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pbelfz · 1 year

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Two to One | 13 |

Pairing: Bakugou x Reader x Midoriya Chapter Title: Default Dance Chapter 12 | Chapter 14 Story Masterlist Summary: You are a simple college girl working at a cheap, back alley café! The top heroes, Deku and Ground Zero, visit your work in hopes of ordering coffee, but they pick something else up instead. You begin an interesting relationship with the pair, while slowly becoming aware of certain underhanded tactics they are using. Idolization isn't always that bad... Right?

WARNINGS: controlling, manipulative?

Deku never smiled as much as he did on television.

Izuku came down with a hearty fever within the first two nights of (Y/n) officially moving in.

Katsuki was quick to point his finger at her, blaming her for bringing her city germs into the house, but Izuku insisted one of his high school interns was coughing in his office a few days prior. Regardless, Katsuki kept his distance from both of them.

In the few hours he was awake, Izuku worked from home, sending reports to his agency secretaries and signing off on investigation collaborations. He slept most of the day otherwise, leaving (Y/n) alone in the spacious house.

All of her personal belongings were relocated to the new house, but it’d been an overwhelming feat to unpack most of the boxes – not that she had that many to begin with. Still, it gnawed at her how final this all seemed. She couldn’t help but feel like she jumped the gun a little too quickly when she saw the face her RA gave her when they exchanged lease documentation.

She’d never lived with any of her previous partners before. What would she tell Hana if she wanted to come over to hang out? Would Deku or Katsuki even be okay with her having guests at all? The last time she recalled needing approval for friends visiting was when she lived with her parents.

Her frown tightened as she performed the next dance move of Rich Girl by Gwen Stefani. She remained sour even as the TV screen dinged, signifying a perfect score.

Izuku groaned into the pillow, hearing the music travel up the stairs and into the master bedroom. Even with the door closed, it grew harder and harder for him to block out the nasally ‘Nana na na na na’s, the ache in his head pulsing with each beat, right behind his forehead. He texted (Y/n) a few minutes ago to turn the TV down, but she must not have seen it. He supposed this was his cue to get up.

Izuku – slowly, with no urgency about him – made his way to the kitchen. His cold was getting worse, but he didn’t want to worry Katsuki or (Y/n). He glanced at (Y/n) in the living room once he reached the bottom of the stairs, and on a normal day, his interest would’ve piqued to see her playing Just Dance.

However, today was not that day.

He turned and continued to the kitchen.

Izuku’s eyes could hardly stay open as he made himself a cup of peppermint tea, adding some honey for his throat. He took his time with it. Why not, right? Gwen Stefani was serenading him.

Deku never smiled as much as he did on television. That was one of the first things (Y/n) noticed when she moved in.

‘If I was a rich girl, nana na na na na–,’

(Y/n) was completely enthralled in the game, but once she turned around for a spin, she locked eyes with Izuku, who was leaning against the wall with his cup of tea.

“EE-eezuku!” She covered her mouth to conceal the tail end of her yelp before scrambling to finally turn off that damn game. “How long–?”

“Did you get my text?” Izuku cut (Y/n) off more harshly than intended, which took her by surprise. He’s never the one to do that. Izuku noticed his slip-up as quickly as she did, and he took a sip of his tea, glancing at the floor.

“No, I left my phone upstairs. What did it say?” (Y/n)’s voice was soft, worried that she missed something important. Izuku shifted his weight, his reply just as soft as hers, much gentler than his previous interruption.

“I was just trying to sleep,” his gaze flickered to the TV hanging on the wall behind her. (Y/n) got the hint.

“Oh… I’m sorry.”

Izuku nodded before turning away, withdrawing from her. “It’s okay.”

(Y/n) couldn’t help but feel compelled to follow him to the kitchen.

“How are you feeling?”

Izuku opened the fridge, bending over to check the lower shelves for something quick to eat. “Better.”

“Good.” She withheld the urge to feel his forehead to check his fever.

Izuku grabbed some bread, meat, and cheese to make a sandwich. He didn’t look at (Y/n) as he reached for condiments, which were right next to her.

Is he really that upset that she didn’t turn the TV down?

“Are you mad at me?”

It’s only natural to ask.

Izuku finally looked up at (Y/n), his face almost appalled at the question. “No,” was all he offered before biting into his sandwich and walking past her. “Just tired. And sick.”

He left her in the kitchen by herself.

With all of the audacity Katsuki carries, (Y/n) never anticipated how attentive he was towards Izuku.

She felt creepy, watching from the doorway as Katsuki spoon-fed Izuku the last of the homemade soup his mother dropped off. (Y/n) was in class when Mitsuki came by, but from what little Katsuki shared of his homelife, the Bakugous were a gourmet family, so it was no surprise they had their own recipe for everything.

Regardless of how big the house was, (Y/n) still felt lumpy and in the way. Katsuki brushed by her when they crossed paths in the hallways, almost purposefully knocking shoulders with hers. She didn’t have the heart to ask him if he actually was doing it on purpose, though; she still felt like a guest here.

More so now than ever, as she watched Katsuki kneel by the edge of bed, stroking the back of Izuku’s neck. Izuku was dozing off with a cooling pad on his forehead. They were muttering to each other about something, and Katsuki wore just a hint of a smile on his face as he monitored a drowsy Deku. (Y/n) didn’t want to interrupt them. They surely noticed she was there, but Katsuki wasn’t going to make an effort to call her in; Izuku was the priority at the moment. She observed how they looked at each other, and a black, tarry pit in her stomach kept telling her it was different from how they looked at her. Their hands found one another, Katsuki’s thickened skin naturally a comfort for Izuku, just as Izuku’s scars were for Katsuki.

(Y/n) hoped she caught the flu next week.

She turned and went back downstairs.

Days passed, and Izuku’s cold lessened into an irritating sore throat.

Izuku became antsy, not accustomed to being away from work for so long. The house was spotless from the compulsive cleaning he did when Katsuki wasn’t around (he would’ve gotten yelled at). (Y/n) gently suggested he continue resting, but her words went ignored. She then offered to help but was disregarded. That was fine with her; she was behind on her assignments because of her shifts at Satou’s.

Izuku’s weights clanged in the basement gym while she proofread a 10-page essay. (Y/n)’s fingers tapped on the keyboard, unable to focus on her work as she listened to her boyfriend work out. Two minutes passed, and there was silence. (Y/n) fixed a sentence on her document.

Clang!

She paused and waited.

Silence for another minute.

(Y/n) read another paragraph.

Clang!

Her concentration muddled once more, she groaned and closed her laptop.

Izuku almost instantly threw himself back into hero duty the second Katsuki’s mothering radar subsided.

The Bakugou-Midoriya-(Y/n) household found what their “normal” was.

Disgruntled Katsuki.

Overworked Izuku.

Unoccupied (Y/n).

It’s not like she was necessarily waiting for them to do anything with her! It’s just this situation screamed “roommates”. Isn’t that what they were now, though? Roommates with benefits, except they haven’t done anything sexual since Izuku’s got sick. (Y/n) wanted to talk to the two heroes to clear up any boundaries, but the throuple were hardly ever in the house at the same time. (Y/n) busied herself with schoolwork, carrying about her business as she usually would back in her apartment, except now there were two hunkering men lumbering about.

“Deku and I made dinner reservations for all of us tomorrow,” Katsuki mentioned over his shoulder.

Neither of them bothered to mention this to her before right now. (Y/n) tightened her lip to keep from rolling her eyes.

“I don’t think I can go. I’m going out tomorrow,” (Y/n) pondered aloud, scrolling through Instagram on her phone.

Katsuki’s attention, previously only halfway in the conversation, was now yanked fully into it. He finished his rep, setting the weighted barbell above him on the bar holder before sitting up on the bench. Sweat gleamed from his torso, and he grabbed the nearest rag to wipe his forehead.

“This is the first time I’m hearing about this,” he grunted, glancing up at (Y/n). She shrugged, still invested in her phone.

“I guess it was kinda last minute.” A slight jab.

Katsuki was quiet for a moment, trying to be careful about his words. “Does Deku know?” He asked, trekking over to the dumbbells.

“Does Deku know what?” Izuku suddenly called from beyond the basement stairs, the sound of the front door closing behind him. (Y/n) glanced upwards, noting how Deku always appeared at just the right moment.

Izuku took his sneakers off in the foyer, exchanging them for his slippers before bounding down the stairs. He was noticeably tired, and even though he wasn’t in his hero costume anymore, his clothes still seemed worn. He may have run into another villain on the way home.

Katsuki snorted a dry laugh, giving (Y/n) a look as he began another set for his workout. The dumbbells were bigger than (Y/n)’s head.

“I’m just going to a karaoke party tomorrow. Maybe some barhopping,” (Y/n) peeped from her place on the floor next to the weight rack. Katsuki glanced at his partner.

Izuku’s mouth tightened ever so slightly, but only Katsuki caught it. “Oh.”

“Who are you going with?” Izuku asked, hiding the hesitance in his tone as he stepped further into the basement.

Katsuki set the dumbbells down much quieter than Izuku did. (Y/n) didn’t know why they were making such a big deal about this.

“Hana. My coworker from Satou’s.”

Both men appeared to be in thought.

Izuku spoke first. “We can talk about it after we shower, okay?” He suggested with a soft smile, leaning back as an invitation for (Y/n) to follow him upstairs to the bathroom. (Y/n) remained seated on the gym floor.

“What’s the big deal?” She asked. Part of her was looking for a fight; they felt it. She wanted to do something with her friends, and they finally decided now was the time to give her attention? Katsuki and Izuku looked at each other. Katsuki was more reclusive than Izuku when voicing his concerns, so he withdrew as he wiped the bench down with a rag. Izuku sighed.

“We’re just worried,” Izuku spoke for the both of them, as he naturally did. (Y/n) blinked, setting her phone to the side as she prepared to hear them out.

“About what? I’m gonna be with my friends.”

Izuku scratched the back of his ear and stepped over to her, crouching down to her height on the floor.

“Everyone there is cool, I promise,” (Y/n) softened her voice, trying to comfort them further.

“(Y/n), we’re concerned about the college culture.”

(Y/n) furrowed her brow at that and glanced at Katsuki, who was watching the exchange.

“What do you mean by th–?”

“Just don’t be a whore,” Katsuki all but blurted as he picked up his water bottle and started chugging.

“Katsuki!” Izuku shouted over his shoulder. The volume didn’t seem to affect Katsuki, but it made (Y/n) jump. There was a beat of silence, as if Izuku was debating on yelling something else, but instead he turned back to look at her with an apologetic expression.

“We’re just worried about drinking and all that,” Izuku tried to explain, returning to his regular pitch. (Y/n) glanced between both of his eyes and held her tongue because she was about to tell him he sounded more like a father than a hero. “While they may not be villains, some people can do pretty villainous things, like slip something into your drink. If you’re going to drink, keep your drink on your person, and try not to take your eye off of it,” Izuku warned. (Y/n) shifted, and although she felt like he was overexaggerating everything, she still felt uneasy under his gaze.

“Yeah, I know…”

“And can you text our groupchat when you get there tomorrow? What time is it at? And the address?” Izuku asked, pulling his personal phone out of his pocket.

“Yeah, of course. I was going to, anyway,” (Y/n) picked her own phone back up to check her texts with Hana. “Karaoke is at around 8:30 PM at 228 Yugun.”

“Text every thirty minutes,” came Katsuki’s request. (Y/n) looked over at him, then back at Izuku, who seemed to be typing the address and time into his phone reminders. There wasn’t any rebuttal from the other hero, so this seemed to be a consensus between the two of them.

“Okay.”

It was so much easier to socialize with Hana by (Y/n)’s side.

(Y/n) cheered along with everyone as Hana completed the song on the screen. It wasn’t perfect, but Hana laughed off her mistakes, something (Y/n) always admired about her.

Their other friend from school, Chiharu, was a naturally gifted singer and was getting high score after high score on each song. Natsuko and Jin, who were dating, sang a duet but were too tipsy to get a score above 37%. Every time someone offered (Y/n) the mic, she politely declined, satisfied with simply sipping on her drink and eating some of the platter.

“Jin fucked that one up that time!” Natsuko laughed, slipping her jacket off and resting it on the seat behind her. Jin was carefree and good-natured. Patient. Everyone in the group knew Jin and Nat were a good match. Jin was flipping through the available list of songs, her shoulder-length hair swaying when she wiped some of the beer from her lip.

“You can’t blame all of that on me,” Jin retorted playfully. Chiharu suddenly shot up from her seat, pointing at the screen.

“Wait! Pick that one! Pick that one! I know the Tiktok dance to it.”

“Oh, God, nooooooo, boooooo,” Hana moaned with a thumbs down.

“Wait, no, I wanna see her do it!” Came Nat from the other side of the room.

(Y/n) sunk into the couch, cradling her drink as she glanced from person to person, a blissful smile on her face. After a dedicated discussion, Jin finally picked the Tiktok song. Just as Chiharu was warming up for her dance, (Y/n)’s phone vibrated. She pulled it out of her bag.

(09:48) Katsuki : What time you coming back?

(09:50) (Y/N)ヾ☆* : not sure yet

Katsuki is typing…

(09:50) Katsuki : Can you ask?

(Y/n) sighed and scratched her head.

(09:51) (Y/N)ヾ☆* : i asked. No one knows

Katsuki started typing again. He was typing for a while, but then the bubble disappeared. (Y/n) stared at the screen. He began typing again.

(09:53) Katsuki : Deku’s picking you up

(09:53) Katsuki : When you’re done.

(Y/n) replied with a thumbs up emoji.

(09:54) Katsuki : So let us know when you’re almost done, so he can head over there.

(09:54) Katsuki : Are you drinking?

Jesus Christ, Katsuki can talk when he wants to. (Y/n) shifted in her seat, setting her drink down on the table in front of her so she can type with both hands. Hana eyed her.

(09:55) (Y/N)ヾ☆* : I will

(Y/n) didn’t know if he responded because she shoved her phone back into her bag. She looked over and saw Hana already looking at her.

“You okay?” Hana asked.

“Oh, yeah. Just group project stuff.”

Hana nodded, understanding. Nat then came over and handed mics to her and (Y/n).

“I picked out this duet just for you two.”

(Y/n) and Hana stood on the curb with their arms locked at the elbow as they waved goodbye to their friends, watching the three of them stumble away in the direction of their apartments. Jin and Natsuko lived together, and Chiharu lived in the complex around the corner from them. Hana lived on the opposite side of the city campus, so (Y/n) offered to walk her. They were both laughing at a video someone posted on Twitter of the Deku Fortnite skin.

“Why didn’t they include Shoto? Dynamight and Deku, but no Shoto?”

“I don’t know, maybe he didn’t approve it,” (Y/n) remarked, watching Deku’s character dance on Hana’s phone. “And with good reason.”

“And Dynamight did?!”

(Y/n) shrugged, sputtering a laugh. “Maybe Dynamight likes the game.” By force of habit, (Y/n) pulled her own phone out of her bag to check her notifications. She ended up ignoring it for most of the night, so she couldn’t imagine what she missed.

To her surprise, she only missed one text from Katsuki and one text from Izuku. Izuku was letting her know the time he was picking her up at, which was… in 3 minutes.

(Y/n) stopped walking, her sudden halt pulling Hana back. Hana looked at her, confused.

“So, my ride is actually a few minutes away, and I only gave them the address to the karaoke bar…”

Hana understood, and she smiled. “Oh, okay! Text me when you get home?”

(Y/n) didn’t think Hana realized she didn’t live on campus anymore.

“Of course.”

Izuku pulled up to the curb in the sleek black car he and Katsuki alternated driving. They had other cars, but they both must’ve preferred this one. It was 1 in the morning, and the streets were starting to quiet down.

He wordlessly unlocked the car, and (Y/n) popped into the passenger side, smiling. Izuku didn’t give much of a greeting as he pulled off as soon as she buckled in.

(Y/n) broke the silence first. “I didn’t know you were in Fortnite.”

It was dark in the car, but (Y/n) could see the way his brow furrowed as he drove, as if he were trying to recall what on earth she was referring to.

“Katsuki’s in Fortnite, too,” she giggled. “Your costumes look a lot different, though.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he was no louder than a mumble as he looked past (Y/n) to make a turn.

(Y/n) sunk into her seat, taking this as her cue to leave him alone. Where Katsuki pushed her when he was upset, Izuku ignored her.

“How was your night?” He finally asked, after the lights of the city became sparser. (Y/n) perked up.

“It was a lot of fun! I was a little nervous to sing, so I spent a lot of time watching my friends, but Hana and I did a song together near the end.”

She didn’t know, but Izuku could smell the alcohol on (Y/n)’s breath, and he slightly turned his head away from her as she spoke.

“You have a lot to drink?” He asked quietly, a hand leaving the steering wheel to scratch his ear.

“No, not a lot.”

“How much?”

“I don’t know, I wasn’t really–”

“How much, (Y/n)?”

(Y/n) looked over at him, blinking. Izuku’s gaze was still fixed on the road.

“I think no more than five,” she peeped. She watched him.

Izuku continued driving. They were almost home.

“You think?”

“I think, yeah.”

He was silent. He made another turn, and the light from a streetlamp shined down on half of his face, so (Y/n) could finally discern him. He appeared unaffected.

(Y/n) didn’t know what else to say, and whatever buzz she was feeling before quickly dissipated. She sat there with her hands folded in her lap. If this was Katsuki, she would’ve yelled back at him, but this was Izuku. Izuku has a different command about him.

The car was parked, and (Y/n) looked up. They were home. Izuku turned the car off, but he didn’t unbuckle. He turned to (Y/n), the light from the porch finally illuminating his face enough to give (Y/n) an emotion she recognized: pity.

“Please try to keep track next time.”

(Y/n) didn’t know what to say.

“Okay…”

Izuku got out of the car, closed the door, and headed inside with his hands in his pockets, leaving (Y/n) alone in the car.

#this is forever going to be the chapter that ive stared at for months #tto #bakudeku x reader #deku x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugou #deku x bakugou x reader #izuku midoriya x reader #izuku x reader #midoriya izuku x reader #mha x reader #bnha x reader

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lovelyhan · 2 years

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— again and again (a teaser) ⟢

pairing: mingyu x reader

summary: your mother calls one day, asking if you’re bringing mingyu along for chuseok this year. in your panic, you end up giving her an affirmative—never mind the fact that you and mingyu have stopped seeing each other over half a year ago.

word count: 1.7k words

tags: exes, fake dating, pining, idol!gyu, vet!reader, mild angst, fluff, smut (in later scenes; the teaser is completely sfw)

warnings: some medical jargon, mentions of shots (for pets)

notes: omg this is so long for a teaser, but it's fine LMAO i'll be away this weekend, so i thought i'd treat you guys to a little something i'm currently working on ^__^ i hope you like it!

When you hear the telltale ring as the call connects to its intended recipient, you wonder why you even considered this idea in the first place. Not to mention, you’re getting a nasty case of phone call anxiety—one that you haven’t felt in god knows how long. Maybe it’s because of the identity of the person you’re calling that your nerves are all over the place.

In fact, you’re not sure if he’s even going to answer. There are a million and a half reasons why famous superstar Kim Mingyu won’t be able to pick up your call. He could be shooting for a music video or some fashion magazine. He could be in the middle of an interview. Or he could be out spending time with his members like tends to these days if his recent Instagram posts are anything to go by.

But you try anyway because your mother sounded so hopeful in the phone call you just hung up on five minutes ago (The rice wine he got for us last Christmas was splendid! He’ll bring some again for Chuseok, won’t he?), that you just didn’t have the heart to tell her the truth.

So, because you can’t take back the pretty white lies you uttered (Uh, of course he will. Gyu told me he missed everyone back at home, too. Especially Namja), you’re attempting to rope Mingyu into the charade even if the odds are against you.

The first call doesn’t go through. Neither does the second.

By your third try, you’re about to accept the fact that you’re going to have to make some due corrections to what you told your mother until you hear a groggy, “Hello?” on the other line.

You nearly fall off your seat at the throaty sound of Mingyu’s voice, but you’d rather not get weird looks from your receptionist, so you breathe in as deeply (and quietly) as you can before mustering a smile that he won’t even be able to see.

“Hey, Mingyu, it’s me,” you begin, a bit proud of how your voice didn’t even falter. “It’s been a while. Did I catch you at a bad time?”

He doesn’t respond for a while, and the prolonged silence makes you bite the inside of your cheek. Did the call fall through? Did he not hear what you said? But just when you’re about to repeat the words—

“Kind of,” Mingyu grumbles, and you try not to think about how sexy his morning voice sounds despite it being two in the afternoon. “We finished taping a variety show today and I figured I’d get some sleep. It’s midnight right now.”

Well that’s news to you.

“Oh. You’re not in Korea?”

“Nah. We’re in New York for some brand collaborations,” he says, and you hear some rustling in the background, followed by a yawn. “Though I doubt you’ve been keeping tabs on us.”

Okay, he doesn’t have to call you out like that.

Sure, you still catch posts from Mingyu, as well as the other twelve members of SEVENTEEN from time to time, but…after breaking up with him (on good terms, promise!), you thought it’s best if you didn’t see too much of them anymore. The block and mute buttons are your best friends, and while you didn’t use them on the members directly, gossip outlets were your regular targets.

So to speak, it’s been a peaceful six months since your break up with Mingyu.

Until now.

“Do you need something?” he asks, and you realize you didn’t respond to what he said last. “Whatever it is, I might not be able to help you out right away. We’re holed up here until next month.”

Well…that’s all the confirmation you needed.

“I see,” you sigh, trying not to sound too disappointed. “It’s— It’s okay.”

“So you do need something,” Mingyu points out, voice much clearer now than it was two minutes ago. Like he was more awake. “What is it?”

“Nothing you should worry about, Gyu,” you reassure before making a face, not realizing how easily the old nickname just slipped out. “I’m sorry for waking you up. You should go back to—”

The sound of him whining at the other end sends another rush of vertigo through your entire being. “Come on, I’m awake anyways right? You know how hard it is for me to fall asleep again.”

“If I’d known we weren’t in the same continent, I wouldn’t have called altogether,” you say before quaintly adding, “Shit. This counts as an international call, doesn’t it?”

There’s someone else in the room with him, you think—a quiet drawl of Mingyu-hyung, what time is it? You immediately recognize it as Seungkwan.

“Five minutes from midnight,” Mingyu says, and Seungkwan asks another question that you aren’t able to catch. “Who am I talking to? Bookkeu and Bobpul’s worst enemy.”

“Hey!” You scowl at him. “They never even whined when you and Seungkwan brought them to me for their shots!”

“Noona? Why are you calling this guy?” Seungkwan says a bit more loudly for you to hear. “Didn’t you dump him already? Good choice, by the way.”

This time it’s Mingyu’s turn to utter out a semi-offended, “Hey! Mind your own business, Seungkwan-ah.”

A few minutes of bickering with his dongsaeng later, you figure that Mingyu must’ve gone outside of their hotel room for some privacy. You can vaguely hear the sound of the wind blowing on his end before he heaves a deep sigh.

“Sorry about that.” He coughs awkwardly. “Anyway, if you’re not going to tell me about what you needed help with, how are you? Is the clinic doing well? Did your receptionist finally ditch her shitty boyfriend? Does that one guy with a husky still hit on you?”

You’re a little overwhelmed by the sudden influx of questions. Last you checked, you haven’t spoken to Mingyu since you greeted him on his birthday over a quick text message. But then again, your ex does have a talent for completely ignoring the time that exists in between interactions. Mingyu’s always been amicable for conversation, idol or not, boyfriend or not.

The mere thought that he hasn’t changed at all makes your heart ache in more ways than one.

You manage a quiet laugh. “I’m fine. The clinic’s fine. Chae has a new boyfriend now. He even helps us sort out new products on the shelves sometimes.”

At the mention of her name, your receptionist whips her head in your direction, one brow raised. You shake your head with a smile, gesturing that this is nothing she should even be remotely concerned about.

It’s just Mingyu after all.

“Okay, how about the guy who—”

“I turned him down when he asked me out for lunch last week.”

He whistles. “Ouch. And he’s been trying to get with you all this time.”

“I don’t usually date my clients, you know.”

“Yeah? I must be special then.”

Then comes the silence—so thick, you can cut through it with a knife.

“Uh, so I have a patient coming in an hour for a castration procedure,” you tell him a bit awkwardly. “Gotta prepare everything before the owner arrives.”

Mingyu sighs, and you can almost imagine him pouting. “You’re really not gonna tell me? I can still help you with whatever you need even when I’m out here. Unless it requires me to, you know, physically be there.”

You chuckle. “That’s the thing, Gyu. You can’t help me because I need you to actually be here.”

“Oh. Why? What for?”

You inhale sharp breath through your nose, closing your eyes as your face warms with embarrassment. Chae is definitely looking at you funnily from her station now, but you tell yourself not to give it too much thought.

“Mom asked if I was bringing you with me for Chuseok,” you admit. “I haven’t been home since Christmas, so… They kind of have no idea that we aren’t together anymore.”

Mingyu falls silent for a while yet again, and you realize that your anxiousness spikes whenever he isn’t talking like there’s no tomorrow. You wonder if he’s figured out what you’re trying to insinuate and is silently berating you for the lapse in judgment. But when Mingyu bursts out laughing on the other end, you suddenly don't mind being on the receiving end of his silence after all.

“No way,” he gasps between chuckles. “You were going to ask me to pretend to be your boyfriend over the holidays, weren’t you?! One of the fans wrote a story about the exact same thing once, except it’s between me and Wonwoo-hyung. It was in English though, but Vernon translated it pretty well.”

…Kim Mingyu admitting to reading fanfiction about himself and Wonwoo aside, you groan. “What am I supposed to do? My family loves you. I’d rather not dampen the Chuseok spirit by saying their favorite son has unfortunately made his unannounced exit half a year ago.”

“So you’re willing to pretend we’re still together just to keep them happy?”

“Well, yeah. It’s not like you’re an ex I should be ashamed of, Gyu.”

“Because I’m an idol that millions are vying for?”

You roll your eyes. “No. It’s because out of all my exes, you’re the only one that Namja actually likes. That’s pretty much the highest honor you can receive in your entire life.”

Your heart does a little flip when Mingyu barks out another light-hearted laugh. You tell yourself that you’re only reacting that way because…it has been a while since you talked to him. That, and Mingyu was always so smiley whenever you brought up your ten year-old retriever.

“Point taken,” he says. “I’d totally be down to help you out, but…yeah.”

“I knew you would be,” you reply, a sad smile ghosting your features. “That’s why I called.”

Silence settles over the line once again, but it’s, by no means, awkward. It’s more…sentimental. Like two old friends reminiscing about the good memories you shared.

Huh. You’re friends with Mingyu…

“Anyway, thanks for catching up with me, Mingyu,” you tell him before you end up saying something you’re not supposed to. “I’ll get going now. Good night.”

“Hey—”

You end the call before he can have the chance to make you falter.

end notes: like the teaser so far? leave a reply if you haven't filled out my taglist form yet and would like to be tagged once the full story is up!

edit: the full fic is up here!

#seventeen fanfic #seventeen smut #svt fanfic #svt smut #kim mingyu #seventeen mingyu #mingyu #mingyu x reader #seventeen x reader #lovelyhan

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utilitycaster · 8 months

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ok just a list of even more questions re: Ruidus and its creation and society and basically everything

How much of the creation myths are true? Are bormodos descended from dwarves or halflings or something, or were they drastically changed by Predathos, or something in between? Were cytaa lizardfolk once?

Similarly are Reilora entirely of Predathos or do they have an Exandrian counterpart?

Absolutely fucking wild guess here that's almost certainly wrong but also this took place in the Founding and we don't even know how long the Age of Arcanum was; are bormodos and cytaa and reilora somehow truer to what Exandria was at the time, a la how the North American English accent is arguably closer to the 1600s British English Accent than many modern British accents are?

(my planetary science knowledge is limited and I respect if Matt "oh shit forgot about the polar day/night cycle in the summer in the arctic" Mercer decides to handwave that because frankly you can just say Magic! but why does Ruidus have similar gravity to the much larger Exandria as well as a seemingly comparable atmosphere)

How much of the "design" claimed in the Imperium's religion is in fact deliberate and how much is simply claimed? Are flares purposeful or involuntary? Are they made by Predathos or by the Weave Mind or by Ludinus's bullshit at this point?

Not a question so much as an observation but given that traditionally psionics are INT based in D&D and the Vanguard is sorcerers this explains a whole lot about how dysfunctional it is as an organization: in keeping with the sorcerer theme, it's the most "dish it out but can't take it" group of people that ever existed. You could DEVASTATE these CHA-based fools with a well-placed Synaptic Static, psychic resistance or no.

Did Otohan discover the method by which one became Exaltant via her experiences in the war? This would explain a lot and be literally by far the most interesting thing about her.

Literally though how would one of the Vanguard members who joined due to religious trauma respond to being taken to The Religious Trauma Capital? Are they all going to turn around and be like "well now I'm the one in power, so it's okay" (which is not uncommon as a response irl and would be fascinating to unpack) or are some of them going to turn upon realizing they're just trading one religion for another?

How long ago did the Vanguard and Imperium begin collaborating? For that matter, when did Ludinus specifically get involved given that only Exaltants could do anything with Reilora prior to the solstice?

The most recent Reilora Imogen summoned was not of the Imperium, but Kadija noted that the kinder Reilora Exaltants met in their dreams were sometimes replaced by more aggressive Reilora. Is it a crapshoot whether she summons a Reilora friendly to her cause or unfriendly? Is this also true of the Vanguard Exaltants?

#matthew mercer i am in your nonfunctional chimney #cr spoilers #btw stealthy tags bit but i think that post picking apart how dragons can fly bc magic is dumb #like if that's the point of your story yes dive into it #if that's not relevant then. it is FINE.

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sizzlingpatrolfox · 9 months

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one thing that always made me wonder, especially when i don't have much to occupy myself (like right now lol), is why bang pd didn't let bts have solo activities as a whole prior to 2023, and why he limited solo activities just to the rap line. when i think about it, it would've been so much better for the members to have sparsed, natural solo debuts in-between their promotions as bts, like every other group does. the impression i had during this entire year is how those solo debuts and promotions felt forced and rushed. i wonder if hybe withheld some rap line releases (like jitb, even d-day) for 2023. then, you have members who clearly didn't have nothing to release, but were forced to just to tick the "solo debut" box, like jungkook and taehyung.

sometimes, when i entertain the idea of earlier solo debuts, i wonder if some of the misconceptions armys have always had about jimin wouldn't be erased, i.e when some diet solos and antis helped spread through the fandom that he's not creative or musically inclined or artistic. it makes me even question why some of his collaborations in early bts songs were ommited for so long, like when he said that the original dna melody was trash or literally came up with the melody for bs&t. i don't blame pjms who believe in some hardcore conspiracy theories about hybe/jimin, because it does look like the company had an agenda against him from the beginning. also, it would've helped so much to humble the Real Husbands™️ and tame their egos and their insane solos, because jungkook and taehyung were the ones who benefited the most from this arrangement. they could tease their legendary mixtapes and snippets of their songs as much as they wanted, be labeled as the artistic geniuses and creative artists and never release a single song. it's so funny to me that the "most artistic and creative" members of bts were the ones who didn't even try to release something they wrote/produced for their debuts. and the member deemed the least artistic just dropped a whole self-produced masterpiece.

to me, this whole solo era really made me open my eyes to which members are in bts because they want to be artists and performers and which ones are there just to ride the fame wave.

The "most artistic and creative" members of bts were the ones who didn't even try to release something they wrote/produced for their debuts. and the member deemed the least artistic just dropped a whole self-produced masterpiece.

FUNNY THAT..

I think there was probably a general understanding between them that the time for solo releases would come once they went into hiatus, and that's why they didn't release before. I mean, jitb, dday, the examples you gave. I thought the same about Jungkook and Taehyung, who were allegedly writing music since 2019 for their solo "mixtapes". I thought, maybe they didn't release it two years ago because they knew they'd had their moment to do only that.

It's not a secret why they didn't all get solo debuts before this, and it's just because the group was the focus. The company doubled down on the "ot7" agenda after 2017, when they won that Billboard Social award, because they understood that people liked them as a group, and that's where they'd make the most money. "If it's not broken, don't fix it" kind of thing.

There was an interview where bangpd said that if the members wanted to release solo music, they had to work on it themselves, that they didn't get help from the company. Which -lies, because rapline still got help. I always thought that they were allowed to release solo music because they were able to do it, of course; but also because BTS whole image was created around the premise that the members did their own music. Allowing rapline to release their solo works kept feeding this narrative. Not that it was a fake narrative, but it was basically the core of the BTS lore. And that's how the company itself also helped foster the idea that rapline were so superior because they wrote music.

They eventually did the same with Jungkook. Slowly, but surely. He started talking about releasing his mixtape in 2019, and in 2020 only he got a song stay in BE, still with you, your eyes tell, film out. I don't know if I'm forgetting something else from that year.

Yoongi said he'd wanted to give Jimin his song People, and the company didn't let him. Right after that they said, let's get a Yoongi song and give it to Jungkook. That was stay alive.

What would've been so wrong about Jimin singing in Yoongi's album?

The devil works hard, but hybe worked even harder for Jungkook's 209849 solo debutSSSS.

Everyone in BE had a song... except Jimin, even though he said he had presented three songs for the album. The only thing they ended up choosing from Jimin was the bridge in disease, which was literally the best part of the album by a landslide according to everyone's opinion lmao.

Then Jungkook went and posted the bridge he'd done and got rejected because why let Jimin have a moment for himself, right? Funny that whole attitude carried on onto their solo careers.

About earlier solo careers changing the opinion of the fandom regarding Jimin... maybe? I'm not sure. I don't think it's lack of proof of Jimin's character or anything, it's the narratives the members and company have drilled into the fandom's collective brain on one side, and on the other side there's the fandom's own reluctancy to acknowledge Jimin in a serious manner. I've said before it's almost as if they like having him under their thumb, they need to control him or at least control the way others think about him, hence their constant fighting with pjms only while they don't care about the other members' solo fans.

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chatonarya · 3 months

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Now that it's been a few days, I can gather my thoughts and write a more proper impression of The Rides to Lake Silberneherze (RS). I'll preface by saying, if it's not obvious by now, that Break The Ice (BI) was my favorite Arknights story, and I both anticipated and slightly dreaded the continuation of that storyline, as I felt the plot of BI ended so neatly that for a while I genuinely did not know how the writers could possibly follow up on it. When RS was first announced and released on CN six months ago, most of my fears were assuaged by the event's tone and overall opinions and hearsay from the CN side. What followed was then six months of great anticipation and excitement, and at long last, having read RS, I am extremely happy to say that it met my hopes and expectations in the best of ways. Spoilers below the cut.

Plot-wise, it felt rather similar to BI in that it's fairly self-contained, which is something I enjoyed. Despite the fact that much of the plot revolves around the Victorian presence in Kjerag and the Caster connection which was foreshadowed a while ago, the story still feels as though it's about Kjerag's problems and the Kjerag characters, as opposed to ZH where Federico and Arturia aren't even Leithanian. The external elements do not overwhelm the internal ones and the focus remains on the Kjerag cast, though Kjerag's problems are shifting somewhat now from their internal conflicts to external ones as they open up and begin to connect to other nations, but it's well-handled. As the clans get along and unite, naturally now they turn their eyes outward, and though the internal rivalry doesn't fully disappear, it's more tempered and friendly now rather than destructive.

Speaking of which, it was great to see the three clans getting along and working together with minimal vitriol. Ratatos shares information and resources with Enciodes and Gnosis, and Project One clearly appears to be a collaborative effort between the Browntails and Karlan Trade; they've clearly made amends from the events of BI where it was revealed that Ratatos and Enciodes really weren't so different. Though the Paleroches remain Kjerag's conservative faction, they don't seem to be quite as unfriendly to outsiders as before, particularly as part of their former attitude is explained with Arctosz's backstory and relationship with Tatyana (though admittedly we don't see much of the Paleroches this time other than Arctosz and his father).

I really also enjoyed seeing how the characters have developed since BI. It feels as if they've all changed, for the better, as if they've taken the lessons and experiences of BI to heart. Ratatos now shares more of her work with Sciurus; Sciurus is no longer as short-sighted; the Browntails and the Silverashes are properly collaborating; the Paleroches are less violent and suspicious, though maybe it's unfair to say that when Arctosz has his own arc that he goes through. Enciodes is no longer quite as reserved as before, seeming to delegate more of his responsibilities to others rather than attempting to "shoulder all of Kjerag" by his lonesome; Gnosis, too, has mellowed slightly in his time away and isn't quite as sharp-tongued or hot-tempered, not to mention Gnosis taking Degenbrecher's comments about both of them communicating poorly to heart in the end and not only thanking Enciodes for sharing his thoughts but telling Enciodes what he knows he wants to hear. Enciodes and Enya also both slip more into something like bickering siblings, both admitting that they don't actually disagree on that many things regarding Kjerag's development, but though it's clear that they're still going to butt heads in the future due to their different attitudes, their relationship is no longer beyond repair. Kjera showing more of her human side with her annoyance about her statue was very funny as well, further expanding her mischievous streak from before.

It was also lovely to see everyone again, even the minor characters like Valais and Gulo when they appear (however briefly). I'd also be remiss if I didn't say how much I was utterly charmed by the burdenbeasts, from their adorable appearances to their intelligence to how intertwined they are with the Kjerag people. (It's easy to see how Harold became a Kjeragaboo, shall we say.)

The highlight for me of course was the Karlan Trio. I think my favorite scene is the one at the end of RS-ST-2, where they're sitting about in the Karlan Trade lobby. I don't think I have enough words of praise to describe how wonderful it was to see the three of them letting down their guards, their facades, whatever pretense they wear for the outside world and just cracking in-jokes with each other, bickering affectionately, and laughing. The idea that the three of them are actually good friends beneath everything is something that I've long speculated on ever since BI, and to receive confirmation of it like this is more than I ever hoped for. And not just in this scene, but even in the smaller interactions and during the climax, where both Enciodes and Gnosis are openly worried about Degenbrecher, their friendship shone through, even though they often express themselves in a roundabout and tsundere way to each other.

The "miracle" at the end contrasts very much so with the one in BI, in a positive way. While in BI, Kjera is the one who uses her power to clear the clouds and aid Enya's descent to avert war, here it's quite clear that this time, the miracle was created by all the people themselves, working together and united, further underscored by Enya's comments about not wanting to rely on Kjera's miracles to always save them. It's another point that shows how not just the characters have grown, but it feels like Kjerag as a nation has grown, too.

The antagonists were also great. Harold's great reluctance to fulfill his duty as he becomes more and more absorbed in Kjerag's culture and society was good, as was his overall character as a cheery and talkative dandy; I have a great weakness for dandy characters, and he's just as fun as I hoped he was. His interactions with the whole cast were absolutely delightful. Trilby Asher's experiences as the great punching bag was downright hilarious as he was stymied at every turn, intentionally or not, by everything and everyone around him. I can't say I felt too sorry for him given that he acts more of a villain than Harold does, but the sheer comedic nature of his chase with Degenbrecher kept it funny and not cruel.

And of course, I must mention Leto. I had no prior knowledge or experience of her, but her headstrong, fierce independence and good nature won me over. I enjoyed her journey and her relationship with both Arctosz and Harold.

Finally, I must of course mention the one and only Black Knight, Madam Degenbrecher. She was perhaps my most anticipated character to be released from NPC jail, and I was incredibly eager and curious to learn more about her and her life. RS did not disappoint: it gave us an incredibly clear picture of the type of person she is, expanding on everything that was hinted about her in the past, from her forceful no-nonsense attitude in battle to her laidback nature away from the battlefield, to her dislike of people who chatter too much to her hidden humorous streak. Somewhere along the way while I was admiring fanart, I picked up the habit of calling her "Sister", as many of the CN fans do, and now I see that it truly is the perfect moniker for her. She truly is everyone's reliable and steadfast big sister. The way it's shown that she's truly of Kjerag now and one of them is so heartwarming, especially given her background as a destitute, nameless, homeless nobody. She has found her home, a place where she is loved and accepted, and a place that she's willing to put her life on the line to defend. It's just lovely.

Tangentially related, RS being a more light-hearted and borderline-comedic story overall was a very welcome change of pace. While I don't mind AK's generally grittier and bleaker stories, I think RS had a good balance between drama and seriousness and comedy and shenanigans. As I said earlier, I wasn't sure how the writers would follow up on BI, and I was in fact slightly worried that the overwhelming positive ending of BI would, in the continuation, take a downward turn into something that matched the overall grim tone. The fact that it did not is something that I'm happy about; call me biased, but I'm glad to see my favorite characters having a little breather episode.

Finally, I appreciated how the foreign elements were introduced at the end; again, they did not overwhelm the rest of the story, while also clearly leading into the future third installment. But this obvious sequel hook did nothing to diminish the ending, and I very much look forward to the next story and how it will mesh with other factions and conflicts. The Kjerag storyline crossing over with that of Rhine Lab was not something I anticipated but I have confidence that it will be handled with similar skill and aplomb after RS, and perhaps even will receive the prestigious anniversary/half anniversary treatment.

Overall, I don't really think there's anything in RS that I'm dissatisfied or disappointed with. It was thoroughly enjoyable, I laughed very hard multiple times, the plot was well-paced, all the characters were well-developed. Per my introduction, Break The Ice has long since been my favorite AK story, and I believe it's quite fitting that the one that's going to supplant it is its sequel, The Rides to Lake Silberneherze.

#arknights #arknights essay #my essays

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pascaloverx · 4 months

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Sweet Love

Summary: You're an up-and-coming writer, congratulations. To protect your beloved job, you're willing to do anything. Even strike a deal with the devil, better known as your sister's neighbor. You and Dean Winchester don't really see eye to eye, but in a moment of desperation, you agree to collaborate with him for a greater good.

Author's Notes: Many characters do not belong to me but to the Supernatural Universe (2005-2020). I hope you enjoy the fanfic's story. The fanfic will contain strong language and adult content. Dear readers, I'm here to let you know that if you enjoy this fic, please engage with it. Comments and likes are welcome. I appreciate everyone who follows this fanfic, but I must admit that it might be coming to an end. Anyway, enjoy this chapter.

chapter five chapter seven

CHAPTER SIX

The first few days avoiding Dean seemed the most complicated. Whether you like it or not, being next-door neighbors and getting used to doing certain things at the same time to meet in secret from Sam made everything more complicated. But by the second week of avoiding the Winchesters, you were already an expert at not running into either of them. That doesn't mean it was easy, though. Today, you finally sent the first draft of your new book to the publisher. So you decided to go out and do some grocery shopping. The store isn't crowded; it's a quiet time to get lost between the dairy and frozen food sections. You don't want to admit it, but even grocery shopping now reminds you of Dean. And you can't stand that.

"Are you sure your brother asked for this type of shampoo? He doesn't seem like the guy who needs to control oily hair." You hear a woman saying this, and it reminds you that you're running low on shampoo too. You head towards the hair care products, and your eyes meet the person you most want to avoid.

"You'd be surprised how much maintenance his hair needs. I need to grab something over there." Dean says loudly enough for you to hear. You try to avoid him by heading into the baby aisle. Now you're surrounded by powders, diaper packs, wet wipes, and formula.

"Can you stop running away from me?" Dean says in an exaggerated manner, definitely grabbing your attention—and the attention of almost everyone in the store.

" I wouldn't have to run if you'd stop coming after me, Winchester." You reply, turning to face him. Now it's just you and him, face to face, with only a shopping cart separating you.

"I doubt you have any idea how much I've wanted to find you these past few weeks. Even though I have no clue what I'd do if I did. It feels strange to say this while you're my neighbor and not long ago we were…" Dean begins to speak, and you look at him as if you don't know what to do. In reality, you have no idea what to do. Fight with him? Reconnect with him? But what exactly would you be reconnecting?"

"We were nothing. Now, can you do us both a favor and move on with your life?" You say, trying to avoid Winchester's gaze.

"For you, does moving forward mean pretending that the other person doesn't exist? Because if so, I don't intend to forget you. Or move on." Dean looks serious about what he's talking about. And you wish you could trust that he's serious about not forgetting you.

"Why would you say that, if you know that we shouldn't mean anything to each other? If you know that you're not over Castiel? If you're here with someone else, you shouldn't be talking to me like that." Your words carry a sentimentality inappropriate for the nature of your relationship with Dean. You both clearly should never have gotten close, since neither of you knows how to be casual about your feelings.

"I talked to him. After what you said. I realized I was being a fool for undervaluing someone who meant so much to me. And I'm here with a friend, not a substitute for you," Dean says, taking another step towards you, keeping his eyes fixed on you.

"And what do you want now? Why do you want to be near me? To apologize for being a jerk? Or to regret ever stepping into my life?" you say, leaving your cart still between you and Dean but moving toward him. Part of you wants to confront him without anything between you, and the other part just wants to forget this argument and jump into his bed.

"I would never regret you. Actually, I regret not being worthy of your attention. But the truth is, I don't know how to function without you anymore. Without waiting for my idiot brother to fall asleep so I can sneak into your place, going to the store to buy anything just to spend time with you, cooking for you after sex because we both get ravenous." Everything he is saying lowers your guard, everything so personal. The truth is, you miss the comfort of having him around. Not thinking about labels or anything else, just being together. Realizing that you are more than his writer neighbor and he is more than your womanizing neighbor.

"What does all this mean, Winchester? You declaring yourself like a lovestruck boy, what exactly does it mean?" Your question seems to surprise him. The truth is it feels like you've been going in circles when it comes to this relationship, if you can even call it a relationship, what you had or have.

"If you want me, it can mean an official relationship with all the trimmings—expectations, sentimentality, companionship, silly romantic dates, and awkward family moments. The full package. In good times and bad, in sickness and in health; until my brother and your sister kill me for breaking the rule of not getting too close to you." Dean says, smiling slightly. You move a bit closer to him, looking him seriously in the eyes. Until you open your arms and move toward him. Missing him outweighs your anger. Dean holds you firmly in his arms, and when you lift your head to look at him, he kisses you gently. A very soft kiss.

"You know you basically just proposed to me, right?" you say as your lips part from Dean's, who laughs.

"Sorry, babygirl, but I think you're the one who wants to marry me. But first, we need to take it slow. I still need to win your sister's approval, and one of us has to tell Sam what's going on," Dean says, and you chuckle at the thought of it. Just then, you hear someone clear their throat behind you. It's Dean's friend, standing there with a basket full of groceries.

"Not that either of you cares, but you can see all this sappy crap from a mile away. I'm Charlie, by the way, and I should let you know that Sam already knows. He actually made me bring Dean to the market to see if he could get over the weird breakup between you two." Charlie extends her hand towards you, and you shake it, feeling a bit awkward about how this is your first meeting.

"I think it's best if we all head home. It's a pleasure to meet you, Charlie. I'll finish my shopping and meet you at the exit." You say, separating from Dean and grabbing your cart again. Before heading back to your shopping, you and Dean share a quick kiss, and as you walk to another section of the market, you can hear Charlie cursing Dean for abandoning her with the groceries.

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mysteryshoptls · 1 year

Text

SSR Malleus Draconia Masquerade Dress Personal Story: Part 3

"We should begin from the top once more"

(Part 1) (Part 2) Part 3

[Noble Bell College – Lecture Hall]

Mage Training School Student: Ah, Ma-Ma-Ma-Ma-Malleus Draconia-san…!

Mage Training School Student: Um… Th-That performance you just gifted us was spectacular…! That's all I wished to say! S-S-So now, I take my leave!

Noble Bell College Student: We are so blessed to hear a song performed by you, Draconia-san… It is most definitely a great honor for our school to have been able to host this cultural exchange!

Noble Bell College Student: I know that Rollo-kaichō must be just as elated. Thank you very much for your wondrous singing voice!

Malleus: Despite this being a masquerade, they still came up and addressed me by name… Heh, how frivolous.

Malleus: ...It seems the gift was a success.

Malleus: I am certain that explains why there are more folk than usual who aren't attempting to keep their distance.

Malleus: This is all due to Ashengrotto and Shroud's willingness to collaborate. I should thank those two.

Malleus: And also… I should give my thanks to Flamme for providing us this opportunity.

Riddle: Malleus-senpai. Are you taking a breather from the dancing?

Malleus: Ah, hello, Rosehearts, Spade.

Malleus: Yes, just a moment ago, I successfully danced with the one I intended to have dance with me… So now I am resting for a spell.

Malleus: Are you two also here to rest?

Riddle: We were searching for you, Malleus-senpai. Just as we thought to express our sentiments, you disappeared.

Deuce: We already talked to Ashengrotto-senpai and Idia-senpai… But, man, Draconia-senpai! That performance was amazing!

Riddle: I agree. I would certainly be interested in learning how to sing so confidently as you did. May I ask what pointers you would have to help others like me sing beautifully like that?

Malleus: I do not know if this would be considered a pointer…

Malleus: However, from the moment I first heard the song, I was incapable of not feeling emotionally drawn to it. Perhaps that is why I was able to sing it so well.

Riddle: Did you have some kind of special interest in that song, "Let My Wish Resound"?

Malleus: I suppose I did. When Lilia introduced me to the song and sang it for me for the first time…

Malleus: With one rendition of the lyrics, I felt this unforgettable strong sense of empathy resonate within me.

Deuce: If I recall, "Let My Wish Resound" was a song of the Bell-ringer's hopes and dreams to meet everyone he possibly could.

Deuce: Does that mean… Did you sing it with the feeling that you were looking forward to meeting everyone here at the cultural exchange?

Malleus: Of course, there is that as well, but…

Malleus: I believe that this song is not only about hope.

Malleus: The Bell-ringer must have longed for the bright new world, and yet feared it at the same time.

Riddle: Fear? Even with such optimistic lyrics?

Malleus: That is right. Because it takes courage to want to learn of something you have no knowledge about.

Malleus: I've had that same feeling.

Deuce: Eh!? Even someone as confident as you had to show courage somewhere…!?

Malleus: I do not think it is anything that shocking. I am a student, same as you.

Malleus: When I was to enroll at Night Rave College, it naturally required me to muster up some courage.

Malleus: Compared to when I lived in my castle, I had absolutely no experience spending time anywhere there were large gatherings of people.

Riddle: …I think I understand.

Riddle: If that's the case, then I think I might be able to imagine just how it felt for you.

Riddle: He felt an equivalent amount of anticipation and dread…

Riddle: And yet the Bell-ringer gathered his courage and stepped into the crowd of people.

Malleus: Exactly. That is precisely why he was able to gather so many important people in his life other than his mentor, the Righteous Judge.

Malleus: I have nothing but respect for a man who is both kind and courageous.

Malleus: I am more than honored to have been able to perform "Let My Wish Resound" to show my gratitude to being invited to this gathering.

Deuce: Wow… I'd never even thought that there was something so deep hiding in the lyrics of that song.

Riddle: Neither had I. I had memorized the lyrics, yes, but only as the words on paper…

Riddle: I hadn't put any thought into the emotions or context within the song.

Riddle: Malleus-senpai. Your thoughts and emotions truly registered to everyone via that spectacular performance.

Malleus: Your backing vocals were just as good. It was thanks to everyone's efforts that the song was a success.

[[Yuu] approaches]

1. Hey, Tsunotaro, good job out there.

Riddle: Oh, [Yuu]. Did you come here to tell Malleus-senpai how you felt about the song, as well? Riddle: We were just speaking on that matter.

2. Oh, this is where you all got to.

Deuce: [Yuu], weren't you with Grim? Well, I guess you gotta take your break from that noisy furball when you can. Riddle: We were just speaking of that song, "Let My Wish Resound," with Malleus-senpai here.

Deuce: I want to hear your thoughts on it too, [Yuu].

Deuce: What did you think of Draconia-senpai's performance earlier?

1. It was really moving!

Malleus: It moved you? I see… Fufufu. I may have had confidence in myself, but hearing it directly from you is a wonderful feeling. Malleus: As long as my you were able to feel all of the emotions that I poured into that song, I am more than pleased.

2. It looked like you were having so much fun!

Malleus: It looked as though I was having fun? Me? Malleus: …You seem to always have a keen eye when it comes to me. I suppose I truly was enjoying singing from the heart as I did.

Malleus: When the crimson lotuses appeared, I thought of cancelling this… However, I am pleased that we were all able to take part in this masquerade.

Malleus: [Yuu]. Will you dance with me?

Riddle: That's a great idea. Since it was a cultural exchange, I had only been dancing with students from other schools, but…

Riddle: Since this is a rare opportunity, why don't we have a dance together as well, Deuce.

Deuce: I'd be honored! But hey, [Yuu], you better dance with me next.

Malleus: That's right. The masquerade has only just begun.

Malleus: We've met many new people, and connected with them… Let us enjoy this splendid night to our heart's content.

(Part 1) (Part 2) Part 3

#twisted wonderland #twst #malleus draconia #riddle rosehearts #deuce spade #twst malleus #twst riddle #twst deuce #twst yuu #twst translation #twst glorious masquerade #mention: azul #mention: idia #mention: lilia #mention: rollo #mention: grim

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tenderlyrenjun · 1 year

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Golden Hour

minors + inactive/empty blogs do not interact

includes … celebrity chef!reader x idol-producer!mark, height difference, flirting, themes related to golden hour and child, kitchen sex, fingering, making out, light choking, oral sex (f receiving), penetration, safe sex ... I got a little inspired (?) and wrote this literally today after I got off work.

wc: 5,2k (two scenes)

“So …” You lean across the cluttered counter, most of the cooking utensils used thus far, since the class finished past your instruction ten minutes ago, the other party guests having already moved on to mingling and eating their bibimbap dishes, garnished by a simple omelette. “… how do you like your eggs?”

Mark licks his bottom lip, dragging it behind his teeth, and turns a brown egg, uncracked, in his hands, smoothly gliding the entire oval across his dorsal veins. He opens his mouth, but so many factors surface, once he takes everything into consideration – fried egg sandwiches during 9 AM business meetings at the studio; feta frittata eggs with a Sunday brunch mimosa; fluffy scrambled omelettes, adding an extra dash of protein, before the gym. And those are just scenarios, the last one mostly inspired by the matching, scanty gym outfit you gatekeep below that long apron, making you appear a little more exposed than his hippocampus can handle: crop top tank pushing up your chest, leggings laying so flat that he saw the outline of your thong when you spun the straps around your waist, fastening the long strands twice. Conversely, if he considers just the ingredients – of an omelette – or just the egg, ignoring his personal skill level, as shown by the pulped bibimbap dish nearly starting a fire on the hot plate at the end of his table, Mark … still has too many options.

So, he taps his neatly cut fingernail on one of the three eggs he’d been allotted at the beginning of the class and answers, “Scrambled,” slowly, because he’s used to it, to that technique. A scrambled egg is simple; no finesse. And he can cook it at any convenience, with the bare minimum number of utensils – in a pan, whisked by a fork; cracked over a steaming bowl of ramen, mixed by wooden chopsticks; heated in a microwave, nearly exploding after he sets the timer for five minutes.

Mark puts his egg back in the dispenser, sighs, and glances around the room. He honestly did not know what to expect from this “party”. Three rows of two long kitchen islands stand, placed equidistant in Renjun’s penthouse dining room, extending all the way to the living room where Jisung’s, his roommate, guitar accessories scatter across the coffee table. On his way up the elevator – actually a little before that, too, when he was at the studio, still evicting this tune he got stuck in his head, Mark considered the party to be a casual hangout, having heard that maybe 15 people, max, would be in attendance, not some theatre production, complete with a whole stage refurbishment. Ah, maybe he got his hopes up too high, relying more on the intimacy of a small party to keep him from a spatula, possibly wrapped up in conversation over a potential collaboration, like a networking event, rather than an actual cooking lesson from the youngest celebrity chef in the country’s largest metropolis with peers who doing the same as him, better than him. Mark thought he might excel, once he saw bibimbap on the schedule, the most basic breakfast dish, even though his stomach’s morning routine has been limited to toast or cereal for nearly a decade (much to Haechan’s grievance). Then, he overcooked the steak, resulting in you giving him yours; and he cooked his mushrooms first, the most potent flavor seeping down to the carrots, again resulting in you handing off your dish. The rice, really, was the only thing unscathed, mostly because he threw two cups in a cooker, leaving it untouched for 20 minutes.

“Sorry,” Mark apologizes. He winces, realizing how much of your time he monopolized during class – whether it was messing up a step in the recipe or staring at you too long until you noticed him again.

“It’s okay,” you tell him gently, bumping his arm, quickly, to scoot him down the counter. He complies, feet shuffling tinily, and watches you officially take over his project. “It happens. I think most people tend to, like, really develop their cooking skills around the same time their cells start dying,” you joke, giving him a light grin while you pull a clean glass bowl into frame.

“Mmhmm.”

Mark passes off all three eggs to you, and his fingers brush your hands, nails grazing, briefly, between your knuckles. He glances down at where they meet but jumps back to your face, stumbling at your chest, a consequence of the height difference, sternum hidden by both your boobs squished together and the apron holding them in place, albeit low-cut. You say nothing, instruct nothing, since the class is practically over (and he stays, like a teacher’s pet), so he leans back, checking out the gap in your apron, just to make sure you really do wear, like, actual clothes, including that thong he saw earlier, small triangle branded on your lower back like a tramp stamp. And you do! – wear clothes, which, at least, concludes one of his spinning thoughts today (it’s not even six o’clock yet, the time work usually ends). Then, his stomach rumbles, reminding him that breakfast was 12-hours ago.

“You’re, um, really good at this,” he brings his attention back to the purpose of this party.

“Yeah, thanks,” you accept, tone vocally light, which almost has him thanking you, too – be-because you have given him something to focus on this afternoon, temporarily relieving himself from the mental journalling his brain has been writing since 4 AM (would that be weird?; he doesn’t do it anyways). “I have a degree in physical chemistry,” you tell him, sharply whisking the eggs into a consistent yellow solution. “I’m making them eggs fluffy. I hope that’s okay.” You look at him, pausing the wooden sticks between your fingers, bowl pressed into your stomach, below your chest, and he has to look, bouncing from your eyes to boobs bowl.

Mark nods, twice, eyes widening downward, like a baby cheetah, half his bottom lip inside his mouth again, teeth chewing at the seam. He can’t trust himself not to stutter, not when his tongue falls numbly over his lower incisors and his toes bear his entire body weight, palms pushed into the edge of the counter to balance him.

“Sorry,” you apologize, reflexively, in the silence. And he winces, involuntarily stepping forward to revoke his silence, to verbally answer you so that you don’t have to take your eyes off the food. But you talk again and explain, “I’m not really used to the, like, customer service yet.” Your arms tense again, restarting the whisking, blending out the albumen on the perimeter. His fingers, too, strain, flexed wide enough to display his webbed metacarpal. If you were like his other friends, like Renjun, Mark might have already started massaging your shoulders, getting you to relax. But you’re not. And he barely knows you, mostly knows of you, from all the interviews preceding him in the magazine, little tidbits floating around the Internet as if fact without giving you the opportunity to confirm or deny them. “Sometimes, I just start cooking and forget to ask people – customers –“ You point at him, and he wishes you wouldn’t. It adds to the distance between you, making him count the millimeters you retracted when your fingers brushed tips. “– about their preferences.” You turn the electric stove top on, over medium heat, then reach for aluminium-wrapped slice of butter, unwrapping it at the back and pushing the soggy square (Mark winces again; that is probably his fault, having waiting too long to use it) into the pan via chopsticks. “But I’m, uh, I’m working on it.” You pull the pan off the stove, butter halfway melted, easy for you to slip and slide, coating the entire surface. And once you finish, putting it back to melt the rest, you glance around the room, small whisper drawing his ear to your lips. “It’s just hard … being the youngest person in the room, always obligated to absorb everyone’s opinions, everyone’s advice – whether solicited or not, kinda balancing this dichotomy where people want to guide you into what they think is the right direction or completely takeover the thing you’re doing.” You stab at the remaining butter with your chopstick, wood thumping the metal pan, then, lower the stove heat and sigh, “Sorry, that sounds weird, I know.”

“No, I, uh, I get it,” Mark croaks, stuttering getting even worse after you hand the glass bowl of whisked eggs to him. He tries to, like, replace you in front of the stove, but you stand still and guide both his hands on the rim, fingers filling in the gaps between his. You face the bowl toward his chest, a little lower than he would do on his own, but he keeps quiet at the discomfort, body stiffened, diaphragm concaved all the way. He tilts the eggs out fast, faster than you probably intended because you put up more resistance against him, slowing the pour until the curds form gently in the pan. You pull away first, completing his plan – in which he stands at the stove, you at the side. And Mark smacks his lips, tongue pushing on his bottom lip. “You’re trying to find some equilibrium between your environment – the people, the setting, whatever – and your own identity.” You hand him the cooking chopsticks, temporarily distracting his train of thought, but he bounces back quickly when you nudge his hand over the pan, directing him through scrambling the egg curds, through pushing the eggs outward to inward. “S-sometimes,” he breathes, shakily, grounding his body in cooking, “people will tell me that I’m, like, mature for my age, or – or, like, an old soul, and give me more responsibilities than I know what to do with. And it’s not like I can’t ask for help or anything; everyone gives me enough unsolicited advice to make me feel, like, okay, or whatever, with asking for help. But other times, people feel this need to, like, take care of me.” You hand him a rubber spatula and take away the chopsticks, which slightly proves his point, but he keeps to that point, using the spatula to put around the eggs evenly, fluffing them edges to middle. “Thanks.”

“Mmhmm,” you acknowledge before sitting on the counter, blue Nikes swinging against a cabinet door. And Mark copies you, leaning on the counter, just right of the electric stove and pan, eyeing you up. “Eyes on the pan, Mark.”

“Right, yeah.”

Mark uncrosses his arms and turns back to the last step of his bibimbap, folding the eggs over itself. But they look complete, a little wet, yellow dark and runny, but still, complete.

“Do I, um, do I do anything else?” he asks, holding both the handles of the pan and spatula. He cautiously looks up at you, through his own lashes, careful not to stutter at your chest again (even though you sit with your palms digging into your knees, biceps supporting their weight higher). You stare at him a second, something indiscernible crossing your mouth, then you shake your head, fringe falling in front of your ears, prompting you to tuck them back.

“Is there something else you want to do?”

Ask you out.

Maybe.

A beat passes.

“I don’t know,” Mark answers, nervously laughing to himself, under his breath. “I, uh, usually see people add stuff at the end – like, sprinkle some cilantro or squirt a side of ketchup.”

You hop down the counter and walk around his side, putting the pan between the two of you, which makes Mark tilt his head left, almost bonking his long blond hair (really his shoulder) on your head, if the height difference hadn’t returned. And the spatula drops from his hand, involuntarily he tells himself, when you nudge into his personal space. You catch it, not so easily, he notices – and apologizes, then you undo his folds to the omelette.

“People usually add spices and veggies to taste,” you start, not looking at him. “The eggs should be slightly wet when you’re adding the final ingredients, so you need to act quick –”

Mark jumps behind you, arm reaching across the counter, toward the far side, at the bowl of diced vegetables mixed with crushed pepper. He shakes it across the eggs, like he’s seen TV chefs do on Netflix. The silence, as you watch him top off the omelette with a literal pinch of salt, is a deafening few seconds, and he feels a sense of pride, that expectation of him excelling returning to the scene as he hoped before the class. But it leaves his body, the next second, when he realizes how close he stands to you – his chest pressed against your shoulders; your neck bending backwards, nearly resting on his bicep just to see his face.

“Ye-yeah,” you stutter, and suddenly, he sees you less confidently, and his mouth dries, preventing him from both apologizing for the intimacy and moving. “Just like that.” You swallow, thickly, fleetingly dipping your gaze to his lips; so quick, he thinks he hallucinated it.

“Th-then, does it, um, does it look done now?”

Mark’s shoulders stagger to his ears, tucking his chin to chest. He pulls his stomach backward, without the rest of his body, standing like a geometric abstract painting, limbs stacked one on top of the other.

You snap your head back to the pan, hair hitting his shirt. “Wh – Yeah, no, yeah, you were perf – good; you did good.” You kick up your elbow, outside his oblique, parenthetically trapping him tightly in place (otherwise, he’d fall). He watches you repeat his fold in the eggs, this time with ingredients sandwiched in the middle, yolk running less and less, tucking bell peppers and mushrooms inside. It’s a basic dish – the omelette – not even complete, since it will top the bibimbap.

Making an omelette takes longer than he thought it would, to be honest; well, making a good omelette. And this is probably the reason why he never makes one himself. All the recipes say 5-10 minutes, including prep time, but he has been here, with you, probably longer than that. Although, it could be his fault, needing to fill the silence with words, to say something – because he really cannot talk and check you out at the same time. You keep the conversation going, always articulating something interesting or relatable, to him, beyond the simple stuck-in-a-matrix TikTok clickbait that Renjun sends him at three in the morning. So, when you start moving again, shutting down the stove, plating his bibimbap, and untying your apron, Mark grabs your arm, fast, just strong enough to catch your attention; he releases immediately upon receiving your eye contact.

“Don’t,” he breathes, somehow winded. Then, he inhales, sharply, filling his lungs. “Eat with me?” he asks, “un-unless you have somewhere else to be.”

You turn around, at a better angle, back pushed against the stove buttons, apron hanging half an inch off your body. And Mark grabs you by the waist, hauling you into his chest, away from the sparking stove. But you both push each other away again, noticing the intimacy, hands rubbing into where you touched each other – you at your hips, him at his chest. And the two meter distance returns.

“No, I, um, I was just going to the gym after this.” You look him up and down, and his eyes sparkle. “But, no, yeah.” You take off the apron completely, folding it onto the counter. “I c-can eat with you. Just let me get a spoon.”

Mark produces one nearly out of thin air (really, he swiped one of the three off the counter to make space for your apron). “We can share,” he nods at the ceramic bowl, “this bibimbap. Yours is probably cold by now,” he reasons, because, if you go, you might not come back, and he doesn’t want to let this be a mirage or, worse, be a dream; dreams can become nightmares. And as another beat overtakes the conversation, overtakes his request and explanation, Mark thinks he fell into another night with the same nightmare. The bibimbap is only a single serving, if that, drowned by three servings of eggs. You barely know him, only revealing maybe one or two vulnerable thoughts, on which he piggybacked his own apprehensions. And really, Mark should feel bad, about monopolizing your time both during and after class, even though this is technically a party and he has yet to say more than three words to his best friend, Renjun. He phrased his request, less like a question, more like a demand, and he can’t find a reason why you would agree, his brain already lined up three objections for you to reject –

“Okay.”

Mark freezes, hand clenching around the air, since you took the spoon away from him (he hadn’t noticed you did that, to be honest). He only moves after you squeeze his arm, guiding him away from the stove too, like he did you, except the stove is really off right now. And everything rushes out at once – he follows you to the side, still far from the rest of the party guests, who he, frankly, forgot were in the room still, despite this not being his apartment; and he repeats, “Okay.” Mark tilts his head to the side, you blurring the rest of his vision. “Okay? Okay. Cool, cool, okay, cool.” You hop back on the counter and skulk your foot between his thighs, bringing him a little bit closer, out of the aisle. His hands fall on both your sides, lowering him down your chest, which looks about the same without the apron – pushed up and compressed together. “Actually …”

Mark’s request for you to eat with him changes.

In terms of location and subject.

He brought up that the bibimbap might not be an ideal meal to share, and that he wants to share a meal with you. It took a couple minutes, skirting around the whole date question, since he literally only knew you a couple hours, but if you know, you know. And Mark knew that he really wanted to see you more … privately. So, eventually, he got through the question, getting you back to his apartment on the lie that he has more food at home. But you never confirmed his lie, or maybe you never doubted him (he’ll clear it up later), because you shove him against the wall, kissing him between the photos of his friends and family, who he definitely does not want to see him railing the girl of his dreams.

Mark changes the position, scratching his nails up your scalp, behind your head, coiling thick strands around his fingers while he walks you down the living room to his bed, never letting up on the embrace.

However, the two of you fall on the ground, in the kitchen, Mark’s elbow slamming into the ground first as he tries to protect you from the hard wood floors. He yelps in pain, too, but you poke your tongue in his mouth, arms wrapping around his neck. You stumble toward his lips, chest beating on his, your back coming off the ground, nearly toppling him over. And Mark fumbles, hand feeling around the floor until he can sit upright, sloped against the island cabinets, which seem to have a lot of use today. He raises his chin higher, trying to match the way you bounce on his lap, cupping his face still. And, Jesus Christ, Mark compares your lips to every other person he has ever kissed before – his newest hairstylist a year after he became an adult; the concessions stand clerk at the movie theatre when he was 17; another idol he met through a mixed-up sandwich. You’re better than all of them, he concludes, swollen lips as pliant at his half-lidded eyes, puckering repeatedly to give you a sounding board each time you dive into his face. He grabs your ass, like an anchor, heels of his palms kneading into the muscles.

“Mm – Mark,” you moan, not breaking apart, hot breath exhaling down his tongue. You stand on your knees, and your nails drag into his hair, tugging at the roots.

“Fuck.”

Mark kisses you again, harder, bending you across his legs, one hand belting behind your waist, the other slamming into the ground. You hang off his neck, nearly dragging him on the floor with you, had he not already set himself up for support. Then, he starts falling back into the island, repeatedly pecking you, one last lick on your teeth before pulling away. He needs the reprieve, to organize his thoughts, figure out the first way he can fuck you tonight without blundering like a clumsy virgin. And when he peaks an eye open, he sees yours still closed; sees your chest heaving, the neckline somehow lower. So, Mark kisses you again, more chaste, patting down the side of your hair until his palm rests on your cheek.

“Why – why did you stop?” you ask, sinking your ass onto his thighs.

“I –“ Mark swallows. He wants you in his bed now, thrusting into you so rough that his blue sheets tear off the corners. He also wants you on his couch, the next immediate mattress, rubbing his boner up your tight, giving each other tight hand jobs, clinging to each other just to save room. But as he darts across your now flushed face, Mark is momentarily returned to that first moment when he saw you walk into Renjun’s apartment, a confident chef who eventually gave him your full attention, and he answers, “On the counter.” He taps your ass, getting you both to stand. He helps you jump on the granite, hands around your waist to place you perfectly in front of him.

“Like this?”

You wrap your legs and arms around him, nearly falling off, so Mark scoots closer to the edge, his mostly hard cock grazing the edge and your knee.

“Yeah,” he hisses, hands traveling down your calves, like a massage. “Good girl,” he praises. Mark brings one up your thigh, between your thighs, not quite touching the middle just yet. “Can I?” he asks, thumb resting on your stomach, above the waist band he already folded down your belly button. You both stare at each other, delicately grinding the paper-thin air between you two. Then, you roll down the counter, humping his abs so tightly that his shirt rides up.

“Yeah, Mark, please,” you moan again. “You c-can touch.”

Mark, impatient, doesn’t take your pants off, sliding all five digits down your stomach, palm facing you. His longest fingers trace your underwear, mentally drawing himself a picture of the thong you kept hidden from him for hours. It’s thinner than he imagined, wetter, too, the skinny string disappearing between your pussy lips, choking your clit. Mark breathes down your lips, inhaling through his nose as your breath hitches repeatedly, open-mouthed, staccato ah’s decreasing in octaves from moans to groans. He pads his index and ring finger on either side of your cunt, middle finger stroking your clit lightly. Actually, he tries not to touch you directly, wanting the ghost of his fingers to burn your loins first, but you keep grinding closer and closer to him; eventually, his fingers slip inside, starting with two interphalangeal creases. The tightness of your leggings holds his wrist against your lower stomach, but his fingers have some range, able to gesture for your G-spot to come hither, to find him.

“Wanna fuck you so bad,” he whimpers, kissing you again before you can retort – because it’s not a request; he’s not asking. Mark is telling you that he wants to fuck you so bad, right now, monster cock straining his jeans fully.

“You can,” you tell him between a kiss. Mark’s free hand holds you around the neck, palm on your jugular, thumb reaching across your larynx. Nothing supports your head, so you keep rocking forward, incidentally dropping further down his fingers in your cunt, stifling your voice box in his hand. “You can f-fuck – fuck – me, Mark.”

He almost takes you up on it, even stripping the both of you down to your underwear. And he finds out that your bra has been holding up your boobs, not your crop top, not the apron, your bra. He hopes you have a duplicate of this one, because he’s going to rip it.

Not actually though.

In reality, outside his thoughts, Mark hesitates. His cock twitches on his stomach, smooth tip leaking under the waistband, as he debates how he wants to get between your legs. Either way – stuffing you with his cock or lapping at your walls – would sprawl you across his kitchen counter, displaying you like a perfect meal prepared by his Michelin charisma, having moved the appetizer (flirting) from Renjun’s apartment into a main dish at his place. His place. Oh, yeah, you definitely have all night. So, Mark settles between your thighs, pushing your knees more open.

“No more teasing,” he tells you.

“What – Oh, fuck, just like that, Mark!”

You fall onto your forearms, over the counter, as Mark licks his way into your pussy, one finger holding the tiny thong string off to the side. He extends his tongue, all the way, angling his head diagonally. He keeps his wet muscle still and shakes his head, side-to-side, nose rubbing just outside your labia, more on your thigh, pushing your pussy lips together so tightly that your clit bears most of the tension. You moan his name, repeatedly, growing louder and louder over each passing syllable, encouraging him further – or, rather, deeper.

Mark pulls his dick out of his pants, stroking down only once, holding the pulsing base firmly, prematurely lining himself with the thought of your cunt.

“Ah, Mark,” you scream, palm slamming into the counter. Mark throws his glance at your face and sees your lips form a giant ‘O’ – God, he could fuck your mouth pussy. And he strokes himself again. The way you squirm on his kitchen island realigns your clit with his nose, and you grind the little nub on his nub, the hard ball jingling wetly. Your ass, too, bounces on the table, practically spanking yourself on the granite. Mark bites his lips higher, catching your clit in a hard suction, drinking the shaky nerves, tongue abrading the entire surface area. You return your hands to his hair, scratching into his scalp, never tugging him away, only yanking him tighter. And your thighs quiver, squeezing his cheeks, knees outlining his ears. “Mark, Mark,” you chant, “Mark, I’m gonna – I’m gonna – Oh, my God, I’m gonna – “

Then, he pulls away.

And you nearly scream again.

“Mark,” you whine for a good few seconds.

“Wait for me,” he tells you, holding your chin between his thumb and index finger to press a quick kiss on your lips. You try to elongate the kiss again, your sweaty ass adhering on the counter, but he pulls away fully after the one quick kiss. “Good girls wait,” he mumbles.

Mark leaves for a second, heading into his bathroom for a condom.

He catches himself in the mirror, toned abs full on display, lengthy cock flopping sans balls outside his briefs. His hair, too, has more volume than it normally does, even when his stylist fixes it up for concerts or stages (who knew sex hair looked this good?). Mark checks himself out another minute, then grabs a neatly packed L-condom. He exhales, jumping once, only to realize that it was a mistake when his dick hits his thigh. And he takes a moment, to just breathe, before going back to you, cock now wrapped up with protection.

In the kitchen, Mark finds you fingering yourself, writhing on the counter, opposite hand covering your mouth. He watches a little bit longer (but not long enough to be a pervert), then stalks between your thighs. You gasp, eyes widening.

“I thought I told you, ‘Good girls wait’.”

Your chest heaves a few seconds, and he realizes that he probably disturbed your orgasm a second time.

“I – I need to prep myself,” you explain, weakly, but he lets it go with the next half of your sentence boosting his ego, “Your dick is too big.”

“Mmhmm,” he nods. Mark wraps your thong around his dick, the little tiny crotch part choking his length, and rubs the new apparatus on your vulva, until you whine again, writhe again. “You’re gonna like it big,” he mumbles before untangling himself and impaling his cock all the way inside your cunt. “Oh, fuck,” he groans, shallowly thrusting half an inch out your labia, the acute angle between your bodies chafing his cock under your clit. Your pussy throbs at a 3010 tempo, practically squeezing him out, which gives him an excuse to thrust again, to bottom out again, the furthest part in your uterus clinching his leaky tip. “You – you feel s-so close,” Mark lisps, “T-to cumming.”

“I am,” you confirm, voice tight, moans asphyxiating your throat. “Mm – Mark, close.”

“Go ahead,” he tells you. “Come on, baby, you can cum. Be a good girl, cum.” Mark abuses your cunt harder, holding your waist lowly, sliding your ass off the counter as he pounds you harder and harder, cock driving up your pussy at the perfect angle, for what seems like the both of you. He tries continuously accelerating his speed, but as your pussy strangles him, and his thighs bruise on your ass, his cock flops around inside your cunt, spinning clockwise, ricocheting your walls.

“Ah, ah, ah!”

Mark weighs down your hips with one hand, the other tilting your chin up to look at him, to watch just him make you feel so damn good. Somewhere along the moaning and the sloshing, Mark squeezes his eyes shut, a familiar pressure building in his ears; he chases it, bucking his hips faster, spanking his thighs on your ass, your pussy ultimately trapping his tip deep in your uterus, only letting his shaft spring back and forth, veins stinging your velvety walls.

“Fuck, fuck, yeah, good girl,” Mark raps in one breath, all the music in his head building up and up and up, until the bass drops, and white noise backs up your screams like an instrumental. He digs his thumbs into your waist, grinding his hips on your labia, burying his cum as far as it can go, though impeded by the condom. And he lays down on the counter with you, feet floating off the ground.

You curl into his side, his arm wrapping around your shoulders. He can hear you steady your breathing, and it slows his, too. The moment hangs in the air, much like his feet, and Mark doesn’t know how much time passes, only enough for him to close his eyes, not a single thought behind those lids.

But you break the silence, mumbling something into his naked shoulder.

“Hmm? What was that?”

Mark lifts his head up, opening his eyes to stare at your newly shy smile.

“I just noticed you never asked me how I liked my eggs,” you laugh.

And Mark laughs too. “Okay, so how do you like your eggs then?” he plays along.

“Fertilized.”

#nct smut #nct 127 smut #nct dream smut #mark lee smut #mark lee x reader #nct fluff #?#nct fanfic #nct mark smut #nct mark x reader #nct drabbles #nct drabble #nct mark drabble #mark drabble

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darkbluekies · 1 year

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What are some of your favorite ideas that have been sent in from your fans/ viewers/ readers?

That's hard, I love a lot of them, but I'll try to remember the best ones I've seen (memory of a goldfish here)

two yanderes with their darlings becoming friends. I loved this idea and I have tried to write it, but I don't know how to do it, from who's perspective etc. It's a challenge I might not be able to do.

I think that there was an ask about Silas with a ballerina darling (or maybe I thought of that, pretty sure someone asked for it though? A long time ago?) that i really liked and now on later days have actually come up with a plot for that idea!!

An ask about Silas and Jerry sharing a darling where the darling is a part of a rival mafia but not involved with them, so that they're used to that world but doesn't like it. Still haven't figured out how to go around it in a way that feels the best.

I liked the idea for "hold my heart" even if it was dark. I don't know why, but writing it felt "healing" somehow.

Absolutely loved the ask for "i'd kill for you", still one of my favorite oneshots because it captures hedwig's character so well

We CAN NOT forget about this that sparked the entire "witty and uncanny" series

I have gotten requests about doing a collaboration with Jerry and Hedwig and I WILL, i 100% will because that sounds like so much fun, but i don't know how to do that yet, so that will be a future thing. if anyone has any ideas on how to put them together nicely, hit me up <3

I have gotten quite a lot of asks about Dry Kry falling in love with a med student that has sparked ideas in my head <33

Edmund going too far and realizes that he cannot buy / just fix his queen after killing a lot, that memory and fear doesn't get erased with money and now he has to actually comfort his darling. Hasn't started on that either

Edmund with a time travel reader. In the beginning, i did not like the idea and actually deleted the ask, but then someone else asked for it and I decided to try give it a shot and might have come up with a plot that could work! I haven't started though

I love ideas where the darling is sick or something, like this oneshot although its vague.

I think these might be the ones I can find for now (it's 23:37 i need to sleep) but theres a lot that i really like that people send in, i just haven't been able to find them all here <3

#yandere ocs #yandere fics #yandere x reader #yandere male #yandere female

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mariacallous · 2 months

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It’s no secret that homophobia has become official state policy in Russia. Last November, the country’s Supreme Court banned the nonexistent “international LGBT movement” as an “extremist organization.” Police conduct raids on LGBTQ+ clubs and same-sex couples face jail time for kissing or holding hands in public. Of course, countless queer people have no choice but to live in this new reality, and some of them even hold official positions. The independent media outlet Holod spoke with a gay man who has worked in government for over six years to understand why he continues to collaborate with a state that believes he shouldn’t exist. Meduza shares a translation of his story.

Not long ago, I was blackmailed.

I’d posted a profile on a private gay dating board on Telegram — without a picture of my face, of course. Some guy messaged me. I sent him a disappearing photo of my face in a secret chat. He sent one back. I sent him a picture of my penis. He sent one back.

You can’t take a screenshot in a secret chat, but you can always photograph the screen with another phone. That’s what they did. Then they found my page on VKontakte, where my work is listed in my profile, and messaged me directly: “Send 5,000 rubles [$58], or we’ll send pictures of the chat to your workplace.”

I deleted the chat and blocked the sender. Nothing came of it. It wasn’t the first time something like this had happened, so I was relatively calm. But the first time I was blackmailed — when they threatened to tell my mother that I “take it up the ass” — it really shook me up. I couldn't bring myself to go outside for a long time.

I’ve been working in public service for over six years, and before that, my job was also connected to government organizations. In my youth, when I decided to dedicate my life to the state, I already knew I was gay. All this time, I’ve been hiding my relationships with men from my employers. If I go on vacation, I tell my colleagues I'm going with a girlfriend to avoid unnecessary questions.

‘You can’t escape politics’

I went into public service for idealistic reasons: I hoped that in this job, I could do something good. I wanted to fulfill my potential and have an influence on the decisions that were being made. Of course, none of that happened. But at least I, someone without any connections and from a completely ordinary family, achieved what many is the ultimate dream: I built a successful career as a public servant and earn a decent salary. I worked, and still work, in mid-level positions in departments that deal with urban management.

I thought that in the executive branch, I could escape from politics. If, for example, you’re involved in city road repairs, your work doesn’t depend much on whether Putin or Yeltsin is president.

But it turned out, of course, that you can’t escape politics. We’re not forced to engage in pro-war propaganda on social media or put the letter Z on our profile pictures. Our higher-ups are reasonable. But it’s everywhere around us. Recently, I went out to lunch at a cafe, and there was an official who I know is gay, sitting with a young guy. The guy was wearing Balenciaga sneakers, and the official had a jacket with a huge Z pin on the lapel.

‘They never had freedom to begin with’

I have many gay acquaintances who work in government agencies. Sometimes you go to a gay club and see a colleague there. Then you meet them in a work setting, and they act like nothing happened. I’ve noticed that among government officials, it’s often the gay ones who bust their asses to support the war. I see it, and it disgusts me.

There are even federal politicians among my gay acquaintances. Over the past few years, I’ve often asked them how they put up with state-level homophobia and why they stay in their positions. I asked one of my friends, and he replied: “What do you mean? Nothing’s changed.” And I think: “Well of course, you and your boyfriend still go on vacation just like you used to. The fact that gay clubs are closed [doesn’t matter] because you never went there in the first place. You don’t feel all these restrictions because first of all, you’re private people and second, you’re privileged.”

Many gay Russian officials and politicians are married with kids, but they fuck young guys. But they don’t consider themselves gay — just men who occasionally have sex with other men. And since they don’t see themselves as gay, they feel that homophobic laws don’t apply to them. So maybe this extreme zeal and obsession among government employees with promoting homophobic values is actually the behavior of people who haven’t fully come to terms with their own orientation.

Officials are people who already live with a huge number of restrictions. They live by these restrictions. For example, I, like everyone else, regularly submit not only income declarations but also reports on all my social media. And I haven’t posted anything for a long time; I can only share the view from the window or a beautiful sunset because God forbid something happens.

And it seems to me that this is why gays in government don’t see all these homophobic bans as a problem. Nothing has been taken from them because they never had any freedom to begin with. An official is a public figure, and homosexuality has always been stigmatized in our homophobic country. You couldn’t be an openly gay person in government in the 2000s or 2010s. Politicians were never really on dating sites or regulars in gay clubs. They’ve already gotten used to it.

‘This hopelessness is what got to me’

I myself have gotten used to it to some extent. The bans haven’t really affected me much. Well, other than them blocking the website of a sex shop for gays that I used.

I generally consider myself a statist. I didn’t use to worry much about what was happening in the country, even though I saw the growing clusterfuck. But even for me, things have become very uncomfortable over the past two years, and in recent months, I've been thinking about either changing jobs or emigrating. Although not much has changed in terms of everyday comfort, psychologically, it's become harder.

I don’t like it when they intrude into personal matters. I’m not really into gay clubs or loud gatherings, but I want to have the option to go. When I’m stripped of that choice, it bothers me. It’s one thing for me, living in a city with over a million people: there are always places to socialize, drink, or fuck. But I come from a small town. I can’t imagine what kids in rural areas, who are just starting to question their own sexuality, are supposed to do now when all websites with any information about homosexuality are blocked.

But it wasn’t after the homophobic laws were passed that I started thinking about leaving this job, it was after the presidential election. Even though I’ve been immersed in this crap for over 10 years, this was the first election with no oversight whatsoever. Do whatever you want.

It was my first time working on an election commission. I didn’t vote for Putin myself; I took my ballot with me. But I was convinced that the number of people around me who supported Putin was so large that getting his [desired] result in the elections would be easy. But it turned out not to be the case. In my precinct, less than 50 percent voted for him. The rest was fabricated by the commission chair: he rewrote the protocol.

I thought the public was completely gripped by a victory frenzy. It turned out only half were. But the system is willing to do anything to make it appear like there were more. This hopelessness — when a significant portion of the people wants change, but the system crushes this desire — is what got to me.

I wasn’t involved in the falsification; I just didn’t interfere. This is probably where my moral line is. Despite the internal conflict, I think I could have worked my entire life for a homophobic state — provided I didn’t have to participate in anything homophobic myself.

‘I’m stuck in a swamp I can’t get out of’

One of my gay friends started working out six days a week after the war began so he wouldn’t have time to think about anything. It feels like people around me have started drinking and using drugs more. Whenever there’s an external threat, you choose something important and try to ignore everything else. I’m trying to focus my life on personal happiness. When I was in a serious relationship, I was completely absorbed in it and didn't care at all about what was happening around me.

Some of the men I’ve had relationships with were much more involved in government policy than I was. Some even helped enact homophobic laws. But that didn’t bother me because you don’t fall in love with people just for the values they hold. I’ve even dated a man who was married and cheating on his wife — maybe that’s wrong too, but that’s life. There’s an internal conflict, but we live in the here and now.

My friends tell me, “You need to quit your government job, cut ties completely.” But it’s very hard; I’ve spent 10 years of my life building this career. Recently, I tried looking for a job outside the public sector but I couldn’t find anything suitable. I feel like I’m stuck in a swamp that I can’t get out of. I don’t want to become so hypocritical in another 10 years [that I’m] going to cafes with guys and then sitting around talking about Z fascism with a serious face. Either stop fucking [men] or take off the cross.

Yes, I feel uneasy and yes, I have a moral conflict. But it’s not like there’s a warm welcome for me abroad. A Putin official isn’t wanted in Europe. I put myself in this trap and now I’m trying to get out without getting crushed.

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thelaurenshippen · 5 months

Text

this month's mixtape is Desperate Hollow! I write notes to all of my playlists and this month, I also wrote a ton about the process of working on this story, so if y'all are interested in that too, I'm happy to post that writing here! just let me know. but for now, music and rivals-to-friend-to-enemies-to-lovers feelings.

here are the basics that you need to know: Tex Bullock (a name he chose at 11) joined the notorious Barlowe Boys after he was orphaned at 8 years old, with Barlowe taking him under his wing. Sawyer Watson was similarly orphaned years later and fell in with the gang when he and Tex were both 14. they did not like each other at first. but fast forward thirteen years and they've become the best of friends, with feelings beyond friendship buried in both their hearts, when a confrontation with Barlowe leads to Sawyer shooting Tex in the chest and leaving him for dead.

fast forward again, seven years this time, and Sawyer has been living in a dead-end town (Desperate Hollow, of course) when who should roll into town, horseless and clearly running from something, but Tex.

that is, more or less, everything you need to know that happens in the first few chapters. okay, let's get into it:

1. "Bottom of the River" - Delta Rae

This playlist was started so long ago, in 2019, and since then I've honed so much about the story, even though I haven't touched this playlist. As a result, a lot of the songs are seeking a vibe that I hadn't quite clicked into - this is definitely a vibe song. It sounds to me like dragging yourself across dusty plains, hoping that salvation will come find you soon, either in the sight of civilization or in death. Essentially: where Tex begins.

2. "Born This Way" - Bear and a Banjo

Though both Sawyer and Tex have their own playlists (which I'll be sharing over the next two months) as well as several different ship mixes, there are certain songs that are more one or the other on this playlist. Sawyer's life before joining the Barlowe Boys was fairly peaceful - as a Black man living in Montana, he didn't exactly have it easy, but he had parents who loved each other and loved him. That sense of family is something he never quite gets back with the gang.

What happened to my freedom, separated my family/Bringing me to the foreign place/Now I'm focused on surviving in the midst of evil/Don't think it's ever gonna be the same

Fun fact! This song is actually from a fiction podcast about a fictional musical collaboration.

3. "Devil's Backbone" - The Civil Wars

Meanwhile, Tex was raised by a criminal father, his mother having died when he was eighteen months old. So when Barlowe found him and showed him the kind of affection and guidance his father never did, it was easy for Tex to fall into line on the criminality side. Sawyer is a lot more moral than Tex in a lot of ways - he's never killed anyone, whereas Tex has earned himself a pretty fearsome reputation. Sawyer doesn't always approve of what Tex does but...that doesn't mean he doesn't have a weakness for him all the same.

Don't care if he's guilty, don't care if he's not/He's good and he's bad and he's all that I've got

Also, Sawyer was raised in the church whereas Tex's dad was probably? Irish Catholic but I don't think he ever talked about God with Tex. Neither one of them is very religious anymore, but I love the line Oh Lord, oh Lord, what do I do?/I've fallen for someone who's nothing like you

4. "Tell That Devil" - Jill Andrews

I found this song because it's the theme for Wynonna Earp, a delightful supernatural Western with lots of queerness.

I gave you all I got to give/I know that ain't no way to live/so I told that devil to take you back - so much of the conflict between Tex and Sawyer is about loyalty, to each other and to Barlowe. I think this could work in multiple ways--either one of them saying it to Barlowe, or Sawyer saying it to Tex.

5. "I'm a Wanted Man" - Royal Deluxe

This is a Tex song - both how the world sees him and the way he sees himself.

I would kill again to keep from doing time is more or less a plot point, and you should never ever trust my kind is a central conflict within him.

If you asked me to change/I don't know if I can/I'll always be who I am

Royal Deluxe is all over these playlists - they make "outlaw rock" which in my view, is essentially cowboy-outlaw roleplaying fanfic. I'm so glad it exists.

6. "I'm Bad" - The Last Vegas

More of a vibe song, but I do think this is a little bit how Tex sees himself sometimes. He doesn't relish violence, doesn't actually really want to be an outlaw, but it's pretty much all he's ever known -- this is my note from 2019 or whenever I first wrote the notes and I don't have much to add to it (other than to say I'm not sure Tex doesn't relish violence. It's complicated. I did tell you the story got darker). Hindsight being 20/20, if I were to remake these playlists now, this would go on the Barlowe playlist. But this and the Tex and Sawyer playlists have been so baked for so long, I can't conceive of any other song placement.

7. "Raise Hell" - Brandi Carlile

If Tex has an anthem this is it. For some reason, I didn't end up putting it on his personal playlist, because I think it fits the ~vibes~ better.

I've been down with a broken heart/Since the day I learned to speak/The devil gave me a crooked start/When he gave me crooked feet - This is sort of the companion to "Born This Way". Tex's father took a lot more shape since I wrote this initial note, but it applies even more now. Tex was never going to walk straight (dual meaning intended).

I dug a hole inside my heart/To put you in your grave/At this point it was you or me/And mama didn't raise no slave/You took my face in both your hands/And looked me in the eye/And I went down with such a force/That in your grave I lie - I was coy with my notes on these lyrics previously, but it does work on multiple levels - Tex and Sawyer both have to bury each other in their hearts after that deadly confrontation and, for seven years, Sawyer thinks he put Tex in his actual grave. Which, from his perspective, might as well be his own grave for as much as he wants to exist in a world without Tex. Anyway, yeah, graves are a thing in the book.

8. "Dangerous" - Royal Deluxe

Mostly a vibes song - I like to think of this as a theme song of sorts, for when Sawyer and Tex were in their early twenties, perfect partners, taking the West by storm and becoming figures of legend.

9. "Blood on My Name" - The Brothers Bright

As I said, Sawyer is the less violent of the two, doesn't like being an outlaw at all really but that doesn't mean he isn't deadly. Tex wears his anger like a well-worn coat, but Sawyer's rage is buried deep.

Yes, Sawyer's rage is buried deep, but it's also different from Tex's - it's a simplification, but Tex spends most of his life angry at himself, Sawyer spends that time angry at the world. After Sawyer shoots Tex, those positions switch. Tex is the one who has blood all over his reputation, his name, but Sawyer's one kill (so he thinks) haunts him in a way killing never bothered Tex.

There's a reckoning a-coming/And it burns beyond the grave/With lead inside my belly/'Cause my soul has lost its way/Oh, Lazarus, how did your debts get paid? - brain goes brrrrr at this re: Sawyer, but I've got to save some thoughts for the actual book.

10. "Gun in My Hand" - Dorothy

Why did love put a gun in my hand...Why did love put a knife in my heart - I mean, that really says it all.

All the talk of redemption, revenge, opening up scars...delicious.

Was it for the thrill of pushin' my hope to the edge - if I think about this too long I'll spontaneously combust.

11. "Desperado" - Rihanna*

Okay, okay, okay - this is the keystone song of both this playlist and their relationship. I love it. It's modern and cool but has that old West swag and, okay, look, this might be a stretch, but "Desperado" sort of sounds like "Desperate Hollow" said with a drawl and GAH. I love this song.

I'm not tryna go against you/Actually, I'm going withcha/Gotta get up out of here and/You ain't leaving me behind/I know you won't, 'cause we share common interests/You need me, there ain't no leaving me behind - the premise of this story initially really hinged on one fact: that Tex and Sawyer needed each other to get out of Desperate Hollow.

There ain't nothing here for me anymore/But I don't wanna be alone - I have so much to say about this lyric but I don't think I can without writing an essay that gives away the whole book, so I'll shut up.

If you want we could runaways/running from any sight of love - again, if I speak--

12. "Heaven and Back" - Emily West

I don't know, I just wanted to end this playlist on a kinda romantic song! this is one of those songs that just feels like them and I can't describe why.

A big reason this song is on the playlist is that, back in 2019, I was building a pitch for a big studio that ended up going nowhere, but the exec I was working with sent me this song at the same moment I was putting the final touches on this playlist and it just clicked in my brain.

I want you to be my man/I want you to be more than a friend/I dare you to break our plans

#desperate hollow #playlists #my playlists #playlist #lauren makes things #long post #not putting this under a read more YOU SHALL LOOK UPON MY GAY OUTLAWS #Spotify

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tom-whore-dleston · 2 years

Note

life in plastic 👠 - enemies to lovers w/ marc spector; “I have the feeling that you’re trying not to kiss me and I give you permission to just do it.” 👀

congrats again jordan, to the next 900 followers ❤️🥂

God Damn that Marc Spector

Pairing: Marc Spector x f. reader

Genre: fluff/rom-com

Be aware of: enemies to lovers (?), SamBucky wedding, hella banter, alcohol consumption, Sam and Bucky are DRONK, accidental confession, making out, suggestiveness, Steven and Jake are not present

Summary: You grow closer to the man you hate when both of your best friends marry one another.

Word Count: 2k

Notes: omg Isla, please forgive me for how late I am to writing this 😭😭 I was starting to lose hope in finishing this but a sudden burst of inspo came and now I will be having Marc brain rot for the rest of the century dlkgjaldkhg thank you again for the request and I love you forever bb 😘🫶 Huge thank you to @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog for looking over it when I first started writing this and to @yummymatcha for being my Marc hype woman and beta-reader!! Remember to reblog and comment if you enjoyed what you read 😊

Marc Spector was a name that made your eyes burn from how hard you rolled them every time you heard it. Even the thought of him and his shit eating grin made you want to pound your fist against a wall. However, you never did because he wasn’t worth bruising your knuckles nor putting a fresh dent in the wall.

Years ago, your best friend, Sam, and his boyfriend, Bucky, set you and Marc up on a blind date. They figured that if they set up their best friends together, you all could go on fun double dates together. It was only five minutes into your blind date when you both realized how much you and Marc hated one another. Bucky and Sam were disappointed that it didn’t work out between you both so they tried to keep you both at a distance. That was until they got engaged.

It was no surprise that Sam asked you to be his maid of honor and Bucky asked Marc to be his best man. This also meant that you and Marc had to collaborate on making sure the wedding was absolutely perfect. The only obstacle you had to pass was not killing each other before the big day.

The first few times you met with Marc, you resisted the urge to stab him with the nearest object because of his sarcastic remarks. The only thing keeping you from murdering Marc in daylight was the image of your best friend beaming with his new life long partner all thanks to the work you did for him. Eventually, you learned to settle your differences with Marc and work as a team.

By the time Sam and Bucky’s wedding arrived, you and Marc watched your best friends become married. Thankfully, neither of you had a scratch or stab wound in sight. The rest of the wedding was full of love, laughter, and many, many drinks. You and Marc may have had a hard time seeing eye to eye in the beginning, but the one thing you could both agree on was an open bar all night. Unfortunately, it did lead to both Bucky and Sam getting wasted.

The newlyweds couldn’t make their grand exit out the banquet hall because they were stumbling over their steps. As maid of honor and best man, you and Marc stepped in to escort Bucky and Sam to their honeymoon suite at the top floor. While in the elevator, Sam turned to you with his eyelids half open.

“Hey,” he whispered loudly, despite only the four of you occupying the elevator lift. “Did you finally tell Marc that you like him?”

“What?!” you shrieked, face warming up like a tea kettle over fire. Although you fought to avoid Marc’s gaze, you already knew he was snickering with his hands on his hips. Meanwhile, Bucky stared off into space, watching the floor numbers change.

“What do you mean ‘what?’ You literally told me that you were going to take that tie off of him and wrap it around his wrists so you could-”

Ding!

Saved by the bell.

You sighed, “Alrighty, you and Bucky are clearly drunk so let’s get you both to bed.” As the elevator doors opened, you and Marc dragged Bucky and Sam out towards their suite at the end of the hall. Sam giggled hysterically.

“Oh my god, Sam, Marc is soooooo hot!” He pitched his voice so it matched yours. You gritted your teeth as your lips turned into a thin line. He may have been your best friend, but right at that moment, you wanted to murder him more than the man you actually hated.

“Sam, gimme the key so I don’t have to search your pockets.”

“I know who’s pants you want to search though.” Your best friend looked at his equally drunk husband, both of them bursting into a fit of cackles. God, it felt like dealing with two 12-year-olds in grown up bodies. Finally, Marc jumped in.

“C’mon, Sammy.” The exhaustion was apparent in Marc’s voice. “Today has been a blast, but me and the lady need some sleep and would rather do anything other than babysitting you two.”

Sam blew a raspberry in Marc’s face. “What a party pooper.” He rummaged through his pockets, pulling out the key. Your best friend turned to you. “You sure, you wanna bang this guy?”

Blowing off his comment, you snatched the key from him, hovering it over the sensor on the door. As the door unlocked, you glanced over to Marc, mouthing a sincere thank you, in which he just winked smugly at you.

You and Marc managed to guide Bucky and Sam towards the giant king size bed. Bucky and Sam didn’t bother shedding off their tuxes before climbing onto the bed and immediately falling asleep. Loud snores echoed throughout the bedroom, taking that as your sign to escape quickly without a peep.

“Well, that was interesting.” Marc huffed out a breath of relief. You both chuckled in unison without looking at one another.

“That’s Sam for you,” you added. “He talks out of his ass when he’s drunk.” The two of you began walking slowly to the elevator, trying to stall time so you could have more quality time together. By the time you reached the elevator, Marc cleared his throat.

“I don't know about you, but I’m starving. I barely ate during dinner and I have a huge craving for curly fries. Care to join me?” Your stomach rumbled as he mentioned dinner. The same dinner you also neglected since the steak you were looking forward to eating was a little too well for your liking. You nodded, stepping into the elevator before Marc.

“Yeah, I’d love to.”

On the way to the nearest fast food joint that was surprisingly still open, you and Marc talked about the wedding, including all the pros and cons. It was safe to say that the wedding was an overall success, minus Bucky and Sam taking advantage of the open bar. You shared a few laughs with Marc while reminiscing on every single moment of the day. Even though he kept his eyes glued to the road, you took in the way they crinkled when he concentrated.

Then, you began to notice other features that never crossed your mind. He would lightly bite his tongue after hearing your giggles. He’d also run his hand through his dark hair when there was a moment of silence. A few gray hairs peeked through on the side of his head, even on the stubbles of his beard.

Yes, Marc was an extremely handsome man, and also yes, he was starting to grow on you. However, you still couldn’t shake yourself from the blind date that made you hate him all these years. Deep down, you knew it wasn’t fair to hold that grudge, especially with all the progress you have made with Marc. But were you truly ready for something more with the man that gave you hell?

“Hey, sweet pea, what’s on your mind?” That nickname gave you butterflies every time he called you that. He didn’t start referring to you as sweet pea until you started planning the wedding and demanded the DJ to play “Sweet Pea” by Amos Lee as part of the grand entrance playlist.

You brushed your thoughts off with a short laugh. “Oh, I was just thinking about what to order. I’m debating between a sandwich or cheeseburger. Or anything with cheese at this point.”

“Quite the inner conflict, I bet,” Marc joked. “Whatever you want, go ahead and order it. It’s all on me.”

“What? Are you sure?”

“Don’t worry about it, sweet pea. I know you were swamped today so let me treat you.” Your cheeks warmed up and your palms grew clammy.

“Thank you, Marc! Really, I appreciate you for having my back.” Suddenly, your hand was engulfed by Marc’s, his thumb grazing yours gently.

“Consider this a second chance date.”

As you headed back to the hotel, you ate your meals in silence. “Sweet Pea” blasted through the speakers and Marc caught you swaying to the song out of the corner of his eye, your cheeks filled with bites from your cheeseburger. He smiled to himself as he kept driving, sipping on his soda.

Once you arrived back, you had finished eating and fell into the typical fast food coma. You cursed as you exited Marc’s car, the frosty air biting at your exposed arms and legs. Marc rushed to your side, slipping off his jacket and draping it around your shoulders. The heat and smell from his body transferred onto you as you buried yourself into the jacket. A new sensation coursed through your veins, a sensation that you typically felt while thinking of Marc late in the evening. You tried your hardest to ignore it as he walked you to your room.

By the time you were in front of your room, you didn’t want to let go of the warm jacket, nor did you want to let go of this moment with the man you were trying hard to get out of your head. As you were returning the jacket to Marc, he shook his head and pushed it back towards you.

“Go ahead and keep it, sweet pea. I’ll come back and get it in the morning.” He gazed up and down your frame, thinking about how adorable you looked swimming in the jacket.

“Oh, okay. Good, I was still cold anyway.” You fought the urge to stare into his gorgeous gaze. All of a sudden, you were frozen. Your hand tried to reach for the room key in your clutch, but an invisible force was holding you back. Actually, it was just Marc using just one finger to lift your chin, forcing you to look into his eyes.

“I have the feeling that you’re trying not to kiss me and I give you permission to just do it.” This caused you to blink in bewilderment.

“Uhh…excuse me?” You couldn’t believe the words coming out of his mouth.

“Second chance date. Remember?”

You rolled your eyes and backed away from him. “Jesus, Marc, you’re exasperating.”

“Ooh, that’s a big word.” Marc laughed. “I may be exasperating but at least I’m not the one lying to myself.”

Your blood was boiling. For once, you were actually having a more than decent time with him and he decided to ruin it with his stupid remarks. You wanted to spit another insult in his face. You wanted to slap him, punch him even. Instead, you yanked him towards you by the collar and slotted your lips against his.

All logic flew out the window as you pressed your chest against his as his arms wrapped around your waist. His kiss was so intoxicating you could have fainted from the way his tongue slid across your lower lip. Your tongues tangled passionately, all the built up tension releasing for your mind and body. Marc pinned you against the door frame, causing you to snap back to your senses. You pulled away from Marc, catching your breath and straightening your posture.

“Well, there you go.” You threw your hands in the air. “Happy?”

“Unfortunately, no. You didn’t give me a chance to kiss you more.”

“Well, that’s too bad because it’s not gonna happen again.” You reached into your clutch for your room key.

“You sure about that?” Marc asked rhetorically. You paused as Marc leaned his side against the wall. For a brief moment, you actually considered kissing him again right then and there. But where was the fun in that?

You scoffed and shook your head. “Good night, Marc.” Once your room key scanned against the door sensor, you wiggled the doorknob and retreated to your room, not bothering to glance back at Marc’s cheeky smirk.

You shimmied out of the oversized jacket, throwing it over the armrest of the love seat. Then, you changed out of your dress and into a baggy t-shirt and sweatpants. Yet, the touch of Marc’s hands still lingered on your body. No matter how long you brushed your teeth for, your lips still savored the bittersweetness of his mouth. And you found yourself longing for at least one more taste.

God damn that Marc Spector!

Navigation | Fic Masterlist | Marc Spector Masterlist

#barbie and the 900 followers #life in plastic 👠#buckybleu #jordan loves isla #marc spector #moon knight #marc spector x reader #marc spector x you #marc spector fic #marc spector fanfiction #marc spector fluff #moon knight fic #moon knight x reader #moon knight x you #moon knight fanfic #moon knight fluff #inklaur

154 notes · View notes

voltstone · 9 months

Text

…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.

#volt's library #twdg clementine #clementine comic #twdg #notmyclementine #mine is still an alcoholic #fight me #long essay #twdg 4 #twdg 3 #twdg 2 #this essay is dated with the second comic out but oh well #reposted from last account #if this looks familiar it's because i yoinked it from my last (dead) account #tldr fanfiction exists for a reason #and that canon vs fandom is kinda weird #so skybound cant do anything about their canon #they cant do anything about my alcoholic clementine either #they ainT TAKING HER OUT OF MY GRIMEY GRIMEY COLD HANDS

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