down your shorts. 

“No panties?” he smirks at you before lowering himself to your thighs, trailing light kisses that evolve into full love bites the closer he gets to your core. San reaches around you to pull your shirt off and immediately grasps your breasts to fondle them. “No bra either,” he laughs, “it’s like she knew we’d be here.” San moves your head to the side to gain better access to your neck, then latches onto it without hesitation. Your soft pants egg Wooyoung on to finally lick your slit, causing you to instinctively close your legs, but he grabs onto both of your thighs and pushes them back, folding you. 

“Let go for us (y/n), we’ll take good care of you. Right Youngie?” San smirks as he looks back at his partner lost in between his legs. He knows he’s not going to get a reply from him as he’s too lost in lapping at your lips to care about anything else around him. You yourself are lost in the feeling as Wooyoung begins to suck on your clit like his life depends on it and easily slips in two fingers in the meantime. San attaches his lips to yours, swallowing your moans and moves his hands to pinch at your nipples. Your breath hitches a bit at the pain followed by a loud moan as San lets his tongue wander your mouth, overpowering your tongue in an instant. You feel like you're going numb yet you’re being lit ablaze between the two. Tightening around Wooyoung’s fingers, he proceeds to add two more as he lifts his head to look at the state you’re in.

“Sannie, she tastes so good, can she be our pet?” Your walls pulsate around his fingers at the implication. You haven’t been able to explore your kinks before, only really having few vanilla experiences, but this is giving you the chance to explore things you never thought you’d like. You moan at the thought of being their pet, being taken care of, punished if you misbehave, but rewarded if you’re good…you need that in your life. Even if this is just a dream, you want this to continue every night if possible. Wooyoung doesn’t wait for a reply, focusing on increasing his pace and lifting his head to leave a trail of love bites along your abdomen. San presses himself against you from behind so you could feel the effect you had on him and what to anticipate. 

“Of course Youngie, she can be our pretty kitty,” he purrs happily into your neck. You can barely hear him at this point, too focused on the familiar coil that’s ready to unravel. “I-I’m–” You don’t even get to finish your sentence as you feel Wooyoung pull away from you and hear both him and San laugh at your whines. “I was so close–” you lift yourself up a bit to face Wooyoung, “Why’d you stop?”

“Can’t let you cum unless it’s around one of us kitty,” he teases and finally removes the last few articles of clothing on him, San following suit. From there San moves to the top of the bed, pulling your legs closer to him as Wooyoung situates himself behind you. “On your hands and knees,” San commands as he taps your thigh. You flip over to get in position and look up to see Wooyoung positioning his cock in front of your face with a smirk. You felt him before he was fully hard, but you didn’t expect the size he grew too. What he lacked in girth he made up for in length and it left you salivating for it.

“Open wide kitty,” Wooyoung says and you happily oblige, his tip laying heavy on your tongue. You push yourself forward to take him in more, moaning at the taste and the breath he takes in above you before sighing from the relief. “I’m gonna fuck your mouth now, just relax,” he warns as you open your mouth wider, eagerly preparing for him. He starts out slow to give you a chance to find a proper rhythm before he begins to snap into you. His moans fall deliciously from his mouth, getting lost in the feeling of your mouth, you want nothing more than to give yourself to him. Losing yourself in the feeling of Wooyoung, you’re reminded of San behind you as he presses himself against your core, slowly trailing his cock up and down your slit before lining up with your hole. 

“Don’t forget about me kitty, you’re doing so well for us,” he slowly begins to push inside of you, groaning as your walls greedily suck him in. “Fuck, such a slutty hole sucking me in like that kitty.” You moan pathetically around Wooyoung, your walls throbbing around him as he starts his relentless pace. San was thicker than his partner, and he knew how to use it, making sure he brushes against your g-spot with each thrust. If you were able to think before, they’ve successfully fucked you brainless. All you can try to ground yourself with is the intense grip you have on the sheets below you, but it’s not enough to take your mind away from the mind numbing pleasure being given to you. “Shit, she’s perfect for us Woo, how could we have gone so long without this,” he grunts, grip tightening on your love handles. “I’m sure our kitty would love to be bred all day everyday,” he smirks when he feels the effect his words have on you. “Such a dirty girl.”

“I’m sure she’d pass out before we got our fill,” he laughs in between his moans, pulling San forward for an intense kiss. San’s hips stutter a bit, getting lost in the feeling of his lover and his potential lover. After getting a taste of you, they can’t let anyone else even think of touching you.

Hearing them above you pushes you closer to your peak, bringing your hand to your clit to let you reach it quicker. At the movement, San breaks away from Wooyoung’s kiss, eliciting a whine from the latter, to focus on you. “She’s close Wooyoung, and so are you. Be good for me prettys and cum.” With those words, Wooyoung whines as he stills his hips, shoving his cock as down your throat as he can, spilling his seed down it. “Mm, I think she loves the taste of you, fuck,” San’s hips start to stutter, approaching his eye as your orgasm finally washes over you. 

You don’t remember much after you came around San’s cock. You vaguely remember San pulling out of you after he reached his own high, making sure he made his claim deep inside of you before Wooyoung began the aftercare for you. “You did so well kitty, you were so good for us.”“Just rest love, you’ll need it for later,” you hear one of them laugh next to you. You feel yourself being tucked in and cuddled on either side of you. After being pleasantly filled, your mind is left fuzzy and you can’t help, but fade into darkness from the comfort being provided. 

“We’re gonna have so much fun with you kitty~”

[vbecker10]

Hey first sorry if it written weirdly, english isn't ny first lenguage, I saw you had your requests open and wanted to ask of course loki x reader where reader is some broke artist painting/drawing people on the streets and meets loki while he passed by or something like that, thats all, pretty vague, I like your writting, and hope you enjoy your day/evening/night

I'm sorry this took so long, I've been really really behind in my asks but I'm trying to catch up so I can open them again soon. Please, never apologize for your English, I'm always impressed by people who know more than one language! 😊 I honestly love this request, hope you like it cause it sorta ran away from me lol! 💚

The Gift

Pairing: Loki x female reader

Warnings: none... literally not a single one lol, I'm in a fluffy mood so enjoy

Summary: You are an artist who paints portraits for tourists in the park near Stark Tower, the same park Loki has started to frequent during his free time. Loki and you begin talking one day after he catches you drawing him when you are between customers. A few days later, he surprises you with a gift and you decide to return the favor.

Dividers by: @harlequin-hangout

You sift through the colored pencils in your case for the right type of green before looking back at the open field in front of you. His coat is a deeper green than the grass he is resting on and the leaves above him have started to turn various shades of red and orange. You pause before putting the sharpened tip to the canvas, you had already sketched the God of Mischief into your drawing but you could easily color over him. You had never included a person in one of your private drawings before, even when the park was full of people you would leave them out of the final images.

Loki sits with his back against one of the trees lining the open field, his long legs stretched out in front of him. His thick coat is open, revealing a black dress shirt with the top two buttons left undone. He licks one of his fingers before flipping the page of his book, his eyes never looking away from the pages. Over the last month, you've seen Loki come to that spot every afternoon for an hour or two with a different book each time.

You shake your head lightly then decide to shade in Loki's dark green peacoat before adding more detail to his face, trying to capture his sharp features accurately. He came here so often he was practically a part of the park, you reasoned with yourself. Besides, he would never know, you think as you reach for another color.

You continue to work, looking up occasionally to check your reference. Loki sits almost perfectly still, as if he knows you are trying to capture his likeness but you hope your brief glances are not noticeable to the god. You put the black pencil down and gently blow any loose dust from the canvas before reviewing the finished piece with a self-satisfied grin. A breeze sweeps through the park and you lift your head from your work, looking across the field to see that Loki is suddenly gone. You lean back on your stool, turning your attention to cleaning your supplies when a deep voice behind you makes you jump.

"That's quite impressive," he says as he looks over your shoulder.

You turn quickly to face him, nearly knocking over your easel in the process. "Oh, I- I'm sorry. This is really weird right?" you ask but you continue, giving him no chance to answer. "I was just trying to keep myself occupied since there aren't many tourists around here today. I only meant to draw the field and trees but... I added you because you're always here. Not that I'm watching you, I just notice who is around cause I'm here all the time, too. I'm sorry, I know I should have asked you if it was ok before I started to draw you but you looked so lost in your book, I didn't want to bother you."

Loki chuckles at your rambling apology and says, "It's fine, no harm done."

You swallow nervously as he reaches into his coat pocket then you realize he is taking out his wallet. He gestures towards the sign in front of the easel and asks, "I only see prices for your portraits. How much for this one?"

"Uh..." you think for a moment, surprised by his offer. You typically charged $20 for a painting of one person and $10 for every additional person but you never sold your landscapes. They weren't for the tourists, they were for you.

"Your portraits are usually far smaller than this so I assume it might be a bit higher in price," he says. He wasn't wrong, the canvas you had been working on was roughly twice the size of what you typically sold. You felt a bit surprised that he knew so much about the paintings you created but you had been watching him so you assumed it was only fair he had kept an eye on you as well.

"I don't know, I never intended to sell this but..." you pause then smile at him. "You can have it," you tell him and he tilts his head slightly. "As a gift, I mean," you add quickly.

He shakes his head, "I appreciate the offer but I couldn't do that. It's clear you have a talent for landscapes and put a great deal of effort into this. The coloring and details are extremely well done for having been finished in such a short amount of time."

A wave of pride washes over you, no one has ever complimented your artwork to this extent before. You start to thank him but his phone begins to ring and you stifle a laugh when he groans in annoyance. He excuses himself, taking a few steps away from you to answer it privately. He runs his fingers through his long black hair and you can't help but wonder if he would be willing to sit for a portrait. It was easy to admit Loki was extraordinarily handsome and you wouldn't pass up the opportunity to observe him closely for an extended period of time.

He hangs up several minutes later, his smile gone but it quickly reappears when you ask if he is ok. He nods, "There is a meeting I need to attend shortly, apologies for not being able to stay for much longer. I would really love to have this for my study, though. Do you think $50 would be fair?" He takes the cash out of his leather wallet before waiting for an answer.

"I- that's too much, Loki," you tell him but he hands you the money.

"I insist," he says, not allowing you any space to argue. He then says, "Although I do seem to be at a slight disadvantage." You look at him curiously as you tuck the money into your small lock box. "You know my name, but I don't know yours," he says with a smirk.

"Oh, I'm Y/N," you answer, putting out your hand as if expecting a handshake, internally cringing.

He chuckles and takes your hand, instead of shaking it however, he brings the back of your hand to his lips and kisses it lightly. "It was a pleasure to finally speak with you Y/N. I will see you tomorrow," he says and you can't help but blush intensely as a giggle escapes you.

The next afternoon you look up from your easel as Loki walks down the path towards you, a book in his left hand. You wave a bit more enthusiastically then you meant to and he smiled broadly, waving in response before heading towards his usual spot. Your attention shifts back to the two children sitting across from you and the painting you had started. You find yourself having to resist the urge to glance over at Loki while you try to focus on the task at hand.

After finally completing the painting, the father of the two children pays you and the family walks off into the park. You begin to clean your brushes, lost in thought when a now familiar voice causes you to look up.

"Hello again," Loki says as he sets himself down on one of the unoccupied stools.

"Hi," you reply, putting your brushes back in the case until you need them again. "I'm glad you came over, I wanted to thank you again for yesterday. You really didn't have to buy it."

"Nonsense," he waves off your concern. "I told you, it was an exquisite piece and I honestly can not stand the blank walls in my study."

You can barely believe he called your work exquisite. Most people were happy enough with your portraits to give you a few dollars extra as a tip but you rarely received any real compliments.

"I have a question for you," he says and you look up from the supplies you are organizing. "I am curious, would I be able to see some of your work?"

You think for a moment, biting your lip before you answer. If it had been anyone else you would have instantly said no but Loki seemed to genuinely be interested in your work. "Sure if you want to but... most of the pieces I've painted are at my apartment. I only have my sketch pad with me," you tell him, hoping he won't be too disappointed.

Instead of answering, he simply picks up the stool he was sitting on and places it next to you with a smile. You swallow nervously and hand him your sketch book, not sure if you want to watch him look through your work or not. He opens it to the first page and you hold your breath as you watch his fingers run along the edge of the paper. Loki examines the first page for a few moments then turns the page wordlessly, you can barely read the expression on his face. You bite your lip again, crossing your arms in anticipation of him saying something, anything.

When Loki is halfway through the book, he comes to a sketch you made of Stark Tower looming over the trees of the park at dusk. "These are amazing, Y/N," he says, not taking his eyes off the page and you feel like bursting with delight. He turns to the next page and says, "This one-" but he is cut off by his phone ringing. "I'm so sorry, please excuse me," he hands you the sketch book and answers his phone.

You watch him pace back and forth along the path, his head down as he kicks a small rock lightly. A few minutes later he walks back to where you are sitting and you can tell he had bad news. "Do you have to leave already?" you ask, the disappointment more obvious in your voice than you expected.

He gives you a half smile, "I do unfortunately but thank you for sharing these with me. You truly are quite talented, Y/N."

"Thanks Loki," you look down, running your hand over the cover of your book.

"I will see you tomorrow," he says hopefully and you nod with a smile.

The next day Loki arrives at the park just as a large group of tourists make their way over to you. Normally you would be thrilled by the crowd since it means a large pay day but all you want to do is have them leave so you can talk to Loki. When you finish painting the first couple, you glance briefly towards Loki's spot and blush when you realize he is watching you. You look back to your canvas quickly and greet your next customers with a smile as they sit down.

After what feels like forever, you finally finish the last painting and the group leaves. You instantly look for Loki and see him getting up. You get to work cleaning your brushes and closing up your paints while he walks over to you. "Hello darling," Loki says.

"Hi," you reply, unable to contain a short giggle at the new pet name. Before you can overthink why he would call you that, he sits across from you just as he had yesterday but this time you notice he is holding two books.

"I have something for you," he says.

"Really?" you ask surprised. He chuckles and nods, holding out the larger of the two books for you to take. "Loki, what...?" you look down at the cover, unable to read the title.

He picks up the stool and sits next to you, much closer then the day before. "I'm sorry it's written in Asgardian but the drawings are what I wanted you to see," he tells you. He opens the book, holding it between the both of you. He flips past the first few pages of text and without looking at you says, "I was looking through this yesterday and it reminded me of you."

Your heart nearly stops when he tells you that and you quickly cover your face to hide the blush that is spreading across your cheeks. He turns one more page then stops and you can see why Loki wanted to show you this. "It's beautiful," you say quietly as you look at the colored drawing.

"This is a book about the palace gardens on Asgard," he explains without looking up. "This was one of my favorite places to read when I was younger." You can see why Loki chose this spot in the park, it looked similar to the small field lined with tall trees. Viney plants grew up the trucks of the trees and wildflowers were scattered through the grass.

He flips to the next page and shakes his head as he laughs, "This maze would rearrange itself. Thor and I spent quite a lot of time lost here."

He continues to show you page after page of the various sections of the gardens, pointing out things he missed or thought you would find interesting. You were in awe of the beauty and vastness of the gardens but you couldn't stop looking at Loki when he spoke. He never looked up from the pages, grinning and laughing at the numerous memories until he turned to the last image.

He looks away for a moment and you aren't sure what expression he is hiding. When he looks back at you, he smiles but you can see his eyes are slightly red. He clears his throat and touches the page lightly, bringing your attention back to the book. "This was my mother's favorite part of the gardens," he says just above a whisper.

You place your hand over his, squeezing it lightly and he continues to force a smile. "She's been gone for a few years now but..." he stops himself.

"You still miss her?" you ask him.

He nods, "Every day." You raise your hand to his cheek and wipe away a stray tear that falls. "I'm sorry, I- this was supposed to be a fun gift," he tries to joke.

"I love it, Loki," you tell him honestly. "Thank you so much."

He smiles a bit wider and just as he begins to say something his phone rings. "I should snap this ridiculous thing in half," he groans and you laugh.

"If you break it, I can't give you my number," you say without thinking and his face changes in an instant.

"You, my dear, make an excellent point," he smirks. "Excuse me a moment." He gets up and wanders a few steps away while you go back to the book. You flip slowly through it again but stop when you reach the last page. The garden was incredible, a rough stone path wound around multicolored rose bushes and a single stone bench sat across from a small pond in the center. You could see why Loki's mother would have loved it.

Loki walks back towards you and you close the book, holding it tightly. "Is something wrong?" you ask him.

His smile is gone and he looks at you with a serious expression. "I need to leave for a few days, four at the most I'm told," he tells you and you feel your stomach drop. You stand up, setting the book carefully on your stool.

"Promise me you'll be careful," you insist, suddenly filled with worry.

"I will, darling," he replies. He offers you his phone, "I most likely won't be able to text while I am on the mission but I can let you know when I'm back if... if you would like that?" He sounds hesitant but you quickly take his phone and add your information.

"I want to know the minute you're back safe," you say, handing him back his phone.

He smiles, "I promise."

"Good," you nod before you find yourself hugging him tightly. Your brain freezes for a moment in panic but then he wraps his arms around you and your body relaxes.

"I will be back as soon as I can," he promises you as he lets go slowly.

You take a seat at your easel and busy yourself with organizing your supplies as you force yourself to not watch him walk away.

You hang your keys on the hook and place your supplies on the small end table, closing the door as your phone beeps. You take it out of your pocket and answer it quickly.

"Hi Loki," you say excitedly, it had been four days since Loki left and you missed him more then you thought you would. You couldn't help but wonder if he missed you too.

"Hello, Y/N," he replies, you can hear other people taking loudly in the background. "I just wanted to let you know I'm on my way back. We should be landing in about half an hour."

"Oh good," you say in response, not quite ready to tell him you had been hoping every call and text you received over the last few days was him. "I imagine you must be ready to get home and rest."

He chuckles, "Honestly, I'm more hungry then anything else. The food SHIELD provides during missions is... describing it as miserable would be being kind."

You laugh then suggest, "You should come over, I'm just getting ready to cook dinner." Your heart jumps into your throat, did you really just invite him over, your brain yells.

"I would love to," he answers without any hesitation.

You laugh a bit nervously then give Loki your address. He tells you he can be there in an hour. "Great, I'm going to go so I can get everything ready. I'll see you soon," you tell him, hoping he can't hear how nervous you feel.

You run into the kitchen thankful you had bought groceries yesterday. You open the fridge and freezer then decide to cook something simple, now might not be the best time to take risks and get fancy you think to yourself. After settling on a meal that will only take half an hour, you quickly get to work tidying up your apartment. It was by no means messy but you want to make a good impression. Especially if this is a date, you think, but it's not a date.

You turn around in the middle of your small apartment and sigh, it's as good as it's going to get. Now time to make it look like you haven't been sitting in the park all day, which is the only way he had ever seen you. You toss your paint covered pants and shirt into the hamper and take the fastest shower of your life. After drying off you realize you need to start cooking.

You throw on your favorite jeans and put your hair up. Standing in front of your closest you slide the hangers back and forth, knowing you need to just pick a shirt. You reach in and grab one, pulling it on as you walk into the hallway. You finish prepping everything and place the food in the oven, setting the timer for twenty minutes. Opening the cabinet next to the fridge, you pull out the dishes and glasses so you can begin setting the table.

You should put out candles, you think, but you don't because that's for a date and this is not a date. The doorbell rings, interrupting your internal debate and your heart races. You take a quick glance at yourself in the mirror by the door and freeze when you see the shirt you picked out. No, you realize, without thinking you had put on literally the only green shirt you owned. And it wasn't just any green, it was the same deep emerald green that Loki wore all the time.

You cringe, knowing you don't have enough time to change so you take a deep breath and hope he doesn't think it's weird. You open the door and he smiles warmly at you. "Hello darling," he says as you take a step back to let him him.

"Hi Loki, I'm glad you could come over," you say as he takes off his coat. He was wearing a dark gray button up shirt with the first few buttons open.

"Thank you for inviting me," he says as he unbuttons his shirt cuffs and rolls up his sleeves. "I must say, that color looks lovely on you."

You blush at the compliment and before you can reply the timer goes off. "Dinner will be ready in a few minutes, I just need to finish up one more thing," you tell him as you head towards the kitchen.

"Do you need help?" he asks.

"No, I've got it, but if you want..." you walk back to him. "I um... most of my paintings are in there," you point down the hall towards your living area.

After you set the food on the table you go into the living area to tell Loki it was ready. He is standing in front of your favorite painting, it was the first piece you did when you moved to New York City. His arms are crossed but you see a slight smile on his lips, he looks as if he is studying a famous painting at a museum.

"Dinners ready," you tell him, interrupting his thoughts. The two of you talk and joke all throughout dinner. You still weren't sure if he would consider this a date but you didn't care anymore. You had never had this much fun just talking to someone.

After dinner Loki says, "Thank you Y/N, that was the best meal I've had in months." You smile as you get up to clear the plates. "Let me take care of this," he insists, taking your plate from you.

"Are you sure? You don't have to do that," you tell him.

"Don't worry," he smirks, "It'll only take a minute." You look at him curiously and then with a flick of his wrist a green glow surrounds all your dishes, pans and utensils. In an instant they are all clean and stacked neatly on the counter.

You look at him, blinking slowly then say, "You are invited for dinner all the time."

He laughs, "I hope that is because you find me charming and not because I can clean efficiently."

"Is it ok if it's because of both reasons?" you joke. "Oh... I have something for you. I was going to bring it by the Tower after you got back but you're here so..." you say as you walk quickly down the hall to your bedroom.

"Am I supposed to follow you?" he asks clearly confused.

"No, I'll be right back," you tell from your room. You wall excitedly back to the dining area with a large, flat box in your arms.

"What is this?" he asks when you set it on the table and take a step back.

"Open it," you respond nervously. You can feel your heart pounding in your chest, hoping that he will like it.

He opens the side of the box and slides out the canvas slowly, you bite you lip as you watch his expression change. His smile vanishes and his eyes widen as you holds the painting out in front of him. You suddenly fear you've made a mistake but then he turns to face you.

"Y/N," he says quietly, "This is... this is my mother's garden."

You nod, "Is it ok?"

"Ok?" he repeats and you shrug. "Y/N, this is beautiful. I have never received a gift this thoughtful. I- I cannot thank you enough for this," he says.

You smile, thrilled by his reaction. "I'm glad you like it," you tell him as he sets it carefully on the table.

He walks over to you, "I love it Y/N."

He puts one arm around your waist, pulling you close to him and you look up, your eyes meeting his. He touches your cheek lightly with his other hand and you wrap your arms around him. You are sure he can feel your heart beating out of your chest as he smiles at you. He leans down slowly, closing the distance between your lips and his.

When he pulls back a few moments later he says, "I wasn't sure if you meant for tonight to be a date or not but, I would love to take you out Friday night."

You giggle, "I wasn't sure either but I think I'm going to count it now."

He laughs, "Very well, then I would like to take you out on our second date, maybe to one of my favorite museums."

"I would really like," you tell him and he leans down to kiss you again.

Please let me know if you want to be added or taken off the tag list 💚💚

@michelleleewise @soubi001 @ace-of-gay @misunderstoodself @coldnique @lokiprompts @thomase1 @mochie85 @fi-recs-fics @huntress-artemiss @sititran @xorpsbane @kkdvkyya @lokisgoodgirl @harlequin-hangout @muddyorbs @holdmytesseract @kats72 @avoliax @peaches1958 @peachyjinx @loopsisloops @unabashed-lover-of-fictional-men @high-functioning-lokipath @psychospore @dukes2581 @buttercupcookies-blog @animnerd @lokiswife-dark-fox-queen @laufeyson-16 @loki-laufeyson-1054 @pics-and-fanfics @coffeeorsomething-irl @crimson25 @simping-for-marvel @slytherclaw1227 @lokixryss @lokidokieokie @unlucky-number-13 @asuni921 @currish-rosewolfe @elizabethmidnight2017 @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @sunshineangel-reads @eleniblue

Likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated 💚💚

[coffeehighallthetime-blog]

I'm Kind, Not Complacent chpt 7

chpt 7

word count: 2.6k

pairing: gow heimdall x reader, kids!

A/N: hello. I'm sorry this is late, I have been going through it 👉👈 and I'm just trying my best lol. thank you as usual to everyone who likes and comments and thank you for your patience, I hope you enjoy it! there is not much Heimdall content in this chapter but I hope you enjoy hanging out with Freya!

@engardeitsme thank you, lovey for your support I appreciate you endlessly!

@nokolla @lunaryasha, thank you for reading and appreciating my writing! if anyone else would like to be tagged just let me know!. hope you all enjoy!

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Freya’s room was full of natural sunlight. Her windows reached from floor to ceiling, creating triangular shapes through the plant-filled space. Bare wooden beams braided with ivy vines and sweet moss towered high above into the scaffolding, and Yn’s eyes trailed from one to the other, how different breeds of plants dangled from hooks, and spiralled down towards her as if they wanted to greet her.

Yn turned her eyes to Freya's back as she walked around her table, watering her different plants. 

“Go on then, pick up a watering can,” Freya spoke over her shoulder and Yn stiffened at being caught staring around once again before setting her things down and grabbing a pail, dipping it into a deep basin before joining Freya in water the plants around the room.

Yn had been going to lessons with Freya for nearly two months now, and the days always started the same. Freya never came to get her, it was Yn’s responsibility to come to the chamber on time, and if she was late, Freya stated the door would be locked. The goddess had taught her on her first day the importance of caring for the plants, especially since they were going to be taking from them. It must be an equal exchange. As a result, they had spent the first two weeks focusing on the care of Freya’s plants, how to water, how much, what the soil needs to be like for each specimen, feeding carnivorous varieties, pruning dead leaves and shriveled growth, and finally spells to whisper whilst the care is given to promote healthy growth. It had all made the girl's head spin at first, and the goddess didn’t seem to care if she caught up to the information or fell behind. Despite this, Yn quickly picked up the pieces, taking every challenge in stride with a smile on her face.

Freya finished first, sitting to prepare a pot of tea for the two as she watched the girl finish her pruning and watering. In their first few sessions, Yn would rush to finish after seeing Freya had stopped. However, after being scolded about skipping steps, clipping fresh leaves, and underwatering, the girl had learned to ignore what was going on around her and focus on doing a diligent job on her own time.

Freya would wait patiently, brewing tea and setting up the rest of their lesson. She had note cards next to specimens, explaining their names and what they were used for. There were step-by-step instructions on potions, with the ingredients put to the side, and pronunciations of incantations.

“It’s important we look at individual pieces. This way we can distinguish what needs to be added together to get the results we want.” Freya explained as Yn approached, sitting to sip her tea as Freya finished setting up. 

“These are the specimens I had you research last week. I want you to look at each one, and from memory, tell me what each one is used for and how to apply it best.” Yn nodded as she immediately started to examine leaf shapes and textures to sort the different plants, writing her deductions on fresh parchment. Freya gave her this test once a week, and as Yn’s pen moved swiftly against the paper, the goddess could not help the pride that bubbled, nor could she ignore the raven watching them from the rafters, its bright red eye trained on the girl as she flawlessly recited newfound knowledge. Freyr glared up at it from the corner of her eye, a vine whipping to shoo it off its perch,  “After this, we will work on spell pronunciation and if there is time, we will spare until the sun sets.”

“Yes, ma’am.” the girl spoke, focused on her task. Freya raised a brow as the girl started to configure the plants in a pattern of the different characteristics they possessed, and then into the different medicines they could be used for, Including tonics the goddess had not yet taught her. In particular, a medicine using a combination of yarrow and mallow.  Yn looked up to meet Freya’s gaze and smiled sheepishly. “I noticed these are both strong plants for healing and thought they may be good for a wider variety of healing if they were to be combined. Mimir taught me a bit about mallow, which is from here in Asgard, but this is from Vanir, right?” She held up the yarrow and Freya nodded.

“You’re combining ingredients from different realms?”

“O-oh, is that not allowed?” Yn frowned, lowering the plants, grabbing her notes, and flipping to a page for Freya to see her writings. The girl had been doing some of her own research on the combinations of specimens. Freya’s brow furrowed as she read the scribbles. They were conclusions she had come to but never thought to teach the girl for fear it may bring too much attention to her from Odin. 

“ It’s complicated. We are meant to be focusing on Vanir magic for the time being.”

“Ah ok… I just thought… u-m it’s stupid, I’m sorry-” Freya shook her head and smiled, tapping at the girl’s notes.

“Explain it to me.” Yn smiled and explained her process as Freya pushed over the mortar and pestle so they could test the hypothesis. The magic was sound and Freya couldn’t help the smile that kept pulling at her cheeks. The girl was exceptionally bright and used her affinity for logic to aid her in her studies. Odin was right to show an interest in the girl, and that was the true cause for Freya’s want to keep the girl at the basics for as long as possible. Yet despite this, the girl’s intelligence was inspiring and her passion, infectious. For a moment, on these odd mornings during lessons, Freya lost herself in the innocence of the young goddess’s exploration and tried her best to ignore her true reason for being tasked to teach the girl.  

⋆⭒˚｡⋆☾⋆⭒˚｡⋆

“I can’t do this,” Freya whispered to Mimir as they traded the girl for her lessons. The man stiffened slightly, resting a hand on the girl’s shoulder. He smiled down at her and pushed her toward the door. 

“Go set your things down, lass, I’ll be right with ya.” Yn frowned but complied, worried she was in trouble. As the door shut, Mimir whipped to stare down at the goddess.

“That is not for you to decide.”

“She’s just a child.” Freya stood ridged, her fists clenched at her sides as she glared at the satir. Mimir stood his ground, his visage unreadable to her. Freya had always hated his ability to not show his emotions on his face. 

“She’s been given a purpose here, my queen. A purpose bestowed onto her by the All-Father himself. Or have you forgotten?”

“I have forgotten nothing,” she spat, her eyes like hot coals. “I know very well why she’s here and refuse to continue raising another warhorse for him to-

“The girl is bright and strong, and we are only helping her on-”

“So she can be used to kill millions-”

“This is not our choice-”

“There is no choice!” The goddess’s wings flexed out, the feathers rattling as her shoulders shook with rage. Mimir stood like a statue, his bifrost eyes shimmering finally with an emotion Freya could see; sorrow.

“You know as well as I do,” Mimir spoke softly, a melancholic smile on the corner of his lips, “that this is beyond the both of us…” He turned, placing his hand on the door of his study, “every day I am with her, I feel like I am raising my own child… and then leading her to her death…” His eyes pointed into a deep glare as he looked at the goddess over his shoulder, “But I’ll be damned if I don’t equip her with the tools to give her a fighting chance.” 

Mimir opened the door and walked in wordlessly, leaving it open by a hair. Freya could hear the girl on the other side, asking if the goddess was upset with her. 

“Now who could ever be upset with you, little thing.” Mimir’s voice rumbled through the door. Freya peaked through the crack, watching as Mimir ruffled the girl’s hair and her laugh filled her chest and sank to her stomach. 

⋆⭒˚｡⋆☾⋆⭒˚｡⋆

“That’s enough, child,” Freya spoke softly to the girl, setting down her water and sitting on a stool, ushering Yn to do the same. “You are doing well. I don’t even need to keep an eye on you, anymore.”

“Thank you, Ms. Freya,” Yn spoke softly as she pulled herself onto her stool. She picked up the teapot sitting at the wooden table and slowly poured some into the goddess’s cup before filling her own. “Do you think I’ll be ready to learn spells soon?” Freya hummed and sipped her tea, the steam whsiping up into the rafters. 

“Possibly. How do you feel about pronunciation?” the girl shuffled slightly in her seat, pouring honey into her cup.

“I’ve been practicing every morning and night, miss. I really do think I’m ready. I-I’ve been excited to start spells as I have been working hard on potions and medicine a-and want to start on new lessons so that I can be of use to the All-Father sooner-”

“Why do you want to learn magic, Yn.” the girl paused, her cup hovering just below her lips. 

“Well… I thought that’s why I was here.” she lowered her cup, letting the warmth of the cup heat her hands. “Mimir a-and the All-Father-”

“I did not ask what the two old men want, or why we need to be in this room together for two hours every other day,” Freya spoke, her face like a stone as she looked down at the girl. Yn swallowed dryly, setting her cup down and staring down at her knees. Freya frowned, and tucked a finger under the girl’s chin, tilting her head up for their eyes to meet. “I’m asking why you want to be here…why do you stay…” 

Yn stared up into Freya’s eyes, feeling a sense of calm rush over her. Her shoulders relaxed and she stared back at the goddess, her vision steady.

“I want to know….” Freya smiled, releasing her chin 

“Know what?” she asked, crossing her arms. 

“I want to know… about the world. About my place in it. I want to know how to be an actual deity. Someone who can be strong enough to protect people, to protect Vanaheim, as you did…I can’t do that if I don’t even know the extent of what I am. Goddess of peace who only knows how to manipulate…goddess of logic who thinks too much with her heart…” Freya listened in silence, letting the girl speak before resting a hand on her shoulder, squeezing lightly. 

“There are always more sides to a god than originally known. I am the goddess of love and family, but I am also the goddess of war.” the girl nodded slowly, wrapping her head around the idea there may be more to her than even she knew.

“S-so you are saying those opposites… may be a part of me for a reason? That could be…full of chaos and madness?” the girl trembled at the thought, her skin going pale. Freya frowned, setting down her own cup and resting a hand on her lap. 

“Possibly, but possibly not.” Freya’s voice was strong and caring, her eyes focused on the girl’s, “But just because they are, does not make you a goddess to be feared. Two sides of a coin just help to have a deeper understanding of oneself.” the girl still couldn’t stop the tremble in her hands but looked up to meet the goddess’s gaze, her breath steadying. Freya closed her hands around the girl’s. “We will figure everything out together. I promise.” Yn swallowed and slipped out of her stool, hugging Freya around the waist and burying her face in the woman’s stomach. Freya wrapped her arms around the girl, squeezing her tightly. She  couldn’t help the hot coal sinking down her throat and settling in the pit of her stomach, knowing she was bound to both teach the girl and tell Odin about every instance of growth until she was what he envisioned her to be. They were all nothing but puppets in the end. 

⋆⭒˚｡⋆☾⋆⭒˚｡⋆

“Mimir?”

“Hm?”

“Do you think I’m dangerous?”

The man froze mid-stride, looking down at the girl beside him, her hand clasped in his as they walked to supper. She frowned at his stiffness and looked away, tugging him down the hall.

“It’s ok… I guess I already knew the answer…” Mimir didn’t budge, pulling the girl gently back next to him and crouching down to her level. Yn looked at her feet, and when the satir tried to meet her gaze, she turned to avoid it. 

“Lass, look at me.” When her head didn’t budge he tilted her head up and had to hold in a chuckle at the weak glare pointed at him. “Now what’s all this about?” she shuffled her feet, kicking up dust. 

“ I don’t want to be a bad god…” She whispered, her hands wringing at the hem of her tunic. “Freya said I may be a goddess with more sides… meant to be able to manipulate and cause chaos… but I don’t want to be those things, I don’t want people to be scared of me.” She pushed, looking up at the man. “She said that it’ll be ok… but I still wanted to tell you because I don’t want you to think you should be scared…” Mimir sighed and shook his head with a smile. 

“How could I ever be scared of you, sweet girl?” She huffed softly, rubbing her eyes. 

“I don’t know…” he stood back up, ushering her with a hand to her back. 

“Come on then. What say you we start with dessert tonight?”

“Really?”

“Sure! Just uh, don’t tell the queen.”

The girl hummed in agreement, but despite Mimir’s words and promise of sweets, she couldn’t stop the new knowledge of what she may be fester inside her, letting it fill her with dread. Freya had wanted to teach her, a Mimir had wanted to reassure, but really all they did was leave the girl with more fear and unanswered questions.

⋆⭒˚｡⋆☾⋆⭒˚｡⋆

For the first night in a while, Heimdall had been able to sleep peacefully without the overbearing ring of noises from the lodge keeping him awake. He lay curled in his furs, soft puffs of air passing past his lips as his chest raised and fell in a slow gentle rhythm. A knock and rattle of his door stirred him awake. He groaned, throwing the covers over his head, hoping they were lingering sounds that would soon dissipate as he fell deeper into the sleep. Maybe it was a drunk trying to get into his room downstairs or across the hall. There was silence and then another set of knocks, followed by a quiet voice whispering his name through the door. Heimdall frowned, his brows furrowing as he rubbed the sleep from his face. He slowly willed himself to sit up and looked over at his door, listening closer.

“Heimdall…” the voice trembled, “C-can I please come in?” the boy’s feet carried him to the door before he fully knew what he was doing, and he opened to meet glassy eyes staring back at him. Yn’s face brightened despite the tear stains, and she rubbed her eyes.

“I'm sorry, I know you were sleeping well and I didn’t want to-“

“Just,” he sighed, grabbing her wrist. “Come in so I can get back to sleep.” He didn’t let her respond, dragging her into his bed and laying his head back on his pillow, holding the covers open for her. Yn sniffled softly, and laid down next to him, letting his warmth slowly calm her. “What’s wrong.” He mumbled, his eyes already closed. Yn looked up at his face, how he was already starting to doze off. He had truly come a long way, and under other circumstances, she would have smiled. 

“I’m worried I may be a bad god.”

“There is no such thing as a bad god, only weak underlings” he grunted, wrapping his arms around her waist and resting his chin on the top of her head. She hummed, expecting an answer akin to this from the Aesir, still, it didn’t ease her.

“Still… I think people here are afraid of me… most of the maids won’t even look at me and the einherjar avoid me on the sparing grounds a-and even in the great hall…even at breakfast!…” she swallowed. “W-what if Mimir or Freya-”

“Anyone afraid of you is either brainless, “he spoke through a yawn, “or a coward. Now go to sleep.”

“Are you afraid of me?”

“Am I brainless or a coward?”

“No-” 

“There you go.”

“Hm…” the girl smiled slightly, rubbing her eyes and yawning as she settled in the bed. “But do you dislike me?”

“If I disliked you would I wake up in the middle of the night and waste my precious sleep hours consoling your idiotic claims.” She didn’t respond and this was answer enough. He huffed through his nose, pulling the covers closer. “Go to bed, songbird.” She buried her head in his chest, sighing with a tired smile.

“Thank you, weasel…”

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

[willowisapillow]

🎊🎉 A Peachy New Year! 🎉🎊

💕❤️ They’re girlfriends, your honor ❤️💕

Behold, another piece of fanart that I’ve kept pushing back until now.

I was planning on drawing this earlier back in January, but some complications occurred with both IbisPaint and my tablet once again, and one mishap after another, half of my files for the art got wiped somehow when my tablet crashed for the 104897th time, and I had to start from scratch.

A very similar problem occurred with one of my Pride Month pics from last year, and this time I just said, “screw it, I can’t be bothered to finish this”, and took a long-ass break and moved on to other art projects. Eventually, I did come around and finished it in the end.

2023 was honestly just a rollercoaster ride of ups and downs. It started off bad, then it was eh, and it ended… not really great good per se, but decent. I had to miss out on a lot of art projects because I was doing online school at that time, but since I graduated way back in June, I have a lot of free time on my hands and I have a lot of exciting plans in the future ^o^

One positive of this year I have so far is that I finally watched the Super Mario Movie. As per tradition of me being slower than molasses, I watched the movie on Netflix, and I absolutely LOVED it! The whole movie was literally what little me imagined a Mario movie would be like, and the movie just was a whole lot of fun. I especially loved the references/easter eggs in the movie, I was just fangirling so much 😭

And once the DK Rap came on I just started singing along like there was no tomorrow. And funny story, at one point, my mom actually walked by my room, overheard my singing, and gave me a funny look as if she thought I was going crazy, which she wasn’t wrong/hj

I could go on and on about how I love this movie, but we’d be here all day, so I’ll just say my two absolute favorite things about this movie. My first fave is obviously Peach, I’m so happy that my girl isn’t being portrayed as a damsel-in-distress, and is instead an active team leader, she was just absolutely iconic. And my second favorite thing is Bowser. Jack Black has always been one of my favorite actors/comedians, so it was a perfect decision for Illumination to have him voice Bowser. He’s the perfect blend of comedic and threatening, he gave me a lot of Hades from Hercules vibes haha

As for the art, I went with the dark-skinned, red-haired version of Bowsette, which imo is better than the regular version. One, it makes sense to give her dark skin because she lives in a place that’s nothing but fire and lava, and two, Bowser is canonically a ginger not a blondie lol

And for Peach, I drew her in her movie dress but also combined it with her winter/holiday earmuffs and cloak. Also wanted to give her the Princess Peach Showtime bow because I’m still hyped for that game >:3

Here’s to hoping this year will be great, good, or at the very least decent 🎉

[voltstone]

…so about that clementine comic: a (very long, sorry) essay (May 2022)

Getting around to writing this little essay of mine, putting my thoughts down before the comic comes out, has been like finally squashing the damn fly that’s been a nuisance for months. Like, half-a-year-ago months.

Before I get to it, I’m just going to preface and briefly explain what this essay is: it’s me more or less digesting this big change for the TWDG fandom, and articulating a bigger point with canon vs fandom—and just how weird TWDG actually is in how it fits with that bigger point.

That, and it’s an essay that was spurred by my irritation of the comic’s premise alone. To be transparent, this is an essay that’s biased. Clementine as a character means a lot to me, which should become evident given that I use myself (i.e my Clementine) as an example throughout this thing, and then there’s just my fondness of the games. So yeah. I’m biased. But, I’d like to think of myself as a storyteller (in progress) in my own right, so hopefully this essay will be able to articulate my grievances with the comic, and do it well—while still being as unbiased as possible, to boot.

In any case, being that the comic isn’t out yet, I would like to say that I’m not going to tear Tillie nor Skybound a new one. I’m just critical of the premise, to the point that I wish to essay. And it be long (…sorry, can’t help it; neurodivergent passion and all that).

Though because I’m not here to harp on my grievances and bulldoze something that isn’t even out yet, I’m going to meme a little too. Just to ensure that the essay maintains a civil but fun composure. ;)

[Why Comic?]

Okay, so, originally, this was going to be the last section of this essay, but now it’s the first. Because of one article. Lol.

Well, one possible article? Something like that. (Yeah no not really. I am a dumbass, but I’m a dumbass with a point that still stands in this section. Lol.)

Before we get into the article, however, it’s first important to discuss Skybound in relation to TWD and TWDG.

Skybound, or Skybound Entertainment (2010), is Robert Kirkman’s company where the overarching purpose is to provide space for creators with their intellectual property and, well, to create. Which is great! We love that. And this is Robert Kirkman, who, is the storyteller behind TWD, alongside Invincible, Outcast, and a slew of many others.

Skybound Entertainment itself is older than TWDG by two years, so the company has watched Telltale’s story develop since the beginning. And given that it has Kirkman at the helm, there are strong ties between Telltale, Skybound and TWDG that go way back. However, they are considered two separate companies—even with some history of collaboration on TWDG. But, by the time Telltale had to close-up shop, it’s unsurprising that Skybound—through Skybound Games, established in 2018—picked up where they left off—and they did this, from what I’ve found anyway, by giving the team behind TWDG the resources to finish Clementine’s story.

In short, Skybound has just as much skin in the game(s) as the chance of a walker being seen still in one piece, without chunks sloughing off: slim, but more probable than you’d think.

And this isn’t to blame Skybound in any way. It’s just how it is. Telltale had the rights to their series up until mid-Season Four: The Final Season (S4), and S4 was finished by the same team, just with Skybound’s resources (and probably with some of their own team as well).

…the thing is, however, is that Skybound seems to be more like the babysitter for Clementine rather than the parent who has nurtured and watched her grow. They still do care for her and what this character represents—the 10th year anniversary with the documentary and #clemenTEN (lol) shows that quite plainly—, but they never had the time and opportunity to truly nurture her, as a company, in the same way that Telltale had.

Ergo, Skybound is going to make decisions with Clementine that those more familiar with the character may not do—especially given that Skybound has other series and such that they’re working on.

Which brings us back to the article I came across in a meme. This article. 

…which I can’t find? Yeah, I’ve tried to search for it on Skybound’s website, but…yeah no. I have questions if it has been removed, and if it hasn’t, please, someone, tell me where it is so that I can put the link in here. Lol.

[5/20/22 Edit: May not be able to find it because the article never existed or something something where a doodoohead on the internet, like, lied to me?! Making me another shatforbrains. However, it doesn’t really change my point in all of this. So yay. Also am not gonna edit anything because I don’t wanna.]

Anyway. In summary, Skybound announces in this article, “After some internal discussions and some reviews of fan feedback and online, [. . .] Clementine: Book One takes place in an alternate continuity that is no longer directly canon to Telltale’s the Walking Dead series [as] we now see that fans prefer to have their player choices honored in future storylines of Clementine.”

And here’s my response to that, regardless of wherever the article may be: thanks, but no shit, Skybound.

This essay is here to pick apart TWDG in terms of interpretation and what that would mean regarding any sort of adaptation. But ultimately, it is to criticize whoever thought this was a good idea and maintained the comic’s stance of canonicity with TWDG until recently. Because…as I will make very clear in the next two sections, I don’t know how anybody could’ve looked at this story, as a part of a company who wasn’t there to tell it until the end, and came to the initial conclusion that they did. It both confuses and bothers me.

Skybound. TWDG are a choose-your-own adventure story. What do you mean “we now see that fans prefer to have their player choices honored”?! That is the whole point of TWDG: I made a choice with this character, let’s see how it plays out. To the extent where people often have criticisms that Telltale didn’t allow for much impact with said choices.

So yes. I ask this given that I…genuinely don’t understand how this happened. And perhaps I’m a little late with this, but, well, I still feel the need to air everything out for myself, and explain thoroughly why I do not appreciate the comic on a basic level. One, because I think it’s an interesting subject regardless; I go into Clementine functionally as a character, fanfiction being a skill, etc. Two, if there is a chance (a very slight chance that I highly doubt will happen, lol) that anybody associated with the comic’s production sees this, it will (maybe?) serve as both the perspective of a fan and of a developing storyteller. …and perhaps a little jab of “please don’t pull something like this again, with anything.”

I am going to maintain that I don’t have ill-respect towards Skybound. Because I do respect them as a company; outside of this, I appreciate a lot of their work.

This Clementine comic has just left a bitter taste.

I also don’t blame Tillie Walden either, nor do I envy her position. All I can do is point towards my main TWDG fic and say that's the best I can do, which even then would have probably led to backlash of the fandom. Continuing Clementine's story, no matter what, would've always received some level of backlash. Which is kind of what happens after you wrap up a story with a neat bow, and then decide to try and cut it back open. If anything, as I discuss in this, the most I can blame Walden with is being reckless about Clementine’s story. Nothing more.

Ultimately, I find that Skybound underestimated the gravity of Clementine and what she means to people—which says a lot considering that I do think Skybound knows her impact on the video game industry. (And, on top of the history with Telltale and TWDG.)

I doubt that there was sufficient planning for this. I doubt they knew what kind of story they wanted, hence why they gave it to Walden. I doubt their decisions weren’t to cut corners—away from the nuanced, TWDG canonicity. I doubt that their intentions had nothing to do with the cash cow that Clementine is.

But, mainly, I doubt that they knew how to work around Clementine’s nature. Because, functionally, Clementine is a rather confusing character. She’s not the first, and hardly the last, character with Telltale-like qualities, though I do think that Skybound found themselves in new territory because of those qualities. To be honest, I genuinely wonder how Skybound sees Clementine. Do they see her as one singular, whole character? Or do they see her as one character made up of many, many interpretations? Or rather, slices…

Regardless, I feel like the majority of the backlash wouldn’t have occurred if Skybound didn’t maintain that this comic would be canon in the first place. That this is what Clementine does at the end, no questions asked. If they had said that the comic would be one iteration of what Clementine does after TWDG, how many people would be upset? If the games and shows and comics are all different from one another, why didn’t they say that the Clementine comic would be different from the games? Especially given that the games take a choose-your-own-adventure approach.

You could almost say that this comic is not very Telltale of Skybound.

[What…is This? (Brief Rant)]

Alright. Now we get into rant time.

…but first another detour. Let’s acknowledge the games as they are:

As a whole, TWDG stand as the story of Clementine. The odd seasons—Season One (S1) and Season Three: A New Frontier (S3)—are through outside perspectives, those being Lee and Javi. The even seasons—Season Two (S2) and S4—are through Clementine herself. But to explain what that story is, I think it’s better to shift the perspective a little bit. To her signature ballcap.

Because rather than Clementine’s story, TWDG is the story of Clementine’s hat.

The ballcap being the only thing she has of her home from before given that it was her father’s. The ballcap is the symbol of family.

So let’s shift again:

TWDG is the story of Clementine searching for a home, a family.

S1. Clementine dawns her father’s ballcap, borrowing it until her parents return from their trip. But, of course, they don’t, so Lee becomes her surrogate throughout the season. She’s able to have a father-figure for the first half-year in the apocalypse. Even so, much like the hat, Lee is temporary. Clementine wants to find her parents. Though come to find, they’re dead, and so too her surrogate swiftly after.

So Clementine is left without her original family, nor the one from the motel.

S2. The season of chaos—all to bring Clementine to a breaking point. She had Omid and Christa, a small family for quite some time, until they were lost. Omid, to her neglected gun, and then Christa, who was detached from Clementine, leaving S2 Clementine (at 11) with her first line, “Talk to me, Christa.” The woman’s fate remains to be debated, something unknown to Clementine, after they were ambushed and then separated alongside a river in the woods.

There’s then a new group—a potential family—who she travels with. And along the way, Clementine finds a remnant of her old, motel family: Kenny. One by one, the potential family succumbs to the winter—including Rebecca, but not before she gives birth to A.J, yet another ray of hope. By the end, A.J is believed to be dead, and Clementine is once again ignored. The remnant of an old family is at odds with the last of the potential—Kenny and Jane—, and they mean to fight to the death. Between them, Clementine is shoved away, quite literally, despite her shoulder having been shot, and, well, despite Clementine being a child who needed both.

So Clementine reaches a breaking point where she is the deciding factor between which lives: the last old family remnant, or the last of the potential family, or neither. And afterwards, once it is discovered that A.J is, in fact, alive—but was hidden to prove Jane’s point—, she can then decide if she wants to abandon the remaining family to live with her own. A.J…

S3. Regardless of how S2 ends, Clementine finds her way to Richmond alone with varying scars. A.J is still with her, though it’s made clear that she is getting tired—especially with a S2 solo ending. Because raising a kid is a lot to handle, more so when the parent is a kid herself. An offer to join a group comes in the form of Ava, who is a part of the New Frontier. Clementine eventually joins whether or not the initial offer is accepted (i.e. whether or not Clementine is open to joining a group, or not), in order for her to find the medicine needed for A.J, who falls ill.

Conflict arises between her desire to nurture A.J and serve this new, military “family”.

And Clementine is kicked out, once again under the belief that A.J is dead. So by the time we meet her as Javi, we find a Clementine who is hardened, and bitter. Or, a Clementine who’s a scorned kid with the identity of an adult, and a mom.

Through S3, Javi (and/or Gabe) is the one to remind Clementine that she doesn’t have to be alone. She discovers that A.J survived his illness, and with some help, Clementine discovers where he is and aims to reunite with her only family.

S4. After McCarroll Ranch, where A.J was kept, they’re on the road (with a car!). Clementine has found a way to survive with A.J, and has matured since the prior season. They find a new group (the car thing doesn’t last long in this, lol): the school kids.

And through them, Clementine and A.J find their home, in the end. The school kids teach A.J the lessons that Clementine couldn’t, and Clementine teaches them the skills to defend themselves against raiders—who are led by the final remnant of her old family, Lilly.

Clementine is bitten, however.

In her presumed final moments, she consoles A.J as Lee had done with her. But, no matter what, A.J disobeys Clementine’s request. Because A.J is not Clementine, and his love for his surrogate prevails the need to live on. He tells her that they could be like the walkers in the train station—tied to the spot, together in death. And not a minute later, he severs her leg, saving Clementine.

Weeks later, she gives the ballcap to A.J, for Clementine no longer needs it. The past is behind her, set in stone. She has found what she’s been searching for. Rather than a motel, it’s a boarding school. Rather than Lee and her, it’s Clementine and A.J.

Rather than a normal life alongside a treehouse, it’s set in a time where the dead roam, with a fishing house nearby.

Clementine is now on her last leg, but as S4 closes, it’s the beginning of a new life…

With these games and Clementine’s arc laid out, I have to be honest. I never wanted a continuation. Both as a fan of Clementine and as a writer, I feel that a continuation for Clementine would never be the best choice for a comic series. Especially when there’s so many gaps where we didn’t see Clementine.

That, and of course, S4 was perfect in wrapping TWDG up—with a little bow and all.

Now, to clarify before the essay gets into S4 in more detail, what I mean by continuation is what happens after. Yes, a lot of people would want to know, but here’s the thing: like in any sport, you need to end on your prime. S4 was just that for TWDG.

But I get it. At the same time, I do think having Clementine in her own comic would be perfect for her. TWD started out in the comics. By having the TWDG character recognized in this way would be to give the utmost, ultimate respect for Clementine within TWD universe(s).

If the comics expanded on the what happens after, then a choose-your-own-adventure comic should’ve been done to respect TWDG’s format. But, they could have easily expanded on things that, well, we’re curious about. Between S1 and S2—what happened? You could have Clementine be quiet and never talk about what exactly happened to Lee (if he was shot vs left behind). And this is in-line with set Clementine’s character given that remarks on her “being a puzzle” and keeping to herself were made throughout S1. So, that even leaves room for a comic that isn’t choose-your-own-adventure. Especially since Clementine is a strong enough character to not be the focal perspective. She is a strong side-character—in part because that is how she started off. So, a comic between the first seasons could’ve been from Christa’s perspective.

Between the other seasons. What about in the New Frontier? What did Clementine do? What did she learn from a bunch of ex-military surviving in the apocalypse? What about with A.J? What did they do together before they got to Ericson’s?

And outside Clementine’s story?

Kenny, between S1 and S2. The whole S2 squad—I want to see how Nick shot his mom, which traumatized him to the point of drinking in front of a kid. Carver! Christa and Omid before they met the S1 group! Lilly! What did she do?! How did she surpass the boat god and ended up with the boat?! How did she get into child labor?! (Not the pregnancy type, the— Okay, okay, never mind.)

And the school kids. What happened?! There were around forty at the start (according to the wiki), how did it get down to ten? Of course, Minnie and Sophie are a given, but that still leaves a lot of room. How did a bunch of troubled youth manage to survive?

And guess what?! That could’ve been done through Aasim! He has been writing a “chronicle” (diary) in the games, so why not go with that?! (Could even have a bombass title with chronicle in it!!)

Speaking of the school kids, let’s go back to S4.

Because this season is a mark of how TWDG understood a crucial lesson every writer must learn: when to end a story. How to end a story.

S4 is a masterpiece in this regard. And I don’t throw around masterpiece often. So I do mean it here; literally the only true criticism I have of S4 is how the nostalgia over Lee probably got in the way. (I mean, I know his impact, but the dude has been dead for all of A.J’s life plus a year or so.)

So yeah. And that is a nit-picky criticism at best.

Because S4, uh, like I just said, is a masterpiece in concluding Clementine’s arc.

First of all, can we just appreciate the setting itself?

Starting with the train station. The train from S1 was, arguably, where the brightest moments between Lee and Clementine happened. This is where, after losing Katjaa and Duck, Lee teaches Clementine how to shoot a gun, cuts her hair short, and—at another station—the first moment of fighting together and putting those skills to use. The train also led to Savannah.

So, really, where the train is symbolic of the birth of Clementine’s independency, it’s interesting that a train station leads to the school kids. The end of Clementine’s independency alone, with A.J, and the beginning of her independency as a leader.

Then we have the school.

For one thing, it’s the perfect little place for an apocalypse. Walls. Resources for food—from hunting, fishing, to a greenhouse. Land…

And, of course, it was established that Clementine liked school. Sure, she probably was bored since Clementine strikes me as a really smart individual, but she did like it. And Lee was a fucking professor. And, and, the school kids are around her age; kids around Clementine’s age…kinda don’t last in this story. So again, pretty symbolic that a boarding school is the setting.

On top of that, it’s a boarding school for troubled youth. Which…by this point, Clementine kind of fits that bill. (At least, my Clementine very much so does.)

The troubled youth element adds so much to this. It plays with many of the things introduced in this season: such as mental health (like Clementine being afraid of Rosie, though I do think they should’ve pushed that a little further). Because, think about it. The kids were left behind by the adults responsible for them. So what does that mean? Well, it means that they had to find ways to cope with their struggles in order to survive. Like Louis with his confidence, Violet with her abandonment issues, Ruby and Marlon with their anger, Brody with her anxiety, and so on and so forth.

Honestly, I don’t think there was a more perfect setting for S4 to go with.

Clementine has trauma. She has a lot of it. If anything, Clementine probably used that #roadlyfe to run away from confronting it. How so? Well, when you’re on the road constantly, hopping from place-to-place—by foot or with a car—, while taking care of your kid, there’s not a lot of opportunity to dwell on the past and truly unpack what is being harbored. I wouldn’t be surprised if Clementine used that as a sort of coping mechanism.

I also wouldn't be a surprise if that was part of why Clementine and A.J were on the road for so long. To be driving around for years is…a fucking long time in an apocalypse. Given that she would've needed to scrounge around for gas, Clementine would've come across other pre-Outbreak stuff, if not established settlements with people. Other things may have happened, sure, but that is something to consider.

But, yeah. Where S4 left off, there still would be some things that Clementine would have to process through. There would be a story there, albeit short. Arguably perfect for a comic trilogy where she reflects on the things we didn't get to see—like in-between the seasons.

Before we go too deep with that though, here’s another few things that this season taps into:

It was the first time we encounter a Whisperer in TWDG, and with James the question of whether or not walkers are inherently bad. Or rather, if they're monstrosities versus just another element of nature, albeit as a symbol of decay.

It was the first time we saw Clementine with a dog since S2—a Pit bull at that, one who isn't violent or terrifying because Rosie is a good girl and will only attack people who are bad.

Oh, Clementine doesn't need to worry about car insurance.

(No, but seriously, Clementine has a very bad driving record. She crashes two cars, three with Kenny, potentially one for each season after S1.)

And, of course, Clementine finally being bit. Thus putting “I’m still. Not. Bitten” to rest. (Although, “It’ll take more than a bite to kill me!” sounds pretty fun.)

Back to Clementine’s leg and what it means with that #roadlyfe. For one, Clementine is now, more or less, stuck in one place. She has to rely on people again, while leading them. And now that she is in one place, there’s opportunity to watch Clementine as she builds her own settlement.

With S4’s conclusion, questions were raised about how much hope there was for that settlement. Which could be answered with Kent Mundle’s response to the following anon question.

(At the end, there will be a link to Kent Mudle's stuff, including his comic Beret. Because why not?)

S4’s end is hopeful, and the beginning of change for Clementine. No longer is she a straggler on the road. She has graduated to survival within a community.

But…, as much as I love the ray of hope, we do have to acknowledge that Clementine, after her #roadlyfe, would probably have a very difficult time with this change. She is not used to relying on others. She is not used to having one leg, being kept on the sidelines watching other people deal with walkers, nor having to sit and confront all of what she has suffered.

So, yes, I will recognize that there could be conflict to explore with Clementine adjusting from being on the road to staying in one place, and maybe feeling that she isn’t doing enough for the boarding school given her leg. I can see scenarios where Clementine may act a little reckless, like leave the school to try and thin-out a (small) herd to help. With her one leg. And the school kids have to go and drag her back.

But not with Clementine leaving.

So now, with S4 concluded, we have the comic itself…

Clementine is back on the road, looking to put her traumatic past behind her and forge a new path all her own. But when she comes across an Amish teenager named Amos with his head in the clouds, the unlikely pair journeys North to an abandoned ski resort in Vermont, where they meet up with a small group of teenagers attempting to build a new, walker-free settlement. As friendship, rivalry, and romance begin to blossom amongst the group, the harsh winter soon reveals that the biggest threat to their survival…might be each other.

(This is "brief" rant time. Lol.)

What.

The ever-loving.

Fuck is that??

That is bad. That is really, really bad on a fundamental level. Notice the following: “looking to put her traumatic past behind her and forge a new path all on her own”, “journeys North to an abandoned ski resort”, “the harsh winter soon reveals that the biggest threat to their survival…might be each other”, and then, of course, “a small group of teenagers attempting to build a new, walker-free settlement.”

What does that look like? Premise alone, does this sound familiar to you?

It should.

Because everything from this summary—aside from the last quote—is S2.

This comic is not throwing away the last season. No. Oh no, it’s not.

This comic is rewriting Clementine’s journey, except this time, without A.J. But, from what has been released thus far, there will be an emphasis on Lee—S1 stuff. Which uh… Yeah. This is, quite literally, erasing all of TWDG.

So no. No. You can’t just reskin Clementine’s whole fucking story as if A.J never existed. You can’t just pretend that Clementine didn’t already forge a new path with the trauma from S1 behind her; you can’t just pretend that she didn’t already travel north with a band of new people to an abandoned ski resort; you can’t just pretend that she didn’t already find herself in a cruel winter where the walkers were literally the secondary threat to her. And, for the love of a writer’s integrity, you cannot just sit there and smear S4 as if Clementine would trade Ericson’s for another settlement—a settlement, which, would probably serve as an uneasy environment for her given that the last ski resort she went to was where she was kidnapped and immediately sent to work for Carver. Not to mention that, unless you had her journey with Kenny who was desperate to get to Wellington, Clementine went south the first chance she got because S2 was traumatic enough to send her immediately towards Richmond—not. North. There is no fucking reason why Clementine would want to go north. Ever. S2 left that impression on her: North = bad, we don’t like snow.

Like there is a fucking reason why S3 had so much fire, so much warmth to it—including the flashbacks. (Outside of Wellington, of course.) The last thing Clementine needs is to be reminded of how she got the big ass scar on her arm and the bullet wound at her shoulder.

And.

For the love of a writer’s competency.

You cannot just put a little stupid beanie on her head with a dumb little ball to replace the old hat—though thanks for leaving the ballcap with A.J, at least.

This is what I mean by the comic disappointing me as a fan of Clementine, but pissing me off as a writer. As I said before, something that every writer will have to learn is when to end a story. Those behind S4 understood that, and they did so masterfully. Now, I can’t tear apart the comic for that since, well, what’s going to come out this summer is the first of a trilogy. So like…yeah.

However, another thing that every writer will have to learn is when to evolve a story. When a character’s arc has been satisfied, and how the story thereafter will take on a new path. TWDG do this. Between S1 and S2, the change was shifting the story from Lee to Clementine. Between S2 and S3, the change was shifting Clementine from a character still needing others for survival to a character who knows how to survive on her own—to the point where Javi needed to remind her the value in putting trust/faith in others. And then, S3 to S4, the change was shifting from a bitter, angry Clementine without A.J to a Clementine who has matured, become cautiously weathered, with A.J by her side. Despite its flaws, this game series also managed to do this masterfully as well.

And the comic.

Does not.

Do that.

The comic doesn’t want to evolve the story. It doesn’t want to explore what conflicts would arise from Clementine finally being stuck in one place after so many years without a designated home, and being a fresh amputee on top of that. There was absolutely a story to explore there.

But no.

We got this.

Instead, we got a story where the comic blatantly ignores that Clementine already has a settlement of her own, and how the whole of TWDG is her forged path. And on the “put her traumatic past behind her”?! Yes! She absolutely needs to do that! But where has all of that trauma come from?! The road! So putting her back on the road—a few weeks—

The comic is set a few weeks later, by the way. (The wiki says so, anyway. I don’t 100% buy it, but it still seems like she shouldn’t be walking on a new amputated leg regardless.)

But to say that and put her back on the road a few weeks later—her leg is healed?!—is the last fucking thing you want for a person like Clementine with her experiences to do. It is the equivalent of telling a war veteran to overcome their PTSD by plopping them right back in the trenches. Or telling any PTSD-survivor to cope with it by plopping them into the environment that’s the source of said PTSD in the first place.

And sure. Some people don’t have the opportunity to do that. Sometimes that environment is the only place they have open to them.

Like the road was for Clementine.

Until she got to the school.

So are you. Fucking. Kidding me?!

Clementine is no longer the person who doesn’t have the chance to get out of the source of her PTSD—the road. She has a settlement of school kids at a school for troubled youth. Let’s remind ourselves that these kids had to learn how to manage their mental illnesses and behaviors given that they needed to survive after their caretakers abandoned them. They would’ve absolutely had the tools to help her.

Oh, and let’s also remind ourselves how devastating it would be for Clementine to abandon the school. Every single one of the kids probably have abandonment issues because of the adults. What’s more?!

Violet.

One of the two potential romantic interests for Clementine. Regardless of that, however, here is a character who has arguably the most significance to the plot of S4 no matter your choices. Violet is who is closely associated with Minnie, neck-and-neck to Tenn. Violet is the one who had the most conflict between both Marlon and Brody because of it, and is the one that sticks up for Clementine and A.J. She also is the one who takes leadership when Clementine and A.J are voted out. If you save her, Violet sees Minnie alive and realizes how twisted around she was about her; later on, she shoots Minnie with a crossbow to save Clementine, without hesitation, and then the last fight is where it’s a choice between her and Tenn. If you don’t save Violet, she ends up getting manipulated and twisted around further by Minnie (and Lilly, lol), and then acts as an antagonist on the boat as well.

This is by no means undermining Louis’ character as the other love interest, by the way. His role in the plot is quieter in large part because a) it felt to me that S4 was the first push towards his development, not a full arc like Violet (which isn’t bad in itself), and b) while Violet played a bigger role as leader, Louis was kind of pushed aside because he was morning and purposefully distant (again, not bad in itself).

The point is, it’s evident that Violet is the school kid with the strongest character leverage in terms of plot.

Which is why I’m using her specifically to show how fucking dumb it is for Clementine to abandon the school kids.

Violet has had abandonment issues since before she got to the school; Violet was abandoned by her grandmother who killed herself right behind her back, and then, presumably, her parents neglected her one way, shape or form. And then we have how this was probably exacerbated with Minnie—given that she thought she was dead, and, if you save Violet, knowing that Minnie was alive the whole time yet didn’t go back for her would’ve, I don’t know, pushed her abandonment issues further. Of course, if you saved Louis, then Violet with her abandonment issues is a given.

So uh. What. Are you. Doing?! Why?!

Actually, no, I don’t need to ask.

The comic took the route of cutting corners. The idea to continue Clementine’s story blossomed, and Skybound sprang on the opportunity. However, which is what this essay will discuss in depth, they realized how huge of an undertaking this actually is. So they didn’t even try to bottleneck every Clementine, every ending, into one comic—nor try to develop a choose-your-own-adventure series.

They threw away TWDG’s whole story because it was too difficult for them. Even though they are writers. And that is their job…

Now, before I go further, I will say that I am not going to go with the idea that this is all Tillie’s doing and Skybound just greenlit it. For one thing, the comic is also Skybound’s responsibility. They can easily approve or disprove what they want to come out of their company. Two, I don’t think it’s fair to dogpile on one writer for taking a job—especially this one since, again, it’s a huge undertaking—, nor when that writer has written some fair stories before. So as you read this essay, do note that I am not here to drag Tillie down or anything. I’m not happy with the comic, for sure, and I have a lot to criticize from the premise alone, absolutely, but I’m not going demonize a creator for something I can just ignore with my own fanfiction. Lol.

At its core, I doubt the comic understands the games at a fundamental level. Not Clementine’s arc, nor the school’s importance. It’s jarring, honestly, looking at the summary and looking at Kent’s response to the anon question. I don’t believe for a second that anybody from the game’s development actually took part in evaluating the comic. That, and if anything, I believe that if Tillie has played the games to prepare for this, the basic concept of the comics were already realized. Because I can’t imagine anyone could feasibly end the games, knowing that they’d have to continue with the story, with the conclusion that this would be the right step to take. And if that’s how it happened then…well, I learn something new every day.

It is a cash grab, something that plays into the insecurity of letting a story end.

However, as the high of my rant recedes, this isn’t to say that the comic will be a horrible experience. Because I do not know. It’s not out yet. Lol.

(Other than the first chapter which is…um, fine? I guess? Outside of acknowledge that exploring an Amish community within this world is actually very interesting, I’m not going to go into it. Don’t feel like it.)

Perhaps there will be some elements that will be good. Things that people would potentially incorporate into future stuff—assuming that TWDG will have future stuff to offer. It’s just unfortunate that the story has laid itself on a foundation that won’t viably stand the test of time. The concept and framework alone is terrible, and from experience, if the concept itself is terrible, if the story is fundamentally broken, there won’t be much you can do to fix it. Other than, well, scrap it and start over.

One lesson is that if any continuation of your story has to sacrifice crucial elements established beforehand, that continuation should not exist. This is different from retcons where retcons are used to adjust or edit a slip that was done before—like fixing a timeline issue that shouldn't have happened in the first place.

This comic isn't a retcon of the last three games. It's sacrificing ¾’s of TWDG and A.J along with it. For what? An interesting story? Sure. Maybe. But an interesting story that belongs here? I doubt it.

[Tangled Web of TWDG]

Okay, okay. Ranting aside, let’s talk TWDG.

Because…it’s a great series. :D

No but seriously, who actually thought that asking for any continuation would be a simple thing to ask for, and thusly an easy task to accomplish?

And I ask this earnestly: who really thought that would be an easy thing to do?! And do it well?!

Quite frankly, before we go frothing at the mouths, let’s evaluate how big of an undertaking a comic for Clementine actually is.

And I’m going to start this by sharing my Clementine (for brevity’s sake, Clementine bolded will mean my Clementine specifically): Clementine is not a hero. She made mistake after mistake in S2, like chopping a lovely lady’s arm off, and so, by the end of it, Clementine simply snapped. Both Jane and Kenny died. After S2, she lost faith in people and only saw good in A.J. She didn’t trust Ava’s offer to join the New Frontier initially, and only joined once A.J got sick and needed more than supplementary care (i.e. medicine). Once A.J was taken from Clementine, it was yet another breaking point. So, with the guilt of S2’s events—namely Kenny’s murder at gunpoint—, and the guilt of not being good enough for A.J, Clementine turned raider. She began to steal off of others, namely the runners for the New Frontier, and spurred up hell whenever she felt it right. (This stemmed from assuming Javi wasn’t the first person she robbed. Lol.)

Then Javi came along, and he served as the one who reminded her the good in people. He helped Clementine find A.J’s whereabouts, and Clementine tried to clean herself up to be better for A.J. Once on the road with her little goofball, she tried to hold herself together, be the better person for him. By the time she got to the school, however, Clementine realized that she was still guiding A.J down a rocky path. Of good intentions, sure, but she saw her own flaws that she’d inadvertently imposed on A.J. Especially once Marlon was shot—a parallel to Kenny, her greatest regret. Throughout the remainder of S4, Clementine teetered down the fine line between teaching A.J the right thing, and feeding into a nasty side of herself. The school kids were there, however, and they taught A.J when she couldn’t, and they taught her how to deal with that nasty side—since they had to teach themselves the same, after the adults abandoned Ericson’s.

That nasty side being addiction, actually. Clementine’s an alcoholic. And a bad one, at that. I know this element lives purely in my head, shh. Clementine can’t literally be an alcoholic in the games. However, the alcoholism is my own representation for Clementine losing herself, straying away from who she was with Lee. I played S3 and S4 as if she struggled with the addiction, so it still ruled my interpretation, and therefore the choices I made. Thus, she’s an alcoholic.

And for the past couple years now, I’ve been writing Clementine’s story in a fanfiction because, well, the story’s important to me.

But we won’t get into that. Point is, Clementine isn’t a hero. Complicated, for sure, but she certainly played the villain in multiple lives—including her own. Here’s the thing with this: that doesn’t sound like your Clementine, does it? Maybe some of yours are similar to mine, as in you’ve made similar choices, but it’s probably without the alcoholism aspect—which is a central component to Clementine. I do like to push things a little. Lol.

Now, what does that shit have to do with the comics?

Well, this: despite playing the same source material, depending on our interpretations, how our interpretations defined our choices, and how those choices furthered our interpretations (it’s a vicious cycle, really), we are going to end up with different Clementines. Clementine may not be the “correct” interpretation to you, but Clementine is Clementine to me. Clementine is the result of my interpretations, my choices, and my interpretations based off of those choices.

And this is the beauty of Clementine as a character: she evolves throughout the games to reflect every one of us. Clementine the character is a lot like her namesake in that Clementine is but one slice of the whole. She’s but one slice, a reflection of me; given that Clementine is the only slice of my own, however, that slice is Clementine whole. And your Clementine is but one slice, but that slice is the whole of your Clementine.

At the same time, however, those pieces are not made of different characters. They are Clementines, not apples or oranges or lemons. So I’m not saying that a certain interpretation will be unrecognizable, but rather that a certain interpretation will be distinguishable from another. I.e. Clementine may be very different from your Clementine, but both interpretations recognizably come from the same character while functioning as individual wholes in their own right.

I’d like to think that every one of our Clementines has a different last name. They’re all still Clementine, but just different enough to be appreciated individually.

(This line of logic also applies to Lee and Javi, by the way. Aside from the last name thing. Lol.)

The reason why Clementine is this way is because she is a game character shaped by our choices—even those made as Lee and Javi. She’s not the same as a book or film character where, while the interpretations can vary, their presentation remains stagnant. Rick will always say and do the same things no matter how many times you read/watch his story. As will Michonne (ignoring her game), and Daryl, and so on. Clementine isn’t like that, not unless you choose the same choices every time you play the games. TWD comics and shows will forever have the same input every time you open a page or flip on a screen, and thus the same output; TWDG have a variety of inputs (choices) which leads to different outputs. In this way, headcanons do actually bleed into the games but not the comics/shows because of this (take Clementine being an alcoholic where the choices I made, especially in S4, were based off of that premise, and how that headcanon interacted with the game, versus how headcanons don’t impact the comics/shows unless you’re actively working on them). Obviously there’s limitations with TWDG, like how Clementine can’t literally be an alcoholic, but there’s enough there to leave people with vastly different Clementines as a result. There’s limitations to the choices you can make, but my point is more on how those limited choices do have a heavy influence on our perception—which is arguably more important than “oh! What will this choice do?”

So yeah.

Expecting a comic to be able to bottleneck every interpretation of Clementine, and appease everyone, is outlandish. It’s an unfair expectation to have for any creator, and it’s a…really, really risky thing for Skybound and Tillie to have signed themselves up for. It’s quite honestly the same as knowing a bear-trap is there, then to step in it to earn some of that good, good money.

Maybe they thought they could get away scot-free without losing a leg, but Clementine also thought that she’d never get bit and keep both calves, so…

Though I guess it does say a lot about Clementine. She only has one calf left, yet she’s still quite the cash-cow.

…anyway.

As a result of Clementine’s nature—being that she is actively shaped by the player’s interpretation—, on top of us having watched her grow up throughout the seasons, there has been a foundation set for emotional attachment. There is a level of personal devotion that we harbor for Clementine since, again, she’s a reflection of each and every one of us.

So as a fanbase, there is that element at play. Then, there’s how TWDG is a niche of a niche. TWD was extremely popular at one point, for sure, but that popularity has since declined to a small audience, and not everybody is interested in apocalyptic settings. Ergo, TWD is a niche. TWDG are a niche of that niche—and, honestly, I think the fanfiction count found on FF.net and AO3 says that plainly (the TWDG is 10 years old now, and there’s 2,774 fics on AO3, which is slight compared to the 23,553 fics for TWD).

TWDG = niche of a niche. Okay, cool.

What that means is, in conjunction with our personal devotion, TWDG have a smaller community to cater to.

Or, Clementine has a cult following. Lol.

And with cult followings, feeding us is both very, very easy and extremely, extremely difficult. Easy in that you could literally give us a single line (something like, oh I dunno, “Clementine lives” at the end of another comic) and we will go frothing at the mouths after it. Yet, given that cult followings are particularly sensitive to how their character(s) will be represented, you still have to be careful. Granted, no matter what a creator does, somebody emotional will be pissed off. However, so long as the community can see that the development was treated with care and passion for what’s been already established, people will accept it. And I think S3 is honestly a good example of this; the game is the weakest of the four, and people love to hate on it (for fair reason; the script is…something I’d expect from a draft, lol), but S3 still does get the love that I think is deserved. People still do care about it and its characters like Javi. That, and it does some interesting things. There’s passion behind it, and people appreciate that.

By this point, since the games have concluded as a niche (of a niche), the cult following is really the only audience who is aware of the comics, and is who the comics are for. Having a cult following be the primary environment of your audience is a slippery slope for a company to appease—especially a company that, really, did not create the work that the audience follows.

Now let’s consider: Clementine = slices of a whole x cult following

Which is a scary equation for an adaptation. But here, with the slices of a whole, we have a juxtaposition upon us—which will guide the rest of this essay. It’s also something I kind of…skirted around before.

And what a strange juxtaposition it is. Clementine is simultaneously a character flexible to each and every one of our interpretations, but also a character that is, well, her own character. Yes, Clementine’s strength as a character is also a strange juxtaposition. She’s not like Ellie in The Last of Us given that those games are linear—choices can be made, but none that impact the story itself. She’s not like Geralt from the Witcher franchise since Geralt is an established character outside the games, and despite the games having choices that weigh into the story, his characterization is still quite true to what was established beforehand. She’s also not like other titles such as Elder Scrolls, Fallout nor Cyberpunk 2077 where the player characters are the most flexible in terms of characterization.

Clementine is, functionally, a strange character in this way. She’s neither the rigid characters people play as like Ellie and Geralt (though the latter has more wiggle-room), nor the player-inserts like in the aforementioned games. Clementine is a character made for the “Telltale RPGs” where the characters have rooted characterizations beyond the player’s interpretations, but the player interpretations of those characterizations will influence the choices made, and thusly the overall interpretation and conclusion of said characters. …which sounds like it extends to Geralt as well, but notice the made for the “Telltale RPGs”. Ignoring the comic (and fandom stuff) for a second, Clementine doesn’t exist outside the games. She, along with Lee and Javi, are unique in this way—even within Telltale’s character line-up, across the board.

And what does this mean for the comic?

Well.

It means they really shot themselves in the foot—with a rifle. On top of the whole…rant I made earlier.

As much as I would love to see Clementine have her own comic, she is not a character made for it. Unless it is a choose-your-own adventure novel, or it was established, from the beginning, that the comic is but one Clementine, Clementine as a Telltale-RPG character would never be able to function in a linear story because she was designed not to.

But also—and here’s the rifle part—the comic would still have to abide by her set characterization. On top of being flexible with her being a Telltale-RPG character.

This is what I mean by Clementine having a strange juxtaposition.

There are different slices of her—different interpretations—, but those slices are still all Clementine. Not apple, nor orange, nor lemon. We were given multiple choices, but all of those choices were within the realm of Clementine being Clementine. Clementine had the option of leaving or staying to watch Kenny beat Carver to death—but there was never a choice to help Kenny kill Carver. Because Clementine wouldn’t do that, ergo, the option wasn’t presented. Maybe apple would do that, however, or lemon. Clementine had the option of telling A.J that he should apologize to atone for his actions, or back him up after shooting Marlon—but there was never a choice to kick A.J out and leave him to fend for himself, nor start a fist-fight with the school kids for being upset. Because Clementine wouldn’t do either. Ergo. The options weren’t presented.

Now. This only gets more convoluted when you consider that, even though every option presented is in-line with Clementine as a whole, not every option is fit for a single slice of Clementine. For example, Clementine would’ve never accepted Ava’s initial offer to join the New Frontier. Because she does not trust people. If anything, she hates people. However, other interpretations may have jumped on the offer. Which is fine. Good even.

So yeah. Convoluted. Lol.

Either way, then we get to the question:

Would Clementine abandon A.J at the school?

The short, simple answer is no.

Clementine to A.J is Lee to Clementine. Clementine is essentially A.J’s mom, and A.J is practically her kid. She went through hell getting A.J back—even has the potential to have killed a man just to know where A.J was kept. (If you don’t make a choice for Javi when Dr. Lingard asks to euthanize him, Clementine will do it. How do I know this? Because of my interpretation of Javi: I played him as not a coward, per se, but someone who does not like seeing the face of who he kills. Thus, my interpretation of his hesitancy influenced Clementine and revealed something about Clementine’s character: that she would.)

Now, I know I’ve harped on this point long enough, but it’s for good reason.

I firmly believe that Skybound, and therefore the comic, greatly underestimated Clementine as a character—both in our attachment to her as a cult following, but also her complexity as a Telltale-RPG character. To avoid the time and energy that would’ve been spent in crafting a choose-your-own-adventure story, no doubt. Or rather, to cut corners.

And then insist that because they have the rights to the IP now, what they say goes. What they do equals canon. …while furiously brushing the nature of Clementine’s character under the rug. And what canon actually means.

Speaking of, let’s discuss canon, and how TWDG fit into that.

[What is Canon Actually?]

I’m gonna say it. You’re gonna watch me say it:

The concept of canon versus fandom is bizarre.

It is.

Take mythology for instance. Those stories, with a grain of truth or not, serve as a prime example as to what I mean.

And I’ll do this by absolutely undermining all of human, mythology history, but you’ll get the point: person creates story—as a way to document history via oral storytelling, or to express a message—, and that story is told; the story is passed down, and it changes with the interpretations of whoever is then telling the story; the story builds on itself and evolves to encompass every interpretation that has been accepted by the culture—by separating itself into multiple iterations if details being to contradict, or by converging in on itself.

And then.

The stories become ingrained, and the cycle continues on.

Canon is the source material. It’s that original storyteller. Fandom is interpretation. And come to find, throughout history, it’s fandom that ultimately decides the canon’s fate. Fandom will reject things that it doesn’t like with canon, and it will alter the story with time. And as a significant amount of time passes, we end up with stories of Heracles turning into Disney’s Hercules.

In this way, a culture’s mythology is an example of how canon and fandom is actually quite intertwined. And, as I will go over later, we see this with American mythology—comics. DC and Marvel comics being the major two.

Now, this isn’t to claim that there has never been a difference recognized between source material and interpretation. For one, Homer often credited in writing the Iliad and Odyssey—meaning he is the original storyteller, or, more probable, he is the one that documented oral traditions. Homer’s existence and the fact that his name has yet to be forgotten after all this time is, in itself, evidence that people didn’t just wake up one day and decide to finally credit a storyteller for their contribution to culture. This has been something that has been done for a while—albeit in different ways.

What this is to claim, however, is that there are two core reasons as to why fandom and canon are separated as we understand it now: copyright and technology.

And we’ll start with the former. Copyright history is quite interesting. Something that goes back further and deeper than people tend to assume. We’ll start in 1790 (yes, it’s a crusty, dusty law) where it was written into the new U.S Constitution:

“Congress shall have the Power . . . To promote the Progress of Science and useful Arts, by securing for limited Times to Authors and Inventors the exclusive Right to their respective Writings and Discoveries.”

United States Constitution, Article I, Section 8

And, in modern times, that translates to providing the “exclusive right to reproduce and distribute his or her work, [and] a right to publicly perform or display the work” (Copyright.gov). This also extends the creator’s right to give other parties a license to do the same, but, there are limitations, especially as technology has developed. (The Copyright.gov website explains this in more depth.)

What this means is that, already, we see a line dug between canon and fandom. People can’t just write fanfiction and expect to get paid for characters and a story they, themselves, didn’t create. Which, fair enough. I am by no means going to claim that writing fanfiction is a cakewalk, but I do understand why fanfiction is a free service: it is done out of passion, nothing more.

Technology has made its impact as well. And this doesn’t just mean the Internet—even though it arguably has had the largest impact with this discussion. Any advancement that makes it easier for people to communicate and discuss interpretations of material has contributed. Cars. School systems. Conventions. While versions of these concepts were probably present in the past, the sheer convenience of all of these has made it easy to bridge the gap between the creator and their audience. And because of that—at least for the sake of this essay—, copyright was established as a sort of barrier to ensure that the creator is able to be compensated for their contribution.

The Internet, of course, has done this tenfold. I’m sitting in my bed with my cat on lap, snoozing away. I don’t have to be at a convention, or even see anybody of the fandom, to discuss Clementine and TWDG and the comics with others. And because of that, the difference between canon and fandom is simultaneously a slippery slope and a solid border. The way people can interact with a fandom and talk directly to the creator allows for that slippery slope, but at the same time, because of the law, the difference is more defined. Which I find to be interesting, if anything.

So how do TWDG fit into this?

Well, to understand that, it’s best to understand how Telltale fits into this. Without going into too much their history—since, frankly, it’s not really relevant here—, understanding what Telltale Games was (and kind of is now?) will better contextualize TWDG and canonicity. Telltale is known for their choose-your-own-adventure, point-and-click style games. Yes. And, ultimately, that has remained to be the trademark for the majority—if not all—of their time. Another thing? Comic books. Outside of the gameplay and story type, Telltale is known for being the game company that adapted comic books.

Here's a few:

The Wolf Among Us. Bone. Batman. And, of course, The Walking Dead.

Granted, Telltale didn’t only adapt comic books, but for the sake of this part of the essay, the comic-book-thing is another point of interest. And I’m going to use Batman as an example.

We go to May 1939, in Issue #27 of the Detective Comics: The Case of The Chemical Syndicate. Or, Batman’s first appearance, thanks to Bob Kane and Bill Finger. Then, six issues later, we have his origin (you know the one: turned into a rich orphan in a dark, dark alley). Five issues after that, Batman sees the introduction of his very own Watson: Robin, who completes the dynamic duo. In the 1940s, Batman received his very own comic series, starting off with Joker and Catwoman appearing in the first issue.

Oh, and this early batman wielded guns. Which uh…, if you’re familiar with Batman, is really, really weird. However, this is an example of how characters and stories evolve over time, depending on what both the creators and fandom accepts and rejects.

We hop over to the 60s where Batman was associated with a campy, tongue-in-cheek, largely due to the show at the time. As that interpretation fizzled out, Batman was back to his roots with his grim stories rekindled.

And since then, with comics alone, we have a slew of different interpretations that, together, have built Batman’s overall identity: Dark Knight Returns, Batman: The Killing Joke, Batman: Nightfall, Batman: Year One, Batman: A Death in the Family, Batman: Arkham Asylum, Batman: Death of the Family. And a plethora more. The reality is, Batman didn’t spawn from one iteration. He is an amalgamation of a whole evolution: Golden Age. Bronze Age. Silver Age. Modern Age, and 21st Century comics. The New 52. DC origins. My rat pea brain is frothing. Television. Film.

(Also, the interpretation section of Batman’s Wikipedia makes my point plainly. Specifically the gay one, where the argument between whether or not Batman is gay I found to be entertaining.)

And. Of course. Video games.

Telltale’s Batman series is but another interpretation that has added to the mountain of other perspectives that makes the Caped Crusader, well, the Caped Crusader.

TWDG, however, are unique compared to the Batman games. Where Batman adapts both the world and characters from the comics, TWDG don’t (aside from Michonne, and a few character references done in S1, and Jesus). TWDG only adapt the world from the comics. The reason why boils down to TWD, and how it would’ve been redundant to have Rick Grimes be in a new game series when there were the comics and show going on all at once.

So, instead of a sheriff’s deputy, we got a convicted murderer. How fun! :D

But to that point, here is another element which Robert Kirkman himself noted (after being asked if Clementine would be in the show):

“I mean, honestly, like, we love Clementine and those games are fantastic, but I like that there are different elements to each iteration of The Walking Dead that you can only get in those iterations. [. . .] I think if we cross-pollenate too much, it takes away from what makes Walking Dead special in all the different genres.”

Iterations.

Something that has been commonplace in American comics like Batman, in mythology, religious texts, etc. Here, Kirkman recognizes why iterations are so fascinating and important for storytelling, and it’s just yet another reason why I do respect him as a writer:

Iterations bring individual perspective.

By using the same foundations—whether it be with all the characters, world, and storyline, or just the world—, it opens the chance for people to deconstruct and explore nuance. And obviously, Kirkman—as the creator—has given other parties the license to do such a thing, given copyright. Between the show(s) and the comics, the differing perspectives is in the different interpretations of TWD—the original storyteller, and then those who are adapting it. Between the comics and the games, however, rather than interpretations of TWD itself, it’s with the different interpretations of TWD’s world. “Okay, so we’ve followed a cop, let’s follow a convict.” And then it developed from there.

And this does extend to Clementine’s fic in regards to TWDG, though it passes into the fandom space. It’s the same as what’s going on between the show(s) and comics—with the additional, tangled web discussed previously.

So, in regards to this comic, it’s important to acknowledge that TWD—as a whole—has embraced different iterations throughout its time. Here, we can appreciate this layer of complexity with TWD on a grander scale.

On a smaller scale, TWDG have a another layer of complexity that the TWD comics and shows don’t have:

Well, obviously, the tangled web. The fact that Clementine is running around with a bunch of other different slices of Clementine. Those different slices arguably being different iterations in themselves, while being attached to one singular, overarching iteration of Clementine.

What this means for canonicity and TWDG is that it’s…complicated, though in a different way than Batman (and the TWD comics versus show, for the matter), yet with a similar result. Batman is an amalgamation of iterations throughout the decades, now including Telltale’s, which has left us with a multitude of interpretations, a multitude of versions—all of which still resemble each other as the same character. Clementine has one iteration—now two, including the comic. But unlike Batman, Clementine started off as a choose-your-own-adventure character, so she is inherently an amalgamation of every interpretation that has guided players through the games, as a reflection of those players, and each interpretation thrives and are considered canon.

And here’s how:

The games are canon up until a death screen. Between the fatal choice made—or not made, with those damn quick-times—to the red screen doesn’t count. Because, uh, you died. Which leaves the game to prompt you to try again.

So? It means it doesn’t matter how you ended S1, or S2, or S3, or S4, if you ended them, that was the story told to you. A story, which, becomes your source material. Your canon—and thusly your Clementine.

Which, like, no shit. Lol.

But then let’s dive in a little deeper. Dig up another layer:

Interpretation.

Because, hey, it works in a really funky way here. Interpretation in fandoms (which take the form of headcanons) are typically generated in isolation from the canon material. Simply put, copyright. Whoopie.

Another reason why goes back to the idea that there are characters who are stagnant—like Rick, and Michonne, and Daryl—, and those who are not—Clementine, Lee, Javi. Fandom headcanons of the former three can only do so much. They do not actively impact the story, not unless the creators allow them to (but, well, again, copyright). With the latter three? Headcanons do. Like how Clementine suffered from alcoholism as a way to represent her losing sense of self, and the way that interpretation influenced how I played—how my canon, my source material, took shape.

So, again, Clementine is a very, very strange character in regards to canon. When compared to many other characters created nowadays, most of which only have one (maybe two, if there’s a film-adaptation-thing going on) iteration, I can’t help but think that Clementine is reminiscent of characters from mythology. Depending on what story needs to be told, and who is telling that story, gods like Athena, Loki and Oya may do things that contradict what other stories claim, all while being recognizable as Athena, Loki and Oya. Functionally, it is the same with Clementine, albeit within Telltale’s singular iteration rather than centuries of cultural development.

I also like to think that where Batman is a tower, where the foundation will always be that Issue #27 and people have just built on top of that, Clementine is a mirror. Every person who has played the games has a shard of it, and when we look into our shard, we see our reflective Clementine, but when those shards are put together, we see Clementine whole. And Clementine whole isn’t one singular interpretation—not like how Kane and Finger created Batman.

Which, honestly, brings us to interpretation in practice.

And how it’s a skill.

[Writing Fanfiction is a Skill]

Nope, didn't read that wrong. I mean it.

I have almost 6 years and over 1,000,000 words archived on AO3, dammit (and a few more million to come, lol), so trust me when I say that writing fanfiction is a skill.

When you write fanfiction, you are developing the skills of writing which can be applied to your own, original works. Sure thing. You get to learn how to grammar, spell, use fancy punctuation (talkin’ about real fancy shit, now!), and other cool things. All without worrying or spending your time/energy on developing a world and characters from the ground-up.

However, when you write fanfiction, you're also developing other skills that you wouldn't otherwise develop. It’s like a special exercise that exercises one special muscle that no other lame exercises do. Lol.

The fact of the matter is not everyone can pull a character from another person's story and keep all the components of their personality. Well, okay, nobody can keep all components. Naturally, there will always be parts missing, or altered. For one, the original creator might not have included everything that was running through their head when their character was born; things are always cut, that's just how it is. Two, interpretation will always skew as people take the character(s) into their own hands.

If you're writing fanfiction purely as a hobby to express yourself, and you're not all that concerned over maintaining the intended character traits provided in the original piece of work, then this isn't an issue. A lot of people write characters as homosexual/queer, or as trans, or with mental illnesses (or all at once; sounds fun) as a way to simultaneously acknowledge their acceptance of a character and explore themes they wouldn't have otherwise explored. And there is nothing wrong with it. That's a normal thing to do, and I highly doubt that this is just some sudden phenomenon. So if that's how you roll, keep on truckin' along. There isn't inherently anything wrong with using fanfiction that way.

However, there is something to be said about the value in being able to write a character believably—as if you yourself wrote it (but not, like, in a stealing way). Being able to mimic their dialogue. Nailing their little quirks. Acknowledging their complexity. Out of the two directions you can take fanfiction—purely for expression or writing a character as is—, the latter falls more in line with comprehensive skill. You would have to comprehensively read in order to effectively write Percy Jackson as if you're Riordan himself.

Will anyone actually ever be able to do that? No, because interpretation will always skew, and everybody except for Mr. Riordan is not Rick Riordan. Is it constructive to be a fanfiction-copycat? No, because you have your own style in doing things, you have your own views, and why do Riordan's work for him when he could do it himself?

The truth is, for the majority of writers, fanfiction tends to be a meld of both. Writers will strive to emulate their characters, but with certain traits, they'll bend the characterizations set in order to express/explore their own interests. Which is cool. That's ultimately how you find yourself as a writer (or any artist, really) when practicing with fanworks. That, and you'll find people who think of characters in different ways. Which is also cool.

But there is a balance at play here.

When I write fanfiction, I am there to develop my writing skills, and my adaptation skills as well. Largely because it was a way for me to observe how different characters act, and to practice on how to write different characters. When I write fanfiction, I want you to be able to hear the characters speak through my dialogue. And if it’s a fic with minor-canon divergence? I want you to be fooled as to which lines of dialogue are from the show/game, and which are of my own.

In short, I want you to believe that the characters from whatever show, whatever game, would behave this way, talk this way, in my stories.

I want you to believe that Clementine could be an alcoholic, yet still recognize her all the same.

There’s a sweet spot in writing fanfiction. Of course, you may be able to pick apart which trace is of the canon, and which are of the fanfic author’s. But so long as the fic has you believing what the characters are doing are what they’d do, then it doesn’t matter if you’re able to pick apart those traces. Because that’s you accepting the fanfic author’s interpretation—out of appreciation, or even to the point where you adopt the interpretation with your own.

And about the value in being able to comprehensively read a character and then write your own story around it… Well, this comic may be a good example as to why that is actually a crucial skill to have:

The thing about fanfiction is that it's a collaboration between you, the person writing the fanfiction, and the creator. Most of the time, the collaboration isn't direct, and the creator doesn't know about it. And that's fine. (…great, even; most, if not all, fics are just meant to be unseen by the creator because of that legality stuff lol.) But, with the reader and fanfic author, that is typically reversed because you can interact with each other. That, and fandom discourse can and does impact how people write characters in their fics.

And you know what else is a collaboration?

Damn near every single bit of fictional entertainment except for writing. Literature, unless you buddy-up to write a book, is usually a solitary thing. But writing a script for film? Movies or shows? Video games? The continuation of a franchise?

Yeah. Those all require a collaborative effort in some way, shape or form. And it's funny how that skill in being able to mimic another person's character to continue the story, through collaboration, can be found within writing fanfiction—a (typically) solitary thing.

If Tillie isn't a good fanfiction writer, the Clementine in the comic can be, at worst, described as her own character wearing Clementine's skin. Which…I hope not. I’m gonna give her the benefit of the doubt. What I will maintain, however, is that the comic is another iteration of Clementine. Separate from the games. On account of how I don’t see the comics being able to effectively bottleneck every Clementine. That, and it makes more sense. In the same way that Batman can have many iterations, Clementine can as well. And you can pick-and-choose which you want to go with.

With all that said, though, this is the point that will be better judged once the comics are out. I can’t really say if Tillie is good at adapting another character because what I’ve seen isn’t much—especially since it will be 256 pages long.

I mean…from what I have seen, I know that the comic Clementine won’t be Clementine. And because of that, I’m not going to adopt Tillie’s interpretation with my own. My benefit of the doubt is extended to an appreciation if Tillie does end up serving Clementine well. …which isn’t what I saw from the first chapter and all that was released before, but whatever.

In any case.

Writing fanfiction is a lot like playing with action figures. You're borrowing them for your own stories—and that can include your own universes if it's an alternate universe. You could swap out the clothes and detachable limbs to craft a story however you please, or you could keep the action figures as they are and have at it.

More often than not, the action figures will remain how they came in the box, but they will act in ways that are skewed from the original characterization. Some people are better at closing that gap between original work and interpretation, and with very few, it's to the point where you barely realize it. To the point where, if the piece of fanfiction they wrote was published, it could be just a development of the story.

Which is how collaborative fiction works, isn't it? Especially in franchises based off of one creator’s foundation—like Robert Kirkman’s comic book—, which are then adapted as a tv show. Then you have how people are constantly swapped in-and-out of long projects, yet those different interpretations come together as canon.

And with the comic, if what we know as of now isn't a fluke but is instead what the story offers, it's probably in-part due to lacking that fanfiction skill—or, well, skill in adaptation.

But that isn't to say that Walden herself is a bad writer. 

(tillie walden's artwork, with a.j)

[Walden Conundrum]

Let’s start here: do nOT HARRASS HER MY LORD THAT’S NOT WHAT WE’RE HERE FOR CLEMENTINE WOULDN’T APPRECIATE IT SHE WOULD SEE IT AS A WASTE OF TIME AND DOWNRIGHT STUPID ALSO THIS TUMBLR BLOG DOESN’T STAND FOR ITTTTT—

deep inhale

This does apply to Skybound as well, for the matter, though of course Walden is one person and Skybound is a company so…yeah.

Anyway. Look.

I'm going to be honest. I've investigated a little bit. I've gone around and looked into (some of) Walden’s work (which will be linked at the end).

First, let’s cover her professional career. Walden is a cartoonist, and as of now, she has seven works under her belt starting from 2015: The End of Summer (2015), I Love This Part (2015),  A City Inside (2016), Spinning (2017),On A Sunbeam (2018), Are You Listening? (2020), and My Parents Won’t Stop Talking! (2022). And then, of course, the Clementine comic in not too long.

In the awards department, she has won three Ignatz Awards—for her first two books—, and then two Eisner Awards for Spinning, (Best Reality-Based Work), and recently for My Parents Won’t Stop Talking! (Best Graphic Album—New) . We will come back to the reality-based genre.

So…, yeah. Walden isn’t just this random cartoonist.

Outside of that, Walden is a graduate of the Center for Cartoon Studies, where she now works as a professor. Walden was also a competitive ice skater (sounds fun; it also means she likes snow). And, something that has bled into her stories, Walden is an out lesbian.

So from looking at both her achievements and Walden herself, I can see why Skybound would have an interest in hiring her. For one, she’s young—mid-20s. She’s an out queer person. Both of these mean that, following a line of logic, Walden would be someone who understands Clementine who is a young, bi woman (teenager, whatever) at this point—compared to an old fart who has his hands cramping whenever he draws. Then, you have her achievements. The Eisner Awards are a big deal in the comic industry—think of them as Grammys, but like, for dialogue-pictures.

Okay. Never going to describe comics like that again. Got it.

With this, I dug a little deeper. Turns out, you can read one of her works on her website—free of charge. ON A SUNBEAM (OAS). 20 chapters long. Easy read.

And you know what? It's quite enjoyable. I had a fun time at least.

OAS is a sci-fi novel in which there is space, and there are fishes, and those fishes are fuckin’ rad spaceships. There’s a cat-horse in there, and there’s high school, and a team of people who are in a fish spaceship that go fix some juicy-ass architecture (I do love architecture). 20 chapters. Free to read on her website. I do recommend.

Now, okay. To actually explain the story, OAS is a sci-fi novel where it follows Mia, who is about as flawed as you can get, in two main timelines: one at high school, and the other as she joins a team (on a fish spaceship!) that primarily oversees old architecture projects. In space.

Also, it is quite a queer, feminist story. There are no men, so the lesbianism is a given, but there is a nonbinary character (who’s pretty cool; hi Elliot :D). And with that said, I do appreciate how this was handled. None of it felt forced—especially compared to other, pandering stuff I’ve read. The story is of queer identity. Cool. And the story moves on.

So, yeah. That was a nice aspect of it.

Overall, the comic itself is more or less an emotional journey than anything. All the sci-fi stuff takes a backseat and melds into the environment.

The main character, Mia, is…destructive, reckless, abrasive at times, etc. etc. Yet, Mia's also fiercely loyal. She knows her flaws, and whenever they come back around to bite her on the ass, she's remorseful. I'm going to be honest when I say that it was nice to see. It can be difficult to be able to write such a flawed personality with their redeemable qualities littered throughout.

I’m not going to get too far into the comic, however. One, that’s not the point here, and two, frankly, going in blind was a fun time. I do encourage people to read it if you so choose just to prove the point that, no, I don’t think that Walden is a bad storyteller. So, if you have the time and interest, forget this Clementine business for a bit and read it. Maybe you’ll enjoy it too.

But…yeah. She’s not a bad storyteller. Instead, I believe that Walden was not at all the right fit for these comics.

And I’m going to start with her art-style.

Personally, it’s not my favorite. I love sharp, bold linework matched with vivid colors—see Marvel and DC comics. And if colors aren’t included? Well, that’s cool too. I absolutely love Little Witch Academia’s manga (specifically Satō’s), and adore Kakegurui. And many more, of course.

So, yes, I’m personally not the audience for Walden’s style. Hers is very simplistic overall. The linework is made of thin and “freehand” lines. The shapes are as well.

All to make room for color.

And, if you’re familiar with Walden’s work or have just popped over to OAS, you’ll understand why this is a huge thing:

Color is the blood to Walden’s style. Without it, it’s…dry? I suppose? The best way to describe Walden’s art-style is that it is all color with as little linework necessary to guide that color. The linework is there to show you where the characters are looking, not to be the epitome of detail.

Which…, while it’s not my jam, I can respect that. For one thing, this style worked well with OAS—and I can imagine it goes well with Walden’s other projects as well, outside of Clementine. In other words, it’s good for contemporary, self-reflective work.

If anything, I think this is the main reason why people have criticized the art-style in the Clementine comic as much as they have. Because TWD is known for its greyscale comics, which is why the Clementine comic is doing the same. The issue with this is because Walden’s style is reliant on color—that is truly where the story is being told, and I gotta say, she has an eye for it—, I don’t think that the linework in greyscale is going to be able to hold-up.

Now, to be clear, I have grown to appreciate the style. I don’t take much issue with it for the comics anymore. Partially because of OAS. At the same time, here I was just a week ago gushing about variant covers (especially Michael Walsh’s) because…damn, that’s my kind of shit. And it is very different from Walden’s work. But, again, I do appreciate Walden’s style. I know it has it strengths, because I’ve read it in a full, finished story. So I shall maintain that the Clementine comics won’t truly be representative of Walden’s style.

Another thing: concepts. I have a suspicion that the Clementine comics will tap into some interesting concepts. Well, okay. Less of a suspicion and more of a guarantee; as seen in the first two chapters that have been released (both linked at the end), we have the comics exploring an Amish community.

Which.

Um, yeah. That’s actually a really interesting thing to be looking into. The Amish are quite secluded from everyone else, but, wouldn’t the Amish fair better in an apocalypse an a city-person? They’re already independent. They already know the skills required to live off the land. And in a franchise that has largely explored how people had to change with the world, exploring a group of people who were already a step ahead—despite being behind technologically—is very interesting.

Now, uh, will we explore more of them? Well…no? Maybe? Unless Amos says things here-and-there.

Ah well.

But, that will be a potential highlight of the comics.

Another highlight is actually similar to Walden’s approach to sci-fi—have the genre be the environment, and let the people be people (or monsters).

This is another thing that fits TWD very well. In all honesty, this approach goes hand-in-hand with Kirkman’s refusal to explain how the apocalypse started—which is something that I actually like, and have incorporated in my own (fanfic) writing. Of course, the unknown is scary and interesting, thus curiosity beckons for an answer, but the point of TWD has always been about the people. (Until recently with the show trying to explain an origin, but…I don’t care.)

So…yeah. That is yet another point.

And now we get into characters and plot.

…both of which I can’t justifiably comment on using OAS as an example because, well, adaptations are different than what Walden is accustomed to.

Here we have an interview of Walden’s, given at the end of the first chapter. (The interview link will be at the end, through DomTheBomb’s video(s). I’m not going to go over the whole interview.) For our purposes, there are two questions that are important, though I will reference things from the other questions (there’s only five in this interview).

Tillie, you’re known for writing and drawing your own characters—what made you excited to take on this project and dive into Clementine and the world of TWD?

I was excited by the prospect of entering the world of TWD mostly because it felt so different from all the other work I’ve done. All my past books have been loosely autobiographical, pretty quiet, pretty sensitive. The idea of bashing in the heads of walkers, and writing characters who are shaped so deeply by survival sounded fascinating. And of course in the process of working with Clementine’s character to make these books, I’ve found so many connections between her story, the apocalypse, and my own life.

After I read this…, things started to add-up.

The Clementine comics are outside of Walden’s comfort zone. They’re within a genre that she isn’t familiar with, with a character that isn’t hers… And, yeah. Okay. For what it’s worth, I’ll give her props for branching out. It is an exciting thing for any storyteller to do.

But. It does raise the question of how far outside her comfort zone is she? Has Walden ever written (or drawn) fanfiction? To this level specifically. If so, how much? Has she ever developed adaptational skills to a professional level?

And as I’ve read through this interview, and some others, I’ve realized why Clementine is traveling to Vermont: to compensate for branching out. By plucking Clementine from an unknown to a known, I can imagine it made it easier for Walden to craft this story.

Here’s the thing.

Walden is a (loose) autobiographical storyteller—hence why she was awarded for her reality-based work, which I do think was deserved. Her skills are in slipping elements of herself into her stories. After reading OAS, I can say she does it well—with OCs and original stories, anyway. And if she’s played the games? Well, her Clementine is a reflection of Walden, isn’t she? So…naturally, Walden is going to impose herself onto Clementine—as was designed by Telltale to do, maybe elevated given Walden’s past work.

In regards to the comic, this is an issue.

A blaring one if Walden is not familiar with writing fanfiction to begin with.

When you write characters with comprehensive skill, you develop the ability to write in different perspectives. To write characters outside of your comfort zone—especially when you get to fandoms with large casts. And given that I live in a fucking desert with sand and dust and cacti and shit, I’ve had to spend time and research to write environments I’m not familiar with because most of my fandoms don’t take place in a desert.

Ergo, I don’t believe Walden developed those skills. Not enough for Clementine.

And because of that, we have a Clementine who is warped. She doesn’t talk like Clementine because Walden is writing Clementine’s dialogue as she herself would talk. Or, at the very least, how she thinks Clementine would talk, but through a heavy layer of bias. Clementine left the school for snow because Walden likes snow—even though, Clementine probably wouldn’t (again, Clementine would go fucking insane).

This is what I mean by fanfiction is a skill. Sure, elements of Walden’s personality would end up in the comic regardless. But, the key to fanfiction is being able to get into a character’s head unfamiliar to you. That is the trick to a successful fanfic/adaptation.

Not doing whatever the fuck you want because you’re in charge. We have a name for that. It’s called crackfic.

With that, here is the second question:

Your process as a writer/illustrator is a little different than most. You don’t do scripts, and instead prefer to just dive right into the layouts—why do you think this helps you?

God I hate scripts. I feel like as a cartoonist, our skill is in synthesizing the drawing and writing process. If you separate them, then in my mind, I’m not really making a comic anymore. Of course we outline the book before we start, mostly so my editor knows I have some idea of where I’m going, but then like you said, I go right into making a draft of the book, without scripting or thumbnailing. I think this process works for me for a few reasons. One is that it forces me to build the story visually right from the get-go, and often my best moments of writing and plot are inspired by an image I draw. Another reason is that it’s faster. This is huge, since we’re trying to bring a Clementine book to people each year (it’s a [trilogy]). And I think the final reason is that by writing and drawing at the same time, I naturally create a lot more silent spreads than I think would be inclined to do if I was scripting. “Drawing of the beach, no text” doesn’t sound lovely in a script, but when I see it, I can feel it, and I know it belongs.

Ah.

So there is a lot to unpack here, and I will do this by taking each reason at a time before diving into the meat of it. Because, frankly, this answer is the one that bothers me the most. Now, for one, I am not a comic writer. At the moment my focus is in literature, but I would like to expand at some point. But, I am a storyteller, as is Walden, so at the crux of this, I do have insight as to…what Walden is saying here.

Insight that isn’t just for writers. Lol. I think it’ll be pretty easy for people to pick up what I’m picking up on.

First of all, with this answer, we learn that Walden is a gardener/pantser—both terms used to describe how a storyteller crafts their story. Gardeners are people who write as they go, and let the story develop in the moment. This method is quite messy and unorganized, but that is the point. What you’re doing is letting a story grow organically.

…also, this isn’t as different as the interviewer described. For comic artists maybe, I can definitely see that, but you will run into a lot of writers who take this approach. I have, at least.

Now, I am not a gardener. At all. I am an architect. I outline—to an extreme. So while I do definitely give my stories that time and room to breathe, I don’t just write as I go along. I hop around. I keep an outline. I even script my dialogue for many scenes.

But you know what? This difference doesn’t really matter. There isn’t inherently a right or wrong with being an architect versus a gardener. Here’s why: so long as you can get from Point A to Point B, and the product is good, it doesn’t matter what journey you took. A storyteller’s journey with their story is quite an intimate experience in some respects. I can’t really judge Walden’s process in this regard.

However, it is crucial to understand that one process doesn’t have a leverage over the other in regards to time. Outliners tend to wait a while before actually writing because they are dedicating time and energy in, well, planning. Now, I will usually just plop down and write a few scenes to feel out the style for the story—like first person versus third, past versus present tense, etc.—, but a significant portion of time is just outlining. By the time outliners do start writing, it is rapid-fire. The actual writing (for me at least) doesn’t take that long. I’ve gotten to the point where I can write 100k words in a month easy. But those 100k words came out after a couple other months of planning.

With pantsers, that, of course, is flipped. To my mind, I would think gardening a story would take longer than outlining because you have to keep drafting and editing and catching all the plot-holes you missed before. But, then again, I’m not a pantser, so naturally that process would take longer for me.

So, to Walden’s second point with time, the only reason why it should take a shorter amount of time for her to garden a story rather than script is because she is a pantser, not an outliner. So, as pantsing a story would take longer for me, outlining a story may take longer for her. If the process itself, however, takes significantly less time than an outliner because only one draft is written, and finalized, then…

Yikes.

That is not a good sign. Especially with an adaptation. On Clementine. Where you have to keep track…of the choices made…and potentially incorporating her Telltale-RPG nature…

Walden may be a gardener, but with pumping out a ~200-300 page comic each year, with this process, for this character, is reckless. Not the gardening process itself, mind you, but the implication that this requires less work, less drafts, for Walden to do within a short amount of time—1-2 years isn’t actually a lot.

Then there is the emphasis on the art. While I don’t write comics myself, I would argue from a storyteller’s perspective that comics are more than the art. Yes, the art is the focus, just like the narration is for narrative writing. They are the key components to their respective artforms.

But a key is not the only part in opening a door. You need the fingers to grip it. You need the wrist to turn it. And then you need the lock itself—the story, in which the key is cracking open for the audience.

The art, the narration, is the flavor to the story, not the story itself. If that wasn’t the case, every chicken would taste the same, no matter how it’s been prepared. Every apocalyptic universe would be the same. Sure, there’s absolutely similarities given that it’s the same genre, but try to tell me that TWDG and TLOU are the same thing. Go on. I’ll wait…

Point is, while the flavor is absolutely important, people care more about the meat. Clementine’s cult-following cares more about the meat. We are invested in the comic—for better or for worse—because of Clementine, not the art. In her other works like OAS, people may be there for the art. But that’s the difference between a continuation versus original work, isn’t it? People weren’t invested in the characters of OAS before reading, but they may have been intrigued by the art. With Clementine, no. Cult-following will cult-follow. And being the primary audience, if the meat isn’t good, people will not care about the flavor. At all.

Now. Again. None of this is a criticism of Tillie with her work overall. As I said before, one’s process shouldn’t really matter when it comes to a product’s quality. So if the product is good, it doesn’t matter if you’re a gardener or an architect.

However.

A storyteller’s process does have its impact. It doesn’t matter with solitary work, but it does in certain other contexts. Like adaptation, and or, continuations.

I outline to an extreme because 1) it works for me, and 2) the outline is there to jog my memory whenever I get back to a project after, inevitably, having to take a break and work on something else.

So again, is Tillie the right choice for Clementine? In short, while I understand why she was hired for this—because there's fair reasons—, I don’t think so.

I will be the first to say that I do not appreciate the basic premise. At all. It's quite frankly appalling and a punch right to my spleen—and then some. It makes me want to wear down my teeth to little numbs by eating sand (I live in a desert; it would be cost-effective). And I covered that. Again, Clementine put down her hat for a reason; to just give her another one with a cute lil ball at the top as she goes off into effectively a war-zone is a complete misinterpretation of her and her arc. There are better solutions. So many better solutions. They just aren't as simple as throwing Clementine back out into the world. So in that sense, my knee-jerk reaction is going to be no, she was not. At all.

But, to be fair, it is still early. There is still room for the comic to redeem itself. As in, there is a plan for it that does make sense. And if the fandom doesn't like it? Okay! We'll just kick it under a rug and not talk about it. Skybound may try to promote it, but if it ends up being that poorly received, there is nothing that Skybound, nor canon, can do about it.

After digging around a little, I’ve come to one conclusion: Skybound hired the wrong person for this.

Walden is known for writing non-fictional pieces—or, at least, works heavily inspired by her own life. To the point where she received an Eisner Award for it. Walden is also not a greyscale artist. The crux of her art comes from color, which is why people have said that the cover of this comic looks better than what’s inside.

That, and, Skybound probably hired someone who is not adept at writing fanfiction. Because if that is the case, I can see how her being a (loose) autobiographical storyteller is actually exacerbating that.

This alone, however, isn’t really the core issue. Storytellers can absolutely expand in writing different genres. So I do commend Walden for taking that leap. However, I think she bit more than she could chew because, rather than adjusting her process to compensate for the shift in story type, she treated Clementine the same as her other works. Which is…reckless. For those who don’t know, writing fanfiction does feel different than original work. Because you are working different skills.

There are a slew of choices out there, other than Tillie Walden, that would have done better. But, there is something to be said about how those choices are out there only because other people took a chance on them. Every storyteller has been in her place, once upon a time. And sometimes they flop miserably before they succeed a great success. So if these comics do flop, I hope Walden does fit this bill and is able to come out with great successes later on.

Critique what you want about her work, in and outside of TWDG. I get that her style isn’t for everyone, and that critiquing elements of a story with an adored character is good. That’s how companies learn their audience. Just don't say that Walden’s here to cannibalize the fanbase. Nor harass her. Regardless of whether or not she has the necessary skills of a fanfiction writer as talked about, Walden is still just an artist that took on a job.

[End]

So…yeah. In the grand scheme of things, even though the comic may be "canon", it's still the interpretation of one person—which isn't true to how the games work, nor Clementine as a character. The "canonicity" of this work is…really not strong. I don't care if Skybound will shove it down our throats that it is. It just isn't. Not if we don’t want it to. Not unless we consider the comic Clementine as a different iteration of the character entirely. Clementine is special to us because she directly reflects each and every one of our interpretations of her. The character shifts with our perceptions, and thusly our decisions made. If you're still angered by the comic, just remember that. "Canon" or not, the comic's Clementine still won't be your Clementine—just as much as my alcoholic one isn't. (Lol.)

I get it. The comic stands as a slap to the face and just pisses all over the entirety of Clementine’s journey. And A.J. Who has been around since the second season. Many of us find it absolutely appalling for Skybound to pull with Tillie as the writer. Sure. To the point where the comic’s Clementine has been deemed “Tangerine”.

But, if you're one to give chances and be optimistic, and you feel like giving the comic a shot, go right on ahead. Pre-order it. See to it that Tillie knows what she's doing and winds up crafting a salvageable story. A masterpiece? Um…no. Hopefully I’m wrong, though, and that she has a plan that makes sense, in the end. So who knows? Maybe you'll even stumble upon a storyteller that you actually appreciate, even with all this TWDG game-comic-Clementine nonsense.

Again, though, given the nature of the games, one comic made by a person won't destroy all Clementines. It simply can't… As I said, the comic is another iteration. Something that you could completely separate from the games. Your Clementine is your Clementine, and mine is mine. You know your Clementine; if your Clementine can't perceivably leave the school kids, and do anything she does in the comics, then she won't. It's that easy.

And though I’m not here to tear anyone a new anything, I know Clementine certainly won’t be the Clementine in the comics. Speaking of, I'm going back to my fanfiction. I have an alcoholic to write. ;)

(...when I'm not a shit updater. Lol.)

If you did read all of this, thank-you. I know it's a lot. But, ah well, fandom and passion and all that. Seriously though, I get it, but don't drag down a comic writer for taking on a job—even if it's downright terrible. We live in a society, and stuff. Give any just criticism, sure (this essay certainly did), but don't forget that the comic will not matter if you don't want it to. That is how canon works, in fact. Sure, there’s copyright and stuff, but stories develop overtime with the fandom, given that fandom can last longer than its creator. So yeah. As for myself, I'll continue writing my fics. I'm not interested in the comic, but I wouldn't mind seeing Tillie's work outside of TWDG. Actually do plan to keep an eye out for her stuff, all things considered.

With all that though, here are the links I promised. :D

Clementine Comic: Chapter One | Chapter Two

Walden Interview (with commentary) | DomTheBomb Channel

Tillie Walden: Website | ON A SUNBEAM Webcomic

Kent Mudle: Twitter | Tumblr | Website

PS: I STILL WANT THOSE BOMBASS VARIANT COVERS AS POSTERS I DON’T CARE I WILL DRAIN MYSELF OF MY RESOURCES FOR THEM PLEAAAAASE.

[jasntodds]

Petrichor Chapter 1 Teaser

Pairing: Jason Todd x Fem!Powered!Reader (little bit of fwb)

Words: 1,291

Chapter Warnings: Swearing, fluff

Summary: ❝Pylades: I’ll take care of you. Orestes: It’s rotten work. Pylades: Not to me. Not if it’s you.❞

Gotham is home, not just for Jason but for you, too. And now that you’re both finally back home, together, you’re ready to see where this next chapter brings the two of you. He’s your best friend and you’re his. And you both might want a little something more with being back home, the place you both feel most comfortable. Surely, nothing could possibly go wrong now.

A/N: I wanted to post a teaser because why not honestly lol so full chapter will out next Wednesday!! I hope you guys like this little bit!! If you wanna be tagged in this series, you can send me ask, comment, or click the link below to add yourself to the tag list!! 

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Jason’s been…touchy today. The two of you have always joked and played chicken with each other. You’re always the chicken. But, today, he’s very touchy and you don’t mind but you’re wondering why that is. What changed in the month you’ve been a part that Jason is suddenly touchy? And Jason knows he’s doing it. A part of him is doing it because it’s just you. He doesn’t have to worry about overstepping his best friend anymore. You can play this game the way Jason likes to play. A little more contact, make the game of chicken a little more thrilling. And the other part of him, wants to see where it’ll actually go. For real this time, despite everything.

“But I have won because this is comfortable.” You give him a large toothy grin and Jason does that crooked smile, where he’s almost biting his bottom lip, like he’s thinking something mischievous. And you swear he’s the prettiest person you've ever met.

Jason leans forward, plucking the book off the coffee table in front of the two of you. You watch him carefully over your phone. Jason lifts his legs up, yours still on top of his, and rests his feet on the coffee table before opening the book where he has a piece of paper as a book mark. The bruise on his jaw shines against the low light, moving with his jaw as he swallows. You find yourself thinking you like the way the bruises always look on his skin. He looks perfect even with the blacks and blues and purples and reds. But, the other part of you, hates that he’s covered in bruises. He never should be.

You sit all the way up and move closer to him, placing your fingers on his jaw. Jason’s heart stutters in his chest but he lets you finish. You turn his face so you can get a look at the bruises that hug his jaw and paint his opposite eye. Your touch is so gentle and tender, Jason isn’t sure if he’d ever get used to it. It’s been so long since he’s felt this, he almost wants to jump right out of his skin. But, he doesn’t dare move because despite his better judgement, he likes when you’re like this. It’s a side of you no one else ever really get to see and it makes him feel wanted.

 “What happened?” You ask softly.

Jason is like a graphite drawing, small details in colored pencil. Messy and decorated with shades of blues and purples. But beautiful and soft. Despite the messy smudges and the accidental hard edges and hand prints, he’s so beautiful. He is this beautiful graphite masterpiece that you think should be on display everywhere. There is an effortless about him and ease about him. He pays those purple and blue splotches no mind as the corner of his mouth quirks into his signature grin. He’s so unbothered and pretty. The graphite isn’t damaged or too messy, the smudges make him…him.

“Dickweed got a few lucky hits in.” Jason scoffs and there’s a tiny bit of arrogance that flashes across his eyes. “Got ‘em back though.” Jason wiggles his brows and you brush your thumb over the bruise on his jaw line before shaking your head.

“Of course you did.” You laugh softly, pulling your hand away and Jason just almost grabs your hand back.

You knew you missed him. That was obvious every single day. A coldness came over like the first cold front of the winter. Expected but disappointing anyway. You didn’t know you missed this much. You had no idea you gave him this part of yourself and he took it back to Gotham with him. You think of the Iron Giant, how when he blew up and parts of himself went everywhere, his parts echoed, finding home. You think that’s how your heart is with him. He has a part of it, maybe without even knowing, and your heart beats and aches until you’re with him. You never realized that’s what the pain was until now, now that’s it gone.

You, instead of going back to his face, wrap your arms around his neck and pull him into you. The hug catches him off guard, you hug him but there’s usually some bigger reason behind it. Deathstroke, almost dying twice, leaving, meeting again. There’s usually something bigger there but Jason doesn’t get the sense that’s what this hug is for. So, he reaches up and hugs you back.

You scare him. Jason Todd is not supposed to be scared of anything and lately fear has been taking over his life. And he’s scared of you, but not in that petrifying and paralyzing way that’ll get him killed one day. He’s scared because you’ve been here before and he backed out. He pushed and ran and then you ran. You’re runners and pushers, it’s embedded so tightly through your DNA, Jason doesn’t think anything would ever stop either of you. And he’s so scared to let himself exist with you in the way he so desperately wants to. He could never handle you leaving him and he couldn’t handle hurting you. So, he pulls away, not too far, but enough to look at you.

“What’s up?” Jason asks, his eyes darting over your face and his expression is careful, desperate not to give away the ache of his chest.

You shake your head, biting the inside of your cheek. “Can’t hug you?”

“Always got a reason.” The corner of his mouth twitches up but it’s sad. If someone hugs him, even you, there’s usually a reason.

”I just missed you.” You shrug your shoulders with ease.

Jason can feel the heat creeping onto his face. “You’ve said like six fucking times today.” Jason lets out this laugh that you swear is better than any sound you’ve ever heard before. “I knew you wanted me, but fuck.”

“Shut the fuck up.” You let out a groan but you can’t get the smile to fall from your face. “Want you.” You scoff. “You’re the one who wants me.” 

The smirk dances across Jason’s face. “Babe, if I wanted you, I’d have you.”

“Yeah, okay.” You roll your eyes. “Like to see you fucking try, Jay.” You taunt and there’s nothing hold you back from it now. You aren’t a Titan right now. There’s no Gar or Rose. It’s literally just the two of you for the first time since you’ve known each other. And you see Jason pause and you’ve won. “Mhm, exactly. I win.” You hum triumphantly, leaning back against the arm of the couch and Jason doesn’t take losing gently.

If this is game you want to play, he’ll play ball. No one else is here anyway. Jason gets this darkness that crosses his eyes and you do is smile to yourself proudly, going back to looking at your phone. You’re positive, for once, he doesn’t have a come back. But, Jason sticks his finger in his book and stretches his right arm out, grabbing the collar of your hoodie and pulling you forward, bringing you an inch from his face.

Your eyes nearly bug out of your head, your breath catches in the very back of your throat. You swear you can taste your heartbeat in your mouth. Your stomach flips upside down, your bones feel like they’re turning to jell-o. How the fuck does he do that? His eyes are forest green in the low light of the living room and you swears it’s your favorite color now. That specific shade of green that should be named after Jason, himself.

Jason’s eyes dart between your eyes and your lips, he’s doing it on purpose. Jason does everything with intention. Impulsive? Yes. But, he has a purpose for everything that he does. He’s careful even when he’s impulsive.

“Mhm, exactly.” Jason’s voice is low, mocking you.

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[mmkin]

I guess Arlong's my new muse lol

Not that that's a bad thing. Ever since I was a teenager, I'd fall for characters in animes, tv shows, etc. I.e. Myotismon, Tom Hiddleston's Loki, Penguin from the DC universe, En Sabah Nur/Apocalypse from the Marvelverse. I know I'm hardly unique in having blorbos/husbandos (or waifus)/a fantasy harem. Though it wasn't the only thing about these fandoms I liked - I appreciate the universe/fandom/stories, and the characters I like specifically is just one part of that.

Over the last few years I had been struggling with depression and other mental health issues (that predated COVID) and had struggled creatively, not being able to draw anything (part of this was from burnout and other shit but I digress) and writing felt like a chore, I constantly felt like what I wrote wasn't good enough.

The last two years were also a real struggle at work because of an abusive manager and dickbag boss and shitty company, and the issues had been escalating the previous year, taking a great toll on me physically and mentally (was literally overworked and had been for a good while) Last October, I suffered from a work-related health issue and my doctor mandated I take off from work for a month. Not long before this happened, I had started watching the live action One Piece and really enjoying myself.

My month break from work gave me plenty of time to watch the live action all over as well as a big part of the anime including yes, the Arlong Park Arc. And that sharkman... oh lord I have never simped for anyone so hard.

So I started writing OP fanfiction, but not only that, my creative juices were flowing better overall. I finally finished the manuscript for my novel Moonshadows, I started some new projects, made good progress on other projects, and finished a few more projects. Those who follow me on AO3 will have noticed this, of course, but there's plenty happening behind the scenes as well because I am also working on a few fun original projects.

In the last few months, I got more writing done than I did in the last few YEARS.

All because of Arlong. It's like my Arlong simping unlocked my creativity not just for him but other things because I'm also drawing again after not drawing anything for years. it's insane really, but I am grateful to my sharkman for taking such good care of me and inspiring my creativity.

I also have a new Arlong project in the works since my current Arlong project only has a couple of chapters left. All aboard the simp train and let's see where it takes us.

I think Arlong might have also devoured my old muse but that's ok because the old muse was a lazy cunt who did nothing for me.