#there's a song that inspired this entire fic

[stardustandash]

How many fics have you worked on since January?

Worked on about 55? I think? Its hard to calculate as I posted whumptober and febuwhump as individual stories but they exist in one doc each on my computer. I've worked on 6 fics that are either as of yet unposted, unprinted in a zine, or just lost unfinished limbo (I need to work on my merrin-focused post nur fic omg)

2. What’s something new that you tried in a fic this year?

I guess I've tried to play more with present vs past tense, and finishing multichapter fics before posting. Did try out a time loop for the first time during whumptober and had fun with that!

3. What piece of media inspired you the most? (This can be the fandom you wrote the most for, the one that spawned the most ideas, the one you thought about the most, etc.)

I feel like Star Wars is the pretty obvious answer, though right at the end of the year here comes Dragon Age with a steel chair after 4 years of not really being involved in the fandom

4. How many fandoms did you write for this year?

Seven, I think! Jedi Fallen Order & Survivor, The Bad Batch, Dragon Age Inquisition & Veilguard, FFXV, FFXVI, Horizon Zero Dawn & Forbidden West, and Twisted Wonderland

5. What ships captured your heart?

As a gen writer its rare for ships to catch me, but thank you Veilguard for giving me Rook x Harding, and M!Rook x Emmrich. (Not a fan of F!Rook x Emmrich sorry yall)

7. What characters captured your heart?

As always Cal remains number 1 in my heart. I love him so much, along with the whole Mantis crew <3 For new this year, I am bewitched body and soul by the Veilguard crew. The writers were cooking with all of them, they're all amazing!!

8. Did you write for any new fandoms or ships this year?

...Does Veilguard count lol? For new fandoms I wrote one FFXVI fic early in the year.

I've got two fics for Rook x Harding and one wip for Rook x Emmrich as new ships!

9. What fic meant the most to you to write?

That's a hard question!! I think I poured a lot of my own personal emotional anguish into a lot of the fics I wrote this year. It's been a rough year for many reasons, and writing out all that angsty hurt/comfort helped a lot

10. What fic made you feel the happiest to work on?

I think finishing 'what makes a family' was honestly one of the best feelings ever! And the fact that I still get comments on it from time to time about people binge-reading it.

11. What fic was the most satisfying to finish writing?

I guess I could go with the above, but actually completing whumptober was pretty satisfying.

12. What fic was the most difficult to write?

'i do not love the bright sword for its sharpness' is at the top of this pile. i think about it constantly but actually writing it is proving super difficult, and it remains unfinished...

13. What fic was the easiest to write?

The one for the Pabu Days zine!! I wrote the first draft in just over an hour, and it was about 1k too many words lol

14. What were your shortest and longest fics posted this year?

of the ones written entirely in this year, 'take a breath before the plunge' wins with its 11k words. If we count just completed this year, 'what makes a family' wins at just shy of 70k

The shortest was one of the whumptober fics, 'where flesh and metal meet'

15. What were your go-to writing songs?

The Horizon games' soundtracks! Less of a song list, but there's too many to put in here.

What was the hardest fic to title?

...all of them. Titling things is the hardest part of writing fics

16. What's your favorite title of the year?

Love and Blood Both Run Red, or maybe Cold But For Your Company

17. Share your favorite opening line

In some way, Tech thinks, it is poetic to die for his family.

From here, at the bottom

18. Share your favorite ending line

He turned, and came face to face with a skull staring back at him. There were holes through the skull, and though everything had been decayed by time, Cal could still see that the skeleton wore Jedi robes.

From then there was nothing

19. Share your favorite piece of dialogue

ooh i don't know! If its humorous then assume its one of my favourites

20. Share your funniest line

see above

21. What's something that surprised you while you were working on a fic? Did it change the story?

I think being able to slip back into old fandoms and characters for whumptober was a surprise. it didn't change the story but it was surprisingly quick to get back into things i hadn't touched in years

22. What writing programs did you use? Did you write by hand?

I use microsoft word for all my fics. which isn't great for longform fic and probably why i don't write too much of it

23. If you had to choose one, what was THE most satisfying writing moment of your year?

Again, actually managing to complete whumptober felt really good!! I've never managed to finish a writing challenge like that so it was a really proud moment

24. Did you do anything special to celebrate finishing a fic?

I don't think I've ever done anything?? Though I am thinking about starting a lil scrapbook of comments or smth like that

25. How did you recharge between fics?

what is this recharge you speak of? I am either possessed by ideas that demand attention or left in a drought of creativity

26. Did you create fanworks other than fic?

I do playlists for myself sometimes. I have ones for Cal, Crosshair, and Omega right now. I constantly wish i had the patience to improve my art skills to do fanart

27. How many events did you take part in? (bangs, exchanges, ship weeks, zines, prompt memes, they all count!)

4 if you count febuwhump and whumptober. I'm in a Bad Batch zine that's in preorders right now - Pabu Days, and participating in a fic/art exchange for new years for Twisted Wonderland

28. If this were an awards show, who would you thank?

firstly I'd like to thank my cat for being the one to hear me talk out plot points and details. I'd also like to thank @pennflinn and @breakfastteatime for being both supportive of all my j:fo fics as well as being inspirations themselves in that fandom! And the whole j:fo fandom at large for being awesome and supportive of each other's works. And I need to mention @fanfoolishness for joining me in not one, not two, but THREE! fandoms here!! As well, shoutout to @shadowcrow for yelling on my rook x harding fics! it's a small corner of the fandom but at least it's got you there!

29. What's left on your to-do list for 2024?

Finish this fic for the new years exchange, and get another chapter of Blood and Love Both Run Red up! Though it may only be one of those that happens...

30. What would you like to write next year?

I wanna finish bright sword and get that post nur Merrin fic postable! And since I'm currently consumed by Veilguard I wanna write more of that next year too!

A slightly revised version of last year's questions! Two ways to play: Reblog and have your followers send you numbers, or answer the whole list!

How many fics have you worked on since January?

What’s something new that you tried in a fic this year?

What piece of media inspired you the most? (This can be the fandom you wrote the most for, the one that spawned the most ideas, the one you thought about the most, etc.)

How many fandoms did you write for this year?

What ships captured your heart?

What characters captured your heart?

Did you write for any new fandoms or ships this year?

What fic meant the most to you to write?

What fic made you feel the happiest to work on?

What fic was the most satisfying to finish writing?

What fic was the most difficult to write?

What fic was the easiest to write?

What were your shortest and longest fics posted this year?

What were your go-to writing songs?

What was the hardest fic to title?

What's your favorite title of the year?

Share your favorite opening line

Share your favorite ending line

Share your favorite piece of dialogue

Share your funniest line

What's something that surprised you while you were working on a fic? Did it change the story?

What writing programs did you use? Did you write by hand?

If you had to choose one, what was THE most satisfying writing moment of your year?

Did you do anything special to celebrate finishing a fic?

How did you recharge between fics?

Did you create fanworks other than fic?

How many events did you take part in? (bangs, exchanges, ship weeks, zines, prompt memes, they all count!)

If this were an awards show, who would you thank?

What's left on your to-do list for 2024?

What would you like to write next year?

[weemssapphic]

Split in half

Larissa Weems x f!reader

This is a part two to We're not who we used to be set a few months after that fic, from Larissa's POV. It's just as angsty as part one, maybe even worse. It's inspired by the song Stick Season by Noah Kahan. Enjoy 😅

Words: ~1.5k | ao3 link in title

And I love Vermont, but it's the season of the sticks And I saw your mom, she forgot that I existed And it's half my fault, but I just like to play the victim I'll drink alcohol 'til my friends come home for Christmas And I'll dream each night of some version of you That I might not have, but I did not lose Now you're tire tracks and one pair of shoes And I'm split in half, but that'll have to do

-

“Ow - fuck!”

It takes Larissa’s eyes a moment to adjust to the darkness blanketing her quarters. She steadies herself against the little table by the door and squints at the floor as she searches for whatever she’s just tripped over that caused her to ram her hip into the corner of said table. 

Now she remembers - she’d changed her mind about her heels that morning and left the initial pair next to the door. She sighs and kicks off the heels she’s wearing now, leaving them lying haphazardly next to the others.

She walks towards the kitchen, not bothering to turn on the light now that her eyes have adjusted to the darkness. Pain blooms in her hip, growing sharper with each step - she can already feel the deep purple bruise forming across her hip bone. She opens the fridge and stoops down, the bright, fluorescent glow shooting straight through her eyeballs into her already throbbing skull, making her eyes water. The fridge is nearly empty and Larissa groans in frustration as she closes its door and blindly reaches for the cabinets above the stove instead, running her fingertips across the smooth, familiar wood as her eyes adjust again.

Her fingers bump into the little brass handle and she opens the cabinet, pulling out the first bottle she finds. Whiskey. She opens another cabinet and takes out a crystal tumbler, then pads across her quarters to her little balcony, clutching both bottle and tumbler to her chest. 

A chill seeps through her stockings and straight into her bones as she steps outside, and she grits her teeth as she lowers herself onto the oversized pillow she’d taken out here when she first started spending her evenings after work out on the balcony. 

It’s a lot colder tonight than it was those weeks - or has it been months? - ago. Fall is as good as over, the trees barren of their gorgeous red and orange foliage, but winter hasn’t fully started yet either, the first snowfall having yet to make an appearance.

Larissa pours some of the amber liquid into the tumbler, raising it to her lips and tossing it back in one go. It burns her throat and the swift motion smudges her lipstick, not that that matters. It warms her a little from the inside, so she pours herself another.

She supposes she could do something productive, or at least try to distract herself, but there’s not really a point - she can’t read books or watch films or even knit without spending the entire time trying to reign in her wandering thoughts. Even her work is suffering as a result.

She should’ve seen it coming, really, you leaving her. After all, she thinks bitterly, as her thoughts once again hone in on you, she had been rather absent in your marriage. Even when you told her you were moving out, that you were done trying, she could hardly wrap her head around it. Hardly believe it was actually over.

On the day you’d left, she’d woken up to a horribly loud rummaging in the closet. It was a Sunday, and she remembered the pang of irritation that mixed with her confusion, the frustration that you’d woken her early on the only day she ever slept in. She’d remembered readying herself to berate you, tasting the words on her sharp tongue as she’d pushed herself up onto her elbow - the words dying just as quickly as they’d come when her sleep-filled eyes were met with the sight of your half-full suitcase (the big one, the one you used for longer vacations) on the floor in front of the walk-in. 

Between stuffing everything from your underwear to a few framed photos into the suitcase, you’d explained your reasoning rather coolly for someone who usually wore her heart on her sleeve and cried at even comedy films - it had unsettled Larissa to see you so casual about leaving. Perhaps it was due to this that she didn’t say much. She didn’t say any of the things she should have said, any of the things you might’ve hoped she’d say or the things she wishes today that she had said. She’d watched you pack, nodding along to whatever you were saying about divorce lawyers - divorce? - and robotically seeing you to the door. 

Your tires had screeched a bit on your way down the driveway - the sound rings in Larissa’s ear as she tosses back another tumbler of whiskey.

Everything had passed so quickly after that, weeks and months blurring together. She’d signed the divorce papers in what she can, in hindsight, only describe as a fugue-like state, not realizing until much later the full consequences of her actions. And ‘much later’, apparently, translated into ‘too late’.

So I thought that if I piled something good on all my bad That I could cancel out the darkness I inherited from dad No, I am no longer funny, 'cause I miss the way you laugh You once called me forever, now you still can't call me back

One tumbler turns into two turns into three, and then she’s abandoned the glass in favor of drinking straight from the bottle. She pulls her phone out of the pocket of her blazer, scrolling to your contact as if on autopilot and staring at it as if it would suddenly come to life.

You’d forgotten an old pair of sneakers at the back of the closet. She’d told you when you’d stopped by with the divorce papers, and you’d told her to just throw them out.

Just throw them out.

It should be so easy. They’re dirty and they stink and the sole is peeling off on the right one. Every time Larissa sees them, she picks them up and wills herself to walk straight to the trash bin. She picks them up - then puts them right back, next to her own rarely-used running shoes.

Larissa clicks ‘call’. She lifts the phone to her ear as she waits, taking another gulp of whiskey. It doesn’t burn anymore.

Her throat gets tighter with every ring, a thin film of tears beginning to blur her eyes. After a few long minutes, the call goes to your voicemail - which is full - and Larissa’s tears spill over, clinging to her lashes before racing each other down her cheeks.

“Pick up, goddamnit!” she growls, her voice hoarse and wet. She tosses her phone angrily onto the floor beside her, not caring if it gets scratched.

There was a time when you’d have picked up the phone in the middle of a packed movie theater if it was her calling - now she hasn’t been able to get ahold of you since the divorce was finalized. It’s at least half her fault, she supposes, but she’s still angry at you for ignoring her. For leaving her. Even if she seemed intent on driving you away.

It’s getting late. Larissa knows this not because she’s checked the time, or because the moon is already high in the night sky, but because time always manages to slip away from her when she’s sitting out here, and because her ass is numb and her knees hurt from sitting in one position for so long. 

She pushes herself up, a bit shaky on her feet, nearly stumbling then steadying herself against the railing of the balcony. She bends, stumbling again, grabs the whiskey bottle by the neck, fumbles with the tumbler, then makes her way into her quarters, leaving her phone on the floor and the balcony door open behind her. It’s been so drafty in her quarters lately.

The bottle of whiskey is placed on the counter and, as Larissa goes to place the tumbler into the sink to be washed, it slips and shatters, shards of glass flying everywhere. She feels the warmth of her own blood on her finger before she feels the sting of the cut.

“Fuck!” 

A little bit of moonlight is streaming into the kitchen, and Larissa raises her finger into the light and stares at it, watching blood form a large bead on her fingertip, then slowly trickle down towards her hand. She sucks her finger between her lips, trying to stem the flow of blood. The metallic taste mixes with the whiskey on her tongue and, as she stands there in the darkness of her kitchen, she suddenly feels tired, so unbelievably tired.

She wants to call you again. She wants to tell your full voicemail box to go fuck itself, all she wants is to hear your voice. It’s all she wants yet it’s all she can’t do. 

-

And I'm split in half, but that'll have to do

x

Taglist: @alexusonfire @pro-weems-places @kimiinou @imprincipalweemspet @h-doodles @bychrissi @giogwensversion @gela123 @friskyfisher @justcallmelittleone @scream-queenlover @a-queen-and-her-throne @anne-lister @winterfireblond @imgayforwoman69  @fictionalized-lesbian @aemilia19 @milfsloverblog @missdowling @billiedeansbitch @http-sam @saltrage @renravens @opheliauniverse @niceminipotato @thevillagegay @barbarasstar @lilfartbox1 @dovesintherain @fallenbutch @lunala-rose23 @ahauandthesun @thenazwife @m-0-mmy-l-0-ver33 @thesamesweetie @theonefairygodmother @lvinhs @rainbow-hedgehog @daydream-cement @im-a-carnivorous-plant @milfomaniac @ilovetlcc @lesbiahonest24 @wastdstime @gwens0girl @larissa-weems-chokehold @makemyworldworthliving @spacetoaim22 @m1lflov3rrr @nightingalespen @jadewolf22 @autumn-leaves-chasing-breeze @gwens-wife

[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.

[thetwilightroadtonightfall]

couldn’t bear to witness my own fate

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

Into You - Ariana Grande

[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??!!!!

[the-kipsabian]

42!

[seventh-district]

Well, I grew up wishin' I could close off the way my dad did 'Cause that man never felt a damn thing he didn't wanna feel But I've burned too many miles tryna ride out all the sadness But you can't outdrive pain, someday it's gonna take the wheel Can't be alone but don't wanna get close to anybody Don't wanna bare teeth but don't wanna look weak, it's a tough spot But I'm afraid you'll walk away when the tears start runnin' But I hope not 'Cause cowboys cry too

thinking about Sam...

[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. 

[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