#there's a song that inspired this entire fic

[meelusinee]

NOW SHE HAS ME UNDER HER SKIRT ✦ M.R x READER

in which mattheo is absolutely in love with you before you two even talk for the first time

pairing: lovesick!mattheo riddle x reader

tags: lovesick mattheo, fem reader, so tamino inspired

word count: 3.7k

warnings: just fluff again! along with easily flustered mattheo (+ teasing theo)

author's note: my second post!! i made a small playlist of tamino songs i used for mattheo in this. if you haven’t, please go listen to him (his music is so good). i based this off a small part of my first fic where theo sang to reader. as always, while english is my first (and only) language, that does not mean i claim it in any way shape or form (aka this will probably suck ass)

NOW SHE HAS ME UNDER HER SKIRT | M.R x READER

Mattheo didn’t know much about love. 

Between being raised by a dictator and his craziest follower, he already didn’t have a very good start. Especially whenever he would get in trouble, the Cruciatus Curse was definitely no joke. Not to mention everyone pestering him about the legacy he led. News flash to the Gryffindors who would try to pick on him, he found it quite obvious that he was Voldemort’s son.

Suffice to say that he didn’t know much about love. He never had a true showcase of it, never had an example of it to compare to anything. The closest he ever had being another stunted teenager by the name of Theodore that considered him his brother, but even then there was still distance.

That was until he met you.

You, the most beautiful person he had ever met in his entire existence on this Earth. Anything he�� lol looked at on you he would find absolutely perfect, from the color of your eyes to the way your hair bounced in the sunlight.

That alone made it hard to approach you. Your nice demeanor seemed to make it even harder.

So, he settled with admiring from afar. Mattheo knew your schedule, the classes that you would take and every time that it varied. He would subtly watch you in classes, hang around the same areas you did during your break periods, or even where you went for fun. And, to the best of his ability, he tried to avoid things that looked bad. No more fights or cursing, not unless he was truly provoked.

His mind also got its grubby hands on the idea of a journal. A place he could write about you freely, one he charmed so only he could read it. Entries, song ideas, anything he could think of. You made him an artist, you as his perfect muse.

And it all got even better when you two finally met.

You had just walked down to the courtyard, Mary Janes clacking along the rocks as you made your way over to a small pillar.

Recently, you noticed someone sitting by the pillars a lot more than usual. He was tall, his face usually covered by his brown curls as he wrote inna small journal he always carried with him. Said tall man with a face covered by his brown curls was your current potions partner, you had both been assigned to create a Liquid Luck potion.

“Hello?” you called out gently. face tilted down just a bit as you looked down at him. His eyes locked with yours when he looked up, the most beautiful shade of molten honey you had ever seen meeting your eyes. “Hi there, stranger.”

“Hello?” he whispered back at you, eyebrows furrowed as he spoke. His face looked rather cute when it was all scrunched up like that, a light blush covering his cheeks.

“I’m your Potions partner.” you said with a smile, flattening your skirt before moving to sit down next to him. “For the Liquid Luck project.”

“Oh,” he whispered, nodding as he closed his journal. It had a rather pretty leather cover, the pages aged and covered in ink from what you could tell. “Yeah, I remember. Y/N, right?”

“Yeah,” you smiled, nodding. “And you’re Mattheo.”

“Yes I am.” he said, a soft smile coming on his face as he heard that. He looked at you with something special in his eyes, eyes that carved themselves deep into your soul with the most intricate patterns you could think of.

The trance both of you seemed to be stuck in was broken when he cleared his throat, fingers tapping on his journal. “Did you have any ideas for the project?”

“Oh,” you whispered, nodding. “Yes, yes I do. I was thinking that we head to the library and research different potion methods and whatnot. Based on Slughorn’s instructions, I’m assuming that the instructions in the books won’t help much.”

“You’re a genius.” he whispered, barely loud enough for you to hear.

“What was that?” you asked him, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Nothing,” he said, clearing his throat as he began to sit up. “Do you want to go now?”

Mattheo thought that he was dreaming, if he was being honest.

The girl of his dreams, the girl that he had wrote almost obsessively day and night about for almost six years, that same girl was currently sitting across from him. Laughing.

“You’re ridiculous,” she smiled at his joke, her voice sweet like a piece of cotton candy melting on your tongue. He didn’t even remember what he had joked about at this point, his mind turning to mush the moment he heard that sound pass your lips.

Those lips that haunted his dreams every single night, the image of them so plush and pure he wanted to worship them like one would a holy angel. They looked absolutely perfect.

“Thank you,” he whispered, smiling softly as he rested his chin on his hand. He probably looked like a lovesick puppy, but he didn’t mind. 

“I found something really interesting in this book  by the way,” you said, Mattheo’s eyes instantly darting to where your hands were resting on the page. “It says in the recipe that we need to juice a squill bulb, which most people just cut it for. But this recipe here notes that squeezing ingredients over a funnel gets more juice out.”

“That’s really interesting.” he whispered, his gaze looking at your face as you spoke. 

“Isn’t it?” you asked with a smile. “And here it says that adding the entire Murtlap makes the potion last longer, rather than just growth.”

“That’s also really interesting.” he whispered again, gaze still stuck on your face. You looked so pretty whenever you were concentrating on things, the way your eyebrows furrowed making him think of a million different songs and rhythms. 

“Is it?” you asked with a chuckle.

“Well,” he muttered, looking at you with a small smile on his face. “I always found Potions an interesting topic.”

“Always is not a word. It’s more of a concept.” you said, humming as you continued reading the pages. Mattheo chuckled softly, looking at you like a lovesick puppy.

“You’re lovely,” he whispered. 

Theo was sitting in his bed reading a book, his curtains almost completely closed as he flipped between page to page. At least, he pretended to.

Recently, he had noticed Mattheo’s obsessive journaling habits. How his hands would be covered in ink by the time he was finished, or how he’d write until his new candle burnt out. Sometimes Mattheo would write even when the candle burnt out, instead opting for yet another one.

It was rather concerning to Theo, to say the least. Out of all of the things Mattheo could do, he was changing who he was. Self-improvement was one thing, but it seemed like he changed an obsession from fighting to writing.

“I can feel you staring at me.” Mattheo mumbled, looking back over at where Theo was sitting.

“I’m surprised you can,” Theo said under his breath, closing his book and standing up. “With how much you’ve been writing, I’d assume you get sucked in by a black hole sometime soon.”

“Oh hush,” he whispered, looking up from the journal. His hands were stained black and red with quill ink, the candle beside him still burning brightly. “Why do you keep staring at me? You’ve been doing it all week.”

“Your journal.” Theo smirked, walking behind Mattheo and placing his hands on his Mattheo’s shoulder. “What’s inside?”

“Why would I tell you?” Mattheo grumbled, continuing to write in the journal. Theo’s eyes squinted as they tried to read whatever was on the page, but the words were too jumbled to make any sense to him. No doubt a charm.

“You charmed the journal?” Theo asked curiously, looking down at Mattheo.

“Like you care.” he whispered under his breath, the quill scratching loudly against the paper. The room was quiet other than that, nothing but the quill scratching and the candle crackling.

“I do.” Theo said, his voice a bit more stern. He pulled up a chair next to Mattheo, resting his elbow on the table. “Mattheo, you’re pushing everyone away. Even me, and it’s not healthy. All you do is write in this journal, it’s kind of worrying.”

“I just like writing,” Mattheo whispered, moving his legs to rest his knees near his chest.

“About what?” Theo asked, his voice more soft than teasing.

“You’ll judge.” Mattheo whispered again, flicking the quill back and forth as his eyes glanced over at Theo. “Why do you want to know?”

“Because you’re my best friend.” Theo whispered. “I promise I won’t judge.”

Mattheo sighed before turning to the journal, pressing his wand against it as the words came into view more clearly. His handwriting was a lot more cursive than Theo first remembered, no doubt changing the more he wrote. 

“It’s a journal about her,” Mattheo whispered, flipping through some of the pages. “Love letters, poems, songs and stuff.”

“Her?” Theo asked curiously. “Who’s her?”

“Her,” Mattheo muttered to Theo, picking at his fingernails as he spoke. He looked like a blushing schoolboy who found his first love, it was rather cute to watch. “It’s, like, she’s a girl I just really like. I think about her a lot, you know? And I’m just trying to improve myself for her.”

“What’s her name?” Theo asked, resting his head against his hand as he crossed his legs.

“Y/N.” Mattheo sighed, like the word itself was a part of some holy prophecy. “She’s so beautiful, you know? Like something from heaven, just beautiful. And I just can’t get her out of my head.”

“Have you ever tried talking to her?” Theo asked, a small smile on his face.

“We have this project together right now.” he said, chuckling softly as he spoke. He was so down bad. “She took me to the library to research more about potions. Merlin, she’s so smart Theo. She figured the reason why nobody could make the potion was because the instructions were wrong.”

“So you both started researching?” Theo asked.

“She researched, yeah,” Mattheo said, before chuckling again. His hand moved to scratch the back of his neck nervously. “I kind of just sat watching her the entire time.” 

“Mattheo,” Theo chuckled softly, shaking his head. 

“You said you wouldn’t judge!” Mattheo protested.

“I’m not judging.” Theo chuckled, looking down at the journal. “I’m just confused on how you think you’ll get your girl if you can’t even talk to her. Journaling can only go so far.”

“I know,” Mattheo whispered, looking down at his journal again. “But it still helps.”

Theo nodded, looking down at the journal again. “What are you writing about right now?”

“Uh,” he muttered, looking at the pages. “It’s a song. She said something at the library that made me think of a song, I haven’t been able to get it out of my head.”  

“What’s it sound like.” Theo asked, leaning back in his seat.

“Uhm,” he whispered, picking at his nails again as he pushed the journal towards Theo. He hummed softly as he picked it up, eyes squinting as he tried to read his handwriting.

Darling, just calm with your voice

Let your heart sing, how I always enjoy 

When you say “always” is not a word

You think love is a bit absurd.

“That’s really nice,” Theo said, looking up at Mattheo with a small smirk. “This is a lot better than I thought it’d be, to be honest.”

“What did you think I was writing about?” Mattheo asked confusedly.

“Dark magic or something.” Theo chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Like you were possessed by a ghost to figure out how to resurrect themselves.”

Mattheo chuckled at that, taking his journal back. “I think you’ll find someone like this, you know. It makes life really nice.”

“Being in love?” Theo asked, an eyebrow raised.

“Yeah,” Mattheo whispered. “In love.”

“Well, there’s always an opportunity for that. And when it happens, it’ll happen.” Theo said, patting his pockets and pulling out a box of cigarettes. “But until then, there’s cigarettes.”

“You know the way to my heart, don’t you?” Mattheo snickered at that, using the lit candle to light his own cigarette.

It had been a couple of weeks since you and Mattheo had started working on your project. You had figured out how to maximize the efficiency of your potion brewing, including changing methods of brewing and preparing ingredients. After about three different trials, you had finally found the perfect way to brew the potion. 

“That’s perfect.” Mattheo smiled softly at you, chuckling softly as he scratched the back of his neck. In all honesty, it looked like a regular potion to him. “I think that’s perfect, right?”

“That is perfect.” you said, giggling softly as his reaction You found it rather cute, if you were being honest. He seemed rather nervous around you. “Thank you for doing all of this with me, the potion work and all. Most people would probably just leave it to me, you know?”

“Why would they leave?” Mattheo asked, eyebrows furrowing.

You shrugged, looking down at the potion still set in the cauldron as you spoke. “I don’t really know. I guess people consider me weird or something like that. Someone said that I was whimsical once, I don’t think it was a nice way though.”

“That’s absolutely ridiculous.” Mattheo spat. He couldn’t understand the logic of that. In his eyes, you were absolutely perfect. He would give anything in the world to hang out with you more often than he got too, and people gave that up for free? The thought was absolutely ridiculous.

You chuckled quietly at that, smiling softly. “Yeah?”

“Definitely. I mean,” he paused, looking up at you like that was the most absurd thing in the entire world. He had a small flush on his face, no doubt questioning what he was going to say. “I mean, you’re such a nice person. And I think that hanging around you is comforting.”

“And I think that you’re rather sweet.” you chuckled, looking at him with a soft smile.

“I’m being serious!” Mattheo said, looking you in the eyes. You hadn’t heard him talk this much in the entire time that you had been working with him, and you especially didn’t expect it to be him defending you. “You’re just, like, you. Which is really sweet, you know? I really like you and your whimsy, or whatever they try to call you.”

You giggled again, smiling softly at him as you scooted a bit closer. “You’re rather nice yourself, if I do say so myself.”

“Thank you.” he whispered, his voice raising a pitch as he looked at the potion. “Do we need to test this?”

“I think so.” she nodded. “Do you want to do it?”

Mattheo looked at the potion, a small frown coming on her face. If anything went wrong with the podcast, he wouldn’t want you to be hurt by it. Which led to him nodding, the best option for him obviously being him taking the potion himself. 

“I’ll bottle it for you.” you said, grabbing the small ladle and pouring it inside the potion vial. “Here, one vial of Liquid Luck for you.”

Mattheo smiled softly as he took a sniff of it. “Is it meant to smell like something?”

“No, just air. I mean, clean air. Not like toxic air or anything.” you said, before ending your small speel. “It doesn’t smell like anything.”

Mattheo nodded again, taking a swig of it before coughing. “That’s definitely hot.”

“It did just come off the cauldron.” you chuckled, fingers fidgeting slightly. “Do you feel lucky?”

Mattheo looked up at you with a look you could only describe as a lovesick puppy, a small flush covering his face as he admired you. You could only assume the amount of thoughts running through his mind were plenty, some very hard to sort through. 

“Yeah,” he whispered, blinking slowly as he looked at you. “Very lucky.”

You chuckled softly at that, your face flushing as you watched his eyes lock onto your lips. “Do I have something on my lips or something?”

“No,” he whispered softly, his Adam’s Apple bobbing as he spoke. “No, I just,”

“Something on my teeth?” you asked, shining your teeth to him.

“I want to kiss you.” he whispered. 

Your mouth closed again as you heard that, eyes locking onto his after he spoke. That didn’t last long though, as his eyes focused back on your lips again. “You what?”

“I want to kiss you.” he said a bit more clearly, his voice hoarse as he spoke. “I mean, I don’t want to pressure you. But I really want to kiss you.”

“You can kiss me.” you whispered softly to him, scooting a bit closer to him in return. 

Mattheo blinked for a couple of seconds, the shock of your answer plastered on his face. It filled you with a small sense of confidence, the blush on his face fueling your own. “I can?”

“You can.” you smiled.

Mattheo smiled brightly at that, the burn of it brighter than the sun sucking his lips in like a blackhole would. His lips immediately met yours, burning like fireworks against his skin. It was absolute bliss to him, burning through his skin and turning him into nothing but lovesick ash.

“Your lips are absolutely perfect, my love.” he whispered, his eyes boring into yours with a gaze full of adoration. “So perfect.”

“Was your luck to try and kiss me, Riddle?” you chuckled softly at him. 

“This is the luckiest moment of my life.” he whispered. 

“Theo!” Mattheo spat out, opening the dorm room door as he stormed in. His palms looked sweaty, and his face was absolutely covered in a bright blush. 

“Mattheo.” Theo said his name back, closing his book as he looked at where Mattheo had stormed in. He looked absolutely wrecked, almost drenched in sweat. “You look like you just got your ass kicked on the Quidditch field.”

“I just,” he whispered, walking closer to Theo as he paced around the room. “I just kissed her.”

“Y/N?” Theo asked, a small smile crossing her face. “You kissed her?”

“It was so perfect.” he whispered, laying down on Theo’s bed. “Like, it was like her lips had a magnetic pull on me. I couldn’t stop for the next hour. A whole hour!”

“That’s wild, mate.” he chuckled softly, patting Mattheo on the head.

“It was just perfect,” he whispered under his breath, sighing softly. “Like, I don’t know how else to describe it. Maybe like looking at a supernova for the first time.”

“You are down bad, Mattheo.” he chuckled softly at that, continuing to pat his friend on the head.

“And then we, after that right?” he said, the smile on his face only growing larger. “We snuck off to this broom closet. You know the ones. And we did, we had,” he paused, sighing in frustration as his words jumbled in his head. “You know?”

“I know.” Theo chuckled.

“I have a song idea again.” Mattheo said, sitting up again as he rushed to the journal he kept so dearly to his heart. “I will be dead to the world for the next few hours.”

“You want me to go tell Y/N that, lover boy?” Theo smirked.

“She can come in whenever.” Mattheo said, dipping his quill in black ink. “I already gave her our dormitory password.”

“You what?”

“I have a present for you.” Mattheo whispered under his breath, a small smile on his face as he walked towards you.

It was the 6 month anniversary of one of the happiest relationships you had ever been in. There was communication and there was love. Small dates near the Black Lake at midnight, with breakfast you stole from the Great Hall earlier. Times where he’d take you into town and let you dress up however you wanted, all on the cards he stole from Malfoy. Or small get-togethers like this, hangouts at the top of the Astronomy Tower. 

And the presents were always lovely. Small poems that he wrote for you, or love letters that he hand wrapped himself. A small blush or dress you had been eyeing for more than two seconds, or room decor that went with your forever indecisive aesthetics. 

“You do?” you giggled softly, gasping softly as he pulled out a small guitar. “A song?”

“I’ve written a couple for you,” he whispered. “And I wanted to sing them to you. For our anniversary.”

“I love you.” you giggled, smiling as he sat down.

He cleared his throat as he made sure the guitar was in tune, strumming a few chords before eventually developing a melody. It seemed almost hypnotic the way his hands moved, his voice humming along as he figured out the rhythm.

“Yesterday, I was a word. Left with no voice to speak it,” he hummed softly, his voice and the guitar both vibrating through the walls. You smiled brightly as you heard his voice, not realizing how pretty his voice actually sounded.

“Now I am a happy song, placed on the lips of a woman.” he sang, winking at you. He continued for a few lines, a small smirk growing on his lips as he got to the instrumental part.

“What are you going to sing next?” you asked, watching him giggle softly. “Seriously!”

“Patience,” he whispered, chuckling as he strung the melody again, his eyes darting down at the guitar. “Now she has me, under her skirt,”

“Mattheo!” you flushed, slapping his arm and breaking the rhythm of his song. “My skirt?”

The both of you burst out into a laugh at that, the sound breaking through the cold night air that breezed through the alcove you sat in. Or maybe you just felt warm in his presence, a constant feeling of love rushing through your body.

“Can I finish my song now?” he smirked.

“I suppose you could.” you whispered, resting your head on his shoulder as he continued to sing.

AUTHOR'S NOTE

my second post oh my GOD this one took a hot minute to get through. beta-reading and proof reading is definitely not my jam, and there's definitely things that i missed in this. but i hope it still works out well, especially the whole lovesick angle i was going for. if you guys haven't already, please please please go check out tamino's music. it is actually so. good. if you listen to hozier or adrianne lenker, i think you'd really like his songs (my favorites are the first disciple and habibi)

as always, please like, comment, and reblog! it really helps out, and i really appreciate everyone who does! if you guys have any requests or something you can request in the ask box!

[mxltifxnd0m]

dazzling starlet, bardot reincarnate ⟢ s. winchester

summary: unrequited love is a bitch; inspired/based on the song lacy by olivia rodrigo

pairings: stanford era! sam winchester x gn! reader (unrequited), sam winchester x afab! reader, sam winchester x jessica moore

word count: 2.3K

warnings: canon compliant, angst, lot of angst, unrequited love, mentions of sex/masturbation, some cursing, no happy ending, kinda edited

a/n: i had written this around this time last year and then finished it in the summer but i hated how it turned out so i finally was able to rewrite and it think it turned out much better. also i'd recommend giving the song a listen before reading!

but enjoy the fic! please like, comment, and reblog!! your feedback fuels me!

𝘴𝘢𝘮 𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵

You didn’t know if you hated Jessica or hated the fact that she was everything you weren’t. You couldn’t help but feel like something was punching at your ribs anytime you saw her. Jessica was the epitome of beauty; she was tall, had curly blonde hair that never seemed to get frizzy, big blue eyes that were always wide with kindness,  and a sickly sweet smile that never failed to make you feel like your teeth could rot at the sight of it.

Not only was she beautiful on the outside, but it was like she didn’t have a bad bone in her body. Jessica was caring, intelligent, witty, strong-willed, and generous. You knew she had a big heart after meeting her a few times. She was practically an angel. 

You knew it from the moment Sam introduced you to her as his girlfriend that you had lost him. 

You tugged at the sleeves of your form-fitting black shirt at your wrists as you lingered outside of the apartment where Sam told you to meet him. Some of your mutual friends were hosting a small get-together before you guys went on fall break.

Just go in, mingle for a little, meet Sam’s girlfriend while you feel your heartbreak, and then leave. You think back to the plan that you made while you were getting ready. 

You take a deep breath and let it out before knocking on the door.

When the door swings open, you’re met with a tipsy Brady.  

“Jinx! You’re fin-finally here!” Brady’s words are slurred as he welcomes you into the apartment.

You gave him a tight smile in response. “Yeah, I’m here, Brady. I got held up with some homework.” You never really understood why Brady started to call you Jinx, but he’s called you that nickname so many times. Now you’re stuck with it, and now everyone in his circle (barring Sam) calls you by it.  

You tolerated it, but you’ve always gotten weird vibes from Brady when Sam introduced the two of you.

Brady swung an arm around your shoulders, and you could smell the alcohol on his breath as he leaned down to speak to you.

“You ready to meet Sam’s girl?” Brady asked you slyly.

You raised an eyebrow at him. How did he know that you were meeting her for the first time?

“Oh, wipe that look off of your face, Jinxy. Sam told me before this that he was introducing his best friend to Jessica.”

“Did he tell you before or after you consumed an entire liquor cabinet?” You quipped, trying to hide the inner turmoil you were feeling.

Brady straightened up like he hadn’t been tipsy the entire time. “For your information, it was before, plus I’ve only had a couple of drinks. Besides, who do you think introduced him to Jess in the first place.” He had an all-knowing smirk on his face like he knew something that you didn’t before it turned into a sly grin.

Brady tapped your nose once before letting you go and stalking off into the living room, where you could hear everyone laughing and chatting. You huffed as you slipped off your sneakers and left them in the doorway. You wiped your hands on the back of the jeans you were wearing and decided to head to the kitchen for a drink. Being stone-cold sober while meeting Sam’s new girlfriend was not on your to-do list.

As you strolled into the kitchen, the counters covered with various bottles of liquor and red solo cups, you froze as you saw Sam leaning on one of the counters and talking animatedly with a blonde who was almost his height and was standing right in front of him.

From the entryway of the kitchen, you saw the adoration for this girl in his eyes as he spoke. Suddenly, his hazel eyes were torn away from the woman standing in front of him as he glanced around the kitchen before they landed on your form. Sam brightened, the dimples on his face becoming more prominent as he called out your name and gestured for you to come closer.

As you made your way over to the pair, the blonde turned around to face you, and you faltered in your steps as your eyes studied her.

God, she was stunning. You thought as you approached the two of them. 

Sam had stopped leaning on the counter by the time you made it to him and wrapped you up in a big bear hug. You stumbled from its sudden force, but you couldn’t help but melt into his embrace as you chuckled at his antics.

“You’ve had a few already, haven’t you?” You asked as you pulled back to see the tell-tale signs of Sam being tipsy. His cheeks were flushed as his bangs kept falling in his eyes, but a big silly smile was on his face as he nodded.

You pulled away from him entirely as he pulled Jessica into his side.

“Jess, this is my best friend.” He gave her your name. “And this is Jessica, my girlfriend,” Sam said with a toothy smile and shot Jessica a loving look.  

“It’s so nice to meet you! Sam’s told me so much about you, but he forgot to mention how pretty you were!”

You were taken aback by the sudden compliment from Jessica. “It’s nice to meet you too.” You said it with a kind smile, though it felt like you were pulling teeth as the words fell from your mouth.

The three of you fell into a comfortable conversation as you went and grabbed a drink for yourself. But, as the night went on and the three of you eventually moved into the living room, you got separated from the two of them.

As you were talking to some of your friends there, your eyes always looked at Sam and Jessica. You can see why Sam had fallen for Jess as you saw them interact with each other. You hated it so much. You quickly excused yourself as you saw them cozy up to one another and sharing stolen glances and touches.

You managed to escape to the bathroom, which was empty (thankfully), and you locked yourself in the small space to try and compose yourself. A lump formed in your throat as you stared at yourself in the mirror, feeling like the world was closing in on itself. 

When did they meet? It’s not fair; I have known him longer than she has. I’ve loved him longer. Why did he choose her? Why couldn’t he have chosen me? Your mind was spiraling, and all you wanted to do was scream.

Jessica had everything you wanted.

Without realizing it, hot tears started to stream down your face. You quickly wiped away your tears and made sure you looked like you hadn’t been crying. You made your way out of the bathroom and almost bumped into Jess in the process.

Excellent, the one person I didn’t want to see. You thought bitterly to yourself.

“Sorry.” You muttered as you kept your head down and made room for Jess to go into the bathroom.

“Hey, wait!” Jess called out to you before you could take another step down the hallway. You grit your teeth before plastering on a small smile and turning around.

“Yeah?” You ask.

“Are you okay?” She questioned kindly as she stood in the doorway of the bathroom. The warm lighting simulated the glow of a halo that surrounded her.

Not trusting my voice, I nodded at her in response.

“You sure? I don’t mean to pry-” Then don’t. “But your eyes are a little red.” Jess gestured to her own eyes as an example.

You waved her concern off. “I’m fine, my allergies are acting up right now.”

Jess didn’t look convinced, but she let it go. “Oh, before I forget, I was wondering if you wanted to hang out with me sometime?”

Not really. “Yeah, I would love to.” I gave her a tight smile.  

Jess smiled brightly before gesturing she was heading into the bathroom and closing the door. My smile fell as I sighed deeply. I ran my hand down my face tiredly as I stalked down the dim hallway and back into the living room, where everyone was hanging out. I saw Sam throw his head back in laughter, making me smile, and my heart beat a little faster before my smile faltered.

The image of Jessica's blinding smile when she looked at Sam and his loving gaze on his blonde bombshell of a girlfriend slithered into my mind and started to poison it. So before anyone could spot me, I quickly made my way to the doorway, put on my shoes, and left.

Ever since that night, Jessica managed to worm her way into your life and yours into hers. She managed to get your number and texted you if you wanted to meet up and hang out. At first, you tried to say no to her outright, but Jess managed to break through your defenses, and you found yourself hanging out with her after class. 

You despised the fact that you grew to enjoy her company, but Jess made it hard to hate her, and it seemed that she genuinely liked you and considered you a good friend. You hated when she gave you compliments, whether it was on your quick wit or looks.

You hated the warm feeling that would bloom in your chest, and she made it a point to do it often, making it feel like bullets raining down on your skin every time she did. 

Phantom blood ran down from your imaginary wounds as you responded to her compliments with a tight smile and a 'thank you' being forced from your lips as you tried to swallow the lump at the back of your throat.

She’d confide in you, and you couldn’t help but be drawn to do the same. 

“You know, I was worried that you weren’t going to like me at first,” Jess expressed to you when you were hanging out at her and Sam’s apartment. 

You looked up from the book you were reading. “What do you mean?” You felt your stomach twist and knot up at her admission. 

Jess stopped crocheting the scarf she was planning to give to Sam for Christmas. “I heard so much about you from Sam.” She paused, biting her bottom lip before continuing. “I guess I was just worried that I wouldn’t make a good impression.” 

“Oh.” You were surprised that she had to worry about her impressing you. “If it makes you feel any better I felt the same way when we first met.” You sent her a reassuring smile, but you weren’t sure if it came off genuine, trying to conceal your own inner conflict, but considering how Jess’s eyes brightened and sent a dazzling smile at your admission, it was. 

From then on, the three of you became as close as the three musketeers, hanging out often and sticking by each other’s sides. Sam and Jess never tried to make you feel like a third wheel.

Still, you would catch the loving looks they would send each other or catch them sharing a soft kiss whenever they thought you weren’t paying attention when you guys would have movie nights at their apartment. 

Those nights would be the worst, having Sam and Jess insist that you sleep over at their apartment when it was too late to go back to your dorm that was on campus. You could hear the low groans and high-pitched whines coming from their shared room, trying to be quiet, thinking that you were dead asleep.

So you had to pretend that you were sound asleep and not clutching the blanket that they gave you close to your chest, trying to ignore the sounds spilling out from their room and into your ears. The ugly monster that emerged ever since you met Jess tried to claw its way out from your chest. You had to pretend that you didn’t slip your hand in between your legs and get off at the sound of them, coming at the same time Jess did and imagined that you were either Sam or Jess (sometimes you thought about being in between them). 

You tried distancing yourself from them for your own sanity and salvaging the pieces of your heart that had broken a long time ago. But Jess, she was insistent, and you couldn’t ignore the beacon of light she emitted. You didn’t know if you wanted to be her or be Sam more. 

Sam wasn’t yours, you knew that. Jess had him the second Brady introduced them, and it fucking sucked. Sam only saw you as his best friend, one of the first ones he made when he came to Stanford all of those years ago. The monster that lived inside of you only grew the longer you saw Sam and Jess together. It morphed into something that you could never imagine could grow inside of you. You managed to mask it and push it down, but it always loomed over you like a storm cloud threatening to strike you down at any moment. 

You felt like some higher power was mocking you and rubbing it in your face that Sam and Jess were the perfect couple. Both of them were gorgeous, incredibly smart, empathetic, and kind. They were incredible human beings, and it was practically a match made in heaven, especially the way that they were together. 

But there was always some part of you, more specifically the monster, who wanted them to break up, hoping that Jess was secretly a terrible person so you’d be the person to pick up the pieces for Sam. But your hopes were dashed, and your heart splintered even more, the monster, roaring, screaming, clawing at your throat, trying to escape the confines of your body when Sam asked you to come along to pick out engagement rings. 

[here's my taglist; read rules before sending in an ask]

[sukirichi]

PLEASE STOP COPYING FICS ‼️

I am by no means gatekeeping concepts or tropes. We all know that it’s normal to see the same tropes or AUs be used differently, and that is not plagiarism. However, I recently found a fic that was oddly similar to my old (and discontinued) Gojo x Reader series, Reckless. The CEO! Gojo is nothing new, and neither is an accidental pregnancy trope. The only reason I am concerned is because this Gojo series I found has the exact same themes as Reckless that consists of: a playboy CEO Gojo with a very notorious reputation, a poor reader who is an employee and asset to the company (someone who works closely with Gojo), reader getting knocked up from a one night stand with Gojo, reader with a seemingly dead/absent mother yet still in contact with her father, Gojo with a very traditional family who does not like reader, and Gojo with an ex he struggles to let go of - which are all elements of Reckless.

The first chapter of that Gojo fic is also eerily similar to my first chapter with the same flow of: YN finding out she’s pregnant and her friend being there for her, Gojo saying he’ll take responsibility because ‘they both made the baby’, YN having to move in with Gojo to take care of the baby, and both of them coming to a mutual agreement that their ‘relationship’ will be purely for the baby’s benefit. The flow of events and specific details about the characters’ backgrounds are too similar to mine.

Again, I am not gatekeeping concepts, just as how I’ve had other writers ask me if they could write their own stories or takes based off of the NAOYA’S TROPHY WIFE COLLECTION or the BONTEN HUSBANDS EXCLUSIVE, and I’m fine with that. I’m even happy people are inspired by what I write. But being inspired is completely different from taking someone’s story and posting it as yours. Please trust your own creativity and skills in writing. You can write amazing stories and have people love them without having to steal from others.

It’s sad to say this is not the first time I, and other writers, have been plagiarized. It’s even more upsetting to know that a friend of mine who has also written a Gojo series (that I’m sure you all know and dearly love) experiences the same issues with the same person. The fact that this is happening to many writers out there is disheartening. We work hard and pour a lot of love in the stories we create. None of us are getting paid for this, and we simply want to share our passions with others. So please, let us be kinder with one another and show love and support the right way. If you love a fic, you give feedback and rb/comment + show support to the writer. You don’t steal their ideas and play it off as your own because you liked it.

[serendipnpipity]

“I hereby pledge my sword and service to the Duke of Lancaster.”

inspired by Come Along by @bassband (ottertrashpalace on AO3)

[thetwilightroadtonightfall]

couldn’t bear to witness my own fate

[wrongcaitlyn]

bc the last update apparently caused so much pain, here's a few excerpts from that abandoned dear reader one shot idea! i will clarify what songs/plot points mentioned in these tweets have changed, bc this is not spoiling anything that i'm *actually* planning to write in greatest of luxuries!

mentally ill @hatetheeastcoast

“My broken bones are mending” get it bc will is a doctor

|

replying to @hatetheeastcoast

ur mom @user4570824983085

The last news we have of him is him finishing med school last year, so he’s probably still doing his residency.

|

replying to @user4570824983085

mentally ill @hatetheeastcoast

SO??? HE STILL MENDED NICO’S BROKEN BONES

|

replying to @hatetheeastcoast

will solace fp @nico___AngeL56

pretty sure that one’s a metaphor my dude

GAY @nico___AngeL56

who wants to bet king of my heart is abt jason grace

|

replying to @nico___AngeL56

ur mom @user4570824983085

he’s literally said in interviews and on his acc that he doesn’t like ppl speculating abt his personal life pls stop

|

replying to @user4570824983085

GAY @nico___AngeL56

the song is coming out in like seven hours its fr not that big of a deal

|

replying to @nico___AngeL56

the graces >> @jasee25hsdfljs

coming out lol

#1 don’t blame me stan @swifttt_angels

nine years of back to back albums then disappearing off the face of the fucking earth and NOW THIS @nicodiangelo DO YOU WANT TO SEND ME INTO CARDIAC ARREST??!!!!

[too-young-to-fall-in-love]

Into You - Ariana Grande

[shegoesbyjoy]

the other side of oblivion

ya girl is back at it again with another DE fic ✌️ 4,528 words, pretty heavy angst (with an uplifting conclusion), and features a healthy sprinkling of some of my favourite quotes from the game.

this was written rather obsessively over the course of 2 days, most of which fell in the early hours of the morning because i apparently Do Not Know how to maintain a proper sleep schedule when i'm inspired to write. bit of a different format than the usual as well, which was fun to try it out!

as always, love to hear your thoughts if you read it (tysm for reading regardless 💖), share if you'd like, and hope you enjoy :)

[not-a-real-fan]

Plotting a DCxAsoiaf crossover primarily to feed my Jason Todd obsession loosely inspired by details within the three references below.

My heart just wants to give my oc someone to arch her back and Jason needs someone to get his too. Im playing with the idea of Lazarus pits being gateways between worlds or realities and instead of being pulled out of the pit by Talia Jason is lost in the ruins of Old Valyria. This occurs at the point of my ocs timeline where she just happens to be in Valyria and coincidentally they stumble upon each other while sheltering from remnants of the Doom. There’s some scavenging and many allusions to the Bloodraven and such. Set in Westeros/Essos before the events of the book 266Ac-280Ac ish. I haven’t decided if I want to dive into the original plot or not but GRRM set up a massive world to explore and there’s plenty of story potential outside the primary locations.

Inspired by:

[banapricot]

When Jaskier hears about the elves’ failed revolt against Cintra, he pulls his journal out and starts writing a song about the mighty queen that fought off the treacherous elves. Then he looks at his lute, gifted by Filavandrel himself, and reconsiders.

He isn’t some random bard anymore - his name is widely renowned, his songs sung throughout the continent. He has influence, the kind that made the world forget The Butcher Of Blaviken with a couple of catchy choruses. 

Toss A Coin hadn’t done too much harm, as far as he knows, because the mention of the elves was vague and a little offhand, like it could have been a random group of bandits instead. The rough verses he jotted down just now are neither vague nor offhand. They tell the tale of a battle of far larger scale, one which resulted in the deaths of hundreds and will go down in history. It’s going to be at the front of people’s minds for a while, and the way they think of it will shape the public opinion of elves for decades to come. He can’t afford to be careless about his own depiction. 

Well, Jaskier certainly can, but the elves would be the ones paying the price. 

He rolls the idea around in his head, weighing the potential consequences of his actions for once. The next few days are mostly spent composing at the outskirts of the forest, only returning to the inn to sleep, eat dinner, and talk to other travelers about the attempted uprising. He finishes the song just after learning of the ordered massacre, the brutality erasing any hesitance he may have had, and plays at the tavern that night.

The tone is a mix of triumph and defeat, powerful but underlined with bitterness. The lyrics aren’t too blatant; The elves are framed as brave underdogs that attempted the impossible, Filavandrel as “the leader who rose against the lioness”, deserving of respect despite their failure, but he focuses on Calanthe’s strength and wisdom enough that it shouldn’t be dangerous to play anywhere outside of Cintra. It can’t be received worse than the ballads about Geralt originally had been, right? The audience loves it, so he figures it’s probably fine. 

[allineedtosay]

Listening to All I Need To Hear will always be a special moment for me ❤️

[cigarettesandinevitablebetrayal]

i am mighty intrigued by "Scarlet Welly Boots" 👀

Ah! Scarlet Welly Boots is actually one of my Wayhaven fics. It's a collection of vignettes throughout the life of my Detective Raine Callaghan, examining how his life has changed and weathered several tragedies in the family such as the death of his father and disappearance of his aunt. It also functions as a character relationship analysis between himself and his stepmother, Rebecca Sinclair, a woman with a mysterious job in the government.

You can find chapters 1-6 here, and here is a snippet from chapter 7:

Down at the end of the drive, amidst all the trees and brush, Ciaran can pretend that he's alone. The Sinclair estate crawls with people, all staff that he's yet to learn all the names of. He doesn't know what to make of them, mostly. They scurry around the manor, doing various menial labor that Ciaran feels they don't really need to be doing, and occasionally greeting him or asking after his needs. It's weird. It makes sense to him now how Eoin was so lonely here. The Sinclair estate is on the very edge of Wayhaven - a car ride away from town proper - and filled with people paid to take care of the place. There's always someone wandering around and never anyone to have a real conversation with. It's oddly isolating. It doesn't help that Rebecca has mostly not visited since dragging him out here. Always on some job, or visiting Eoin in hospital down in Manchester where she'd had him transferred. The thought of Eoin makes his stomach twist in on itself, threatening to devour him. It's not fair. It's not fair that Ciaran is here, up and about, while Eoin languishes in a hospital bed. It's not fair that he's preparing for university while his brother remains comatose. It feels wrong. The whole world feels wrong.

[kindled-soul]

NOSTALGIA

As you mature and gain new experiences, improving yourself as you go, your work gets better and better. You learn from the past and use this knowledge to make a better present that paves the way for a better future.

What value, then, do old works have when asked to choose between it and its more current counterparts? 

In an impossible place, at an impossible time, a creator and their creation meet…

Why do people create things?

What drives them?

What benefit is there in creating and sharing?

Is it for themselves? For other people?

To please a superior? To reach a deadline?

How does one transcribe their most intimate feelings into their creations?

What makes them so comfortable to share their vulnerability?

Or does it mean nothing at all? Is it all just flowery words?

There might exist a reality where concepts and ideas are given physical life. They breathe, just like any other human. They have personalities, if you wish to acknowledge the embodiment of a concept as such. They walk, talk, and feel. They laugh, cry, play, fight, rage, despair, yet also forgive, love, and care. They live. They know who their creators are, of course. After all, they are alive because of these humans. However, none of them feel the need to ever meet their creators. No, that’s ridiculous. What purpose is there to meet their creators? They are content to simply live with each other, never once meeting the humans they owe their existence to. It’s not like those humans know about them, anyway.

This is how the oldest of a group of 13 sisters has lived. Formally named as Pentagon, simply called Penny by the others, she is the first of the albums from a Korean boy group called PENTAGON, her namesakes. She has guided the first 3 that came after her, teaching them what she knows and paving the way for them to find their own path. Nowadays, having such a large gap between her and the younger ones, she is content to be on the sidelines and watch the new albums be guided by those that came before.

Penny has never wished for more, never needed for less.

She is satisfied.

If you had the chance to meet your creator, what would you say?

What would you ask?

Would it be hard to believe these questions never crossed her mind before? Not once has she thought about confronting those responsible for her existence. What is there to gain? She exists, she lives, and, for better or worse, there is nothing more to be done about it.

And yet…

Penny walks in an expanse of white. If she were to stand still for a few minutes, it would be easy for her to lose track of what is right-side up. She can’t quite remember how she got here. One minute she was walking around in the mall downtown, the next she blinked and is now walking in this void. Although, she doesn’t feel dead, so it can’t be the afterlife. Did she enter a forbidden place in the mall?  ‘I’ll never hear the end of it from Sunny if this is somehow one of those dreaded Backrooms…’

She doesn’t walk alone, though. Somehow, beside her walks along a man (a real human?) twice her height. He’s dressed very casually, a t-shirt, jeans, and rubber shoes. It’s as if he’s merely taking a stroll in a park. He looks ahead, face neutral, and hums quietly to himself. His hands stay in his pant pockets, only leaving when the man decides to adjust his shirt every now and then.

Their footsteps echo softly around them, filling in the deafening silence of the white space. Neither of them have spoken to each other, only giving each other a glance at the start before quickly looking away and walking forward.

Although Penny only got a quick glimpse of what the man looks like, she knows for sure that the man beside her is one of her creators. Lee Hoetaek, simply known as Hui, the leader of PENTAGON, one of Penny’s writers, walks beside her in the vastness of nothing. This man is one of the people responsible for the birth of all of PENTAGON’s albums except for those made during his enlistment period (although strangely, Fiona doesn’t apply to this). 

Penny still remembers how the boys were like when she first came to be. Ambitious, hopeful, eager to prove themselves.; they were young and filled with dreams. The man beside her now seems so different from the boy of the past. ‘He’s grown so much. 7 years is really such a long time,’ Penny wonders how much the others have also grown.

After a while, Penny pulls on her hoodie’s sleeves. How long have they been walking? Is time even a thing here? Her chest feels a little too tight, hands a little too restless. Will they keep walking aimlessly forever? Is there an end to this white space? She looks around her. There’s no telling how far they’ve walked now, if they have ever left their place of origin at all. Should she say something? What does she even ask?

This could all be just a very vivid dream. Perhaps she already made it home for the night. Everything feels so…real, though, for it to simply be a dream. Then again, if all this is just a dream, what does she have to lose in talking to Hui?

Penny opens her mouth, feeling her voice disappear. She stops and clears her throat, consciously avoiding Hui now stopping and staring down at her.

“How’s…,” her voice cracks and Penny wishes the void spontaneously summons a black hole. Still, she pushes through, “how’s everything? …with everyone?”

She hears rather than sees Hui shifting on his feet. He hums a bit before replying, “..what?”

Penny’s face cringes at their current interaction. Talking with others should come naturally to her. She stands up straighter and faces Hui, actually looking at his face for the first time. He looks even more tired now, but his eyes seem to have not lost their bright, ambitious glow, still so alive after some time. It feels weird, to see a grown man in the place of the hopeful young boy she grew accustomed to. Something squeezes in Penny’s chest. “How’s PENTAGON? How’s…everyone been? It’s been, well, it’s been seven years for me now.”

Penny isn’t too sure how everything works here. Does Hui understand what she is? If this is her own dream, perhaps he does. On the off chance this isn’t, well this would be very hard to explain. He doesn’t seem to be confused about what's going on, though. Maybe he is at least aware that this isn’t the same world he knows of.

Hui stares at her, what he’s looking for she can’t tell. He lets out an embarrassed chuckle and rubs his neck, eyes looking off to the side. He sucks in a breath through his teeth, “It’s been…a lot of things. Wow, seven years? It’s…a long story.”

He didn’t question her about anything she said. Humming, Penny turns back forward and takes a few steps forward. She looks back up at him, “We have time,” head nodding to the path forward.

He looks at her, to the space in front of them, and releases a breath. Shrugging, he starts up his pace again, “I guess we do.” Penny follows along beside him, both of them looking forward as they walk.

And so, Hui talks. Penny makes no move to interrupt him, despite already knowing the group updates from talking to the younger albums. She lets him tell the story from his perspective, as the person who had to live through all the times, even adding about things that happened outside of official PENTAGON business.

Hui talks about many things.

Their debut showcase; Their first concert; Their subsequent comebacks; The group's status as self-producing idols; The rise and success of Shine; Hyojong and Hyuna's situation; Their first comeback without Hyojong; The mess that came after that; PRISM World Tour; Jinho's enlistment stage; The two comebacks without Jinho; Their first win, four years after debut; His own enlistment time; In:vite U, the one comeback without him; Hongseok's enlistment situation; Each member's participation in survival shows; Everyone's individual projects, like Kino's Pose; Dorm life; Status on the younger members; His burden and anxieties as the leader; Universe; Their latest Japanese comeback

The contract renewal period. The younger members’ departure from CUBE.

Penny tenses the most at the last topics. Logically, she knew the boys had a time limit hanging above their heads, but it felt like it was so far into the future all those years ago. A selfish part of her thought that they would always make music together until they physically couldn’t anymore. They were so hopeful and bright-eyed way back when they first debuted. Penny didn’t want any of that to change.

Is she being unreasonable for being the tiniest bit bitter at the younger line for leaving? Maybe. After all, they said they left CUBE, not PENTAGON (though the line they walk is very fragile and dangerous). It hurts to not know how Yanan’s doing, though. Penny can only hope everyone around him treats him well.

She never thought that anyone would actually leave unless forced to by the management, much less the boys who promised each other forever.

But she can’t control their fates. She can only hear about it happening.

“I think…that should be up to speed, except of course all the other individual schedules the members have,” Hui finishes.

They walk in silence once again. Penny allows herself this time to process all Hui told her. Seven years sounds long in theory, but feels so fast. And yet, hearing all of this from Hui, a lot of things really has happened to them. Penny bites her lip and looks down at Hui’s shoes, “...but were you all happy?”

Hui hums, thinking about it for a few seconds. “I know they were. It was hard for everyone, but they all seem happy now.”

“How’ve you been, then?”

“Well, I’ve been ok. I’ll admit there've been some good and bad times, but I wouldn’t trade them for anything in the world. God knows how much I missed them when I was in Boys Planet.”

Penny lifts her gaze to look at Hui’s eyes. He must have sensed her stare as after only a few seconds, he looked down to meet her own gaze. “But are you happy, after everything?” Penny asks.

Hui looks back forward, seemingly lost in thought. After a while, he nods his head, looking back down at Penny, “yes, I am. I don’t think I’ll ever find better brothers to love this deeply.”

Penny nods her head and looks back forward, continuing their walk in silence.

If you had the chance to meet your creator, what would you say?

What would you ask?

Penny never had those thoughts cross her mind before. It was simply impossible and worthless.

But she’s here now, walking with Hui. Even if this is a dream, wouldn’t this be the closest interaction she has with him?

She thinks about what she would ask Hui, something substantial. She almost gives up until a question forces itself in her mind, getting caught in her throat. Her stomach briefly falls. Would this really be worth asking? She desperately tries to find something else to say, but her one question keeps hammering in her heart.

Defeated, Penny quietly sighs and opens her mouth, “...Hui?”

The man lets out a curious hum.

“You…you’re finally allowed to release your own songs, right? Release your own albums and all. So what do you think about the ones you didn’t produce?”

Hui tilts his head to the side, eyebrows furrowed. “Didn’t produce…for PENTAGON, you mean?”

“Yeah, of course, for PENTAGON,” Penny clears her throat. Her nerves start rising up. It feels suffocating. “Like me. Five Senses. Ceremony. You know, the first ones, when that company didn’t allow much freedom for you guys yet. What do you…think about us?”

Hui’s mouth forms an O and he hums again, “I don’t hate you, if that’s your concern. I think you guys are fine.”

‘“Don’t hate” doesn’t necessarily mean “like” either,’ the pit in Penny’s stomach only grew deeper. ‘Isn’t this enough? Wasn’t this what she wanted?’ The dread inside her clings to her heart, behind her eyes, inside her lungs. Penny steps in front of Hui, causing both of them to stop walking. She looks up at him, fists holding the sides of her hoodie, “so then it’s fine if people listen to us?”

Hui looks more lost, not understanding the reasoning for Penny’s questions, “why wouldn’t it be?”

Penny takes a deep breath. “Unis don’t include us in streaming parties, and I get it. It’s more helpful to you if they stream songs produced by you guys. I promise I’m not mad about that. I get it…” Penny’s eyes fall to the side, hands rubbing together.

Hui slightly leans down, trying to catch her eyes, “...but?”

“But I…I wanted to know…what you think. You know, you’ve produced so many things. You probably don’t have the time and care to think about the ones you don’t produce and that’s perfectly fine. It’s fine. I’m fine with it. You’re only human. There’s only so much you can focus on at a time. I just wish- just wanted to know what…we are to you. You know, we’re part of your discography forever but we’re not fully produced by you guys. What are we…what am I to you?”

Do you hate me because you weren’t allowed to produce your own debut album? Do I bring back bad memories of what you had to go through just to debut? How do you see me? Or is this why you never think about me? There’s so much Penny wants to ask, but she holds herself back.

Am I asking for too much? Am I being too selfish? Have I made you sad? I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. If you allowed her, she would go on forever on everything she wants to say to PENTAGON.

What am I to you? What am I supposed to be? What did you want me to be? Why am I so unsure if I matter to you? Where are these questions coming from? She never had these thoughts cross her mind. After all, she is satisfied being in the background. She is content to watch everyone grow and mature.

She is happy.

She is…happy?

Would someone who is happy have so many ways to question their worth?

Penny has no doubt in her heart that she loves all the boys very dearly. She and the group technically were born together. She is very excited and delighted to see how each and every one of them has grown. But standing in front of Hui, Penny wonders if they ever saw her with even at least the tiniest bit of love they can spare.

“I just,” Penny continues, eyes dropping down to her shoes. “I wanted to know…if you love us…,” Can she be selfish, just this once? “...if you love me, just like you do for all the others.” Her voice drops down to almost a whisper, losing all the previous strength and courage Penny managed to muster.

Penny stands there waiting for Hui’s response, the silence around them rings so loud in her ears, like a thousand glasses crashing against each other. She can only focus on her shoes, refusing to move a single muscle. Why isn’t he replying? Why can’t he just say a yes or no? Why am I even here? Why is this happening? This is all so stupid. Why? Why me? Why? Why? Why?Why?Why?Why?

Just as Penny starts to spiral, Hui slowly kneels down in front of her. She startles, looking at him as he reaches to be on the same eye-level as her. His smile is small, gentle, eyes so warm Penny didn’t realize how cold she felt until she physically melted just by looking at him. He holds out his hands to her, and Penny slowly puts hers on them, her own head tilting at Hui. He holds onto her tightly and smiles wider.

How can one person be so filled with love it shows itself even through the simplest action of smiling? Just by looking into their eyes?

How can someone be so willing to surrender their heart for all to see? To open their heart for anything? To still have space to love even more?

Penny doesn’t know the answer to these questions. She doesn’t think she’ll be able to experience doing something like that herself. But she stares at Hui smiling at her, and she thinks that maybe someone like that can actually exist somewhere.

Hui stares at her a little bit longer, a nostalgic feeling finding its way into his gaze, and he opens his mouth, “Just because I didn’t make you doesn’t mean I don’t love you just the same.”

Penny’s breath gets caught in her throat. She prepared herself for rejection, for indifference, for maybe a very guilty expression. She was prepared to get her heart quietly broken. She never expected Hui to look at her with so much love, like a parent would to their child.

He pushes on, “It might seem so different now, with us being all self-produced now, but that will never mean I won’t be grateful for what you are in our lives. I look at you and I see how far we’ve grown, how far we’ve reached. But more than that, you also carry so much memories. You are our debut. There’s so much worth and weight in what you are.”

“But I’m stuck like this,” Penny whispers back. “I’ll never truly be one of yours.”

“And maybe you don’t have to be. Maybe the time just wasn’t right. We were too new to have a purely self-produced album. We were too young ourselves. But that doesn’t mean the memories and joy we felt during your time weren’t real, weren’t ours to cherish.”

Hui lifts his right hand and places them on Penny’s cheek. He uses his thumb to wipe away any tears he can catch, his smile somehow melting even more. When did she start crying? When did breathing become difficult? Penny bites on her lip, silencing any sounds trying to escape.

“Besides,” Hui softens his voice. “I’m sure there are plenty of Unis out there who are Universes today because of you. You gave us a chance to be the idols we are today. So please, don’t think that I don’t love you. And even if I didn’t, I’m sure there is someone somewhere out there who will fill in that love for me, even if you can’t meet them.”

Penny tries to get her breathing under control. There’s too much emotion to feel, emotions so different from what she expected to receive. After a few minutes, she sucks in a breath through her teeth and whispers back, “You guys have grown so much.”

Hui carefully pulls her into a hug, and whispers in her ear, “I’ll forever be grateful you paved the way for this to happen.”

A sincere person until the very end, her beloved leader. She throws her arms around him and hugs him back. If she’s hugging him tighter than he does to her, he doesn’t comment on it and hugs her back just as tightly.

Eventually, Penny pulls back and looks at him, staring at her with so much love and gratitude. It feels so warm. Penny finds the strength to smile back, “It’s been an honor to be a part of your journey.”

Hui stands back up and Penny goes to continue walking forward. She notices the missing footsteps beside her and looks back to see Hui going in the opposite direction. Oh, is their time up? Penny cups her hands around her mouth and calls out, “HUI!”

The man turns back at her, tilting his head with a smile. Penny waves at him with both arms, like one would do when watching a cruise ship drive away. “Good luck,” she shouts to him with a smile, “with everything.”

Hui smiles back, wider than the others she’s seen today, and raises one hand to wave back. After that, he turns back and continues walking.

Penny watches his back for a few more moments. Eventually, she turns back around and continues her own way forward.

Just like all those years ago, Penny can only watch and let him go his own separate way.

This time, though, it didn’t feel heavy to let go.

Soon, Penny hears voices coming from ahead.

“Sunny, get back here! I know you did it!”

“You can’t prove anything, dear sister!”

“Lor, stop watching and help me with this.”

“I don’t know, man. You seem to be doing just fine on your own.”

“Why was I assigned babysitting duty…”

Penny can’t help the grin that crosses her face hearing the voices of her other sisters. She runs the rest of the way, leaving behind nothing more than what would be thought of as a dream.

Will newer works always be more relevant than works of the past?

Can the same artist value their current work more than the previous?

Or maybe one can learn to love their past creations for what they were for the time.

Maybe there’s no need to compare the worth of one project to another.

Maybe one can simply give their love to anything and everything they have made.

Wouldn’t that make life even just a little bit brighter?

~~ End thoughts ~~

So this specific idea was inspired by multiple songs:

You Are - PENTAGON

The Greatest Wall - HUI & KINO

What Was I Made For? - Billie Eilish

With Universe - PENTAGON

for you - HUI

Me, while writing this: *shaking* “Would Hui even say that??”

Like of course I don’t know him personally so everything this Hui has "said" is all a guessing game

Doesn't stop the anxiety ૮₍˶Ó﹏Ò ⑅₎ა

I’ll be honest, I had no intention of actually fully writing out this idea because it sounds too…crazy and stupid. Like, why would anyone write about this?

But then October 9 came, then “With Universe” was released. I think I just needed to cope really badly back then.

It’s stupid. I've only known these guys for like 9 months and yet I’m so attached to them. So many things happened just as I was getting to know them and it's all been very confusing emotionally.

So this was basically my coping mechanism of a fic.

Anyway, hope you enjoyed reading this. Or cringed. Either works honestly.

[holdinbacksecrets]

manifesting writing a long namjoon fic 🙇‍♀️🕯️🕯️

[dreamofbecoming]

listening to of monsters and men and thinking about steve and robin moving to california after everything is done and dusted and starting a folk duo that accidentally takes off

thinking about the years they spend sharing shoebox apartments and working shitty retail gigs together and sleeping in the same bed not only because they can’t afford two rooms but because neither of them can sleep alone and no one else can stomach the nightmares, and one day they’re fucking around and robin’s got her trumpet out and they end up writing a song about feeling like your head is a haunted house and you’re the ghost, and learning to hold hands and walk the creaky stairs together, and they didn’t expect anything from writing it except to maybe exorcise some of their demons but someone convinces them to try it out at an open mic and maybe there’s an agent or a scout or something there and boom suddenly little talks is all over the radio

and so they keep writing and robin writes from finner and steve writes king and lionheart and they write sloom and mountain sound and slow and steady together and suddenly they have a whole record written and this isn’t where they expected to end up but they’re together and that’s always been enough

(also steve writes your bones about spring break ‘86 and it’s up to you if eddie survived and hears it and is like OwO or if he died and it’s a whole big angsty thing)

[deus-ex-mona]

it started as a simple song-inspired fic, how did it end up like this