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jeonstudios · 2 months ago

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dextrocardia | 15

Dextrocardia. Originally a medical term, but also a way to describe someone who's got their heart in the right place.

"She's been moved to another operation to help out. This pairing is necessary because you'll be undercover as spouses. I know you two can be professional about this."

"What?!" It's Jeongguk's upset voice that sounds, and for once, you share his displeased opinion.

Spouses.

pairing: cop!jk x f detective!reader

genre: undercover cops, fake marriage, e2l au, angst, fluff, (smut?)

word count: 6k

warnings: self-esteem issues, feelings

rating: NC-17 – Adults Only

masterlist

part 15/?

The ride home lasts ten minutes, during which you’re holding back tears the entire time. It’s only when you’re finally inside your own apartment that you let them fall. It doesn’t help to see Fenrir’s collar and leash hanging next to your jackets, or his bowls still on the floor. In a way, it feels like you’re back at square one.

You know you promised Jeongguk you’d call Jihyo, but you don’t, knowing she’d disapprove of you being on your own probably just as much as he does. Still, realizing that sooner or later you’ll need to either get back to work or find another job, you send her a text, asking if there’s any case for you to work on remotely until you’re ready to return fully.

The first night back is emotional, but you’re relieved to finally be home.

“I don’t think it matters how hard you throw it,” a worried Jimin watches Jeongguk hurl a dart at the dartboard. “Actually, I’m pretty sure you’d see better results if you didn’t throw it like an Olympic javelin thrower.”

Jeongguk doesn’t reply, just rolls his eyes and grabs another dart. The music around them is surprisingly quiet, drowned out by the chatter of the bustling bar.

“So, care to tell me what’s up with him?” Jin asks, nodding toward Jeongguk as he sets the three pints of beer on the table and takes a seat.

“His little lady left him,” Jimin explains sadly, sliding one of the pints closer to Jeongguk.

“Oh. Why? You weren’t a couple, were you?” Jin asks.

“No,” is all Jeongguk mutters before he heads over to the dartboard to retrieve the darts. He has three of them, but only one actually hit the board; the other two embarrassingly stuck to the wood-paneled wall. From the marks already there, he’s at least not the first terrible dart-thrower. When he returns to the table with all the darts in hand, he pushes his designated pint back toward Jimin. “Can’t drink.”

Jimin meets his eyes, looking defeated. Jeongguk already explained that when you’re not with him, he can’t risk being drunk in case you need him. If you called, saying Hoseong had found you, Jeongguk would not hesitate to get on his bike or in his car, no matter how much he’s had to drink, and driving under the influence is something he’d rather avoid.

“She’s scared of me,” he repeats what you told him a few nights ago. Hearing the words from his own mouth stings less, but his heart still aches and his blood boils. He throws another dart but misses the board, and it sticks to the wall a few inches left of it.

“Wait. What do you mean?” Jin asks, confusion written all over his face.

“Yeah. Although I’m pretty sure she hasn’t ruled out that I’ll just snap one day and kill her, she’s mostly scared that I’ll want to hurt her emotionally.”

“But why would you? I thought you two were doing alright? I mean, she’s been living with you for, what, the last month?”

“We were. Or at least, I thought so. She kissed me, and we were… getting closer, but I guess it freaked her out.”

“Why?”

“Remember how I told you I was horrible to her before I found out what Hoseong had done? Yeah, the things I said… they were inhumane.”

“What did you say?”

Jeongguk throws another dart, swinging his arm and using way too much force. “What haven’t I said? I’ve told her that she’s too ugly for me to look at, that she needs to stop eating, that she’s incompetent, and that she basically deserved being trafficked if only the traffickers would take her. That’s the short version.”

“Fuck, man,” Jimin breathes in disbelief. Jeongguk told him what happened ages ago but not explicitly what he’d said to you.

“Yeah. I just… I wanted her to hurt, to pay for what I thought she’d done, but she never seemed affected. I’d call her something, and she’d flip me off or glare at me or call me an idiot or whatever, but she never… I thought she didn’t care, so the next time I saw her, I said something worse. But I wouldn’t have, obviously, if I… If I… knew.”

Jin puts his glass down, wiping the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand. “I mean, I haven’t met her, but isn’t she, like, objectively very pretty? From what I’ve heard?”

“Yeah, she is,” Jeongguk sighs. “Which is also why I didn’t think she’d take it to heart, ‘cause what I said isn’t true in the slightest.”

“But can’t she see how pathetically in love you are? No offense,” Jimin asks. “I mean, I take it you’ve apologized and probably told her what you really think? She doesn’t trust that?”

Jeongguk falls silent as he retrieves the darts again, shamefully avoiding eye contact with his friends on his way back.

“Wait, you haven’t apologized?”

“Of course I have,” he argues before lowering his voice. “I just kinda… fucked it up.”

He feels the confused stares of his friends. “I’ve apologized many, many times for how I treated her, and she seemed to kinda accept that? But I never explicitly apologized for the things I said. Nor have I told her how I actually feel about her.”

He sees how Jimin is about to tell him exactly what he thinks about that, but Jeongguk cuts him off before he's able to.

“After I somehow convinced her to stay with me, I thought carefully about how to act around her. I thought that it would be better to apologize for… everything. I thought ‘I’m sorry for how I treated you’ would cover it. And I didn’t want her to second-guess my intentions, so I didn’t actually tell her what I really think.”

“You mean ‘second-guess your intentions’ as in…” Jin trails off.

“As in think that I chose to help her because I was interested in her. I didn’t want her to think I had an agenda or to feel like she’d owe me in any way. She hasn’t had the best experience with men—men in law enforcement, especially—so I wanted to be as… safe, I guess, as possible for her. I didn’t realize she was still thinking about it, taking what I said as the truth.”

Jimin sighs. “So she thinks you might still consider her the ugliest creature to walk the earth is what you’re saying?”

“Apparently. I tried to convince her before she left, but of course, it didn’t seem genuine. I don’t blame her.”

A bit more optimistic, Jin tilts his head. “You don’t think she’ll believe you if you just tell her exactly what you just told us?”

But Jeongguk lets his shoulders slump. “I don’t think so. She told me I scare her because I have a desire to hurt anyone who wrongs me, and she doesn’t feel like she can read me. And I believe her. I wanted to hurt her, and during the mission, I had to pretend to love her when I really didn’t, so I kept switching up on her.”

The atmosphere shifts from frustrated and sad to just sad as Jeongguk runs his thumb over the dart in his hand.

“I lose either way. If I tell her that what I said back then was true, then I think she’s ugly, and I wanted to hurt her by saying so. But if I say that I lied and that she’s really the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, then I still wanted to hurt her. And after everything she’s been through, she doesn’t want a man with a desire to hurt.”

“But like you said, you didn’t mean to hurt her to that point, more so to be taken down a notch? And it got out of hand?”

“Is there a difference? I’ve hurt her, probably beyond what is salvageable, and she thinks I’m still capable of that; that if we disagree on something, I might turn on her.”

With a deep breath, you pull open the doors to the police station one chilly Monday morning, the sky outside gray and heavy with the threat of snow. It’s been three weeks since you came home, and though Jihyo put up a fight, she eventually agreed to let you stay.

Since months have passed, and you still haven’t caught Hoseong and his crew, you figure you might as well try to get back to normal. So you started planning your return to work, but then Christmas came, which you spent at your mother’s, two hours away.

Jihyo also agreed not to tell Jeongguk about your living arrangements, per your desperate request. You’d rather not deal with his savior complex, and you know he’d park outside your building if he thought you were in danger. You scoff to yourself, but almost immediately, guilt settles in. A savior complex isn’t why he’s worried about you; he’s just a good guy. You know that. Still, you don’t want him to know.

Walking through the station at nine a.m.—on your way to Jihyo’s office to discuss your new assignment—you almost hold your breath. Some officers glance your way, still not used to seeing you back, and maybe even less used to seeing you without Jeongguk. Or maybe they know you had a “falling out?” Would he tell anyone here? Jihyo, maybe, if she didn’t already know, but you’re not sure if he’d tell anyone else; his closest friends besides Jimin don’t work at this station anyway. And Jimin probably wouldn’t gossip about you either.

Jihyo is waiting for you when you reach the door to her office, calling out for you to come in as soon as you knock.

“Hey,” you say, closing the door behind you.

“Hey. Want a donut?” she asks from behind her desk, happily pointing to the open box, a half-eaten donut in hand and what you assume is part of the other half in her mouth.

“Nah, I’m good,” you grin, sitting down in front of her.

“Alright,” she says, swallowing and wiping some crumbs from her lap. “So, I’ve been looking over your request and proposed methods.”

You watch as she pulls her laptop in front of her, setting the donut down on the table, and starts scrolling.

“And I’d say it’s very reasonable if we’re okay with the risks.”

“I don’t think there are any risks at all, actually,” you argue softly. “We parted on good terms.”

“Yeah, I know. And they played a part in your survival. But I’m still gonna need to have a risk analysis performed. Who would you want to go with you? I could assign Sana, I think, if you want her? She’s on an assignment right now, but we’re hoping they’ll be done by Wednesday, give or take.”

“Yeah, that would be great. Thanks.”

“No problem. I’m glad to see you back and wanting to work on what matters to you. I know the chief—ex-chief—did his best to be a pain in the ass for you.”

“Yeah. I can’t wait until the investigation’s finished, honestly. He deserves to rot in jail.”

“Agreed. I haven’t heard anything else from the higher-ups, so they’re probably still elbow-deep in it. Anyway, if you have any details you’d like to show me, I’m all ears.”

Your smile grows, and you reach into your bag for your laptop and notebook.

“Thanks,” you smile, standing up an hour later with your bag in hand. But before you exit her office and close the door behind you, you glance back at Jihyo. “By the way, I’m so glad you got the job. You deserve it more than anyone.”

“Thank you. It’s been… rough, these last couple of months. A lot to do and a lot of stress and pressure, but I think it’s worth it. And I’ve had help, making it easier for me to adjust.”

You know who she’s talking about; you don’t need to hear a name.

“He asks about you, you know.”

Holding onto the door, you look away. You’re well aware of what Jeongguk has done for not only you but also Jihyo, Sana, and the entire police station.

“Let me avoid him for at least another month. Then you can tell him whatever you want, and I can try to be a better colleague. But now? I can’t… I don’t…”

Jihyo looks at you, seeing the pain well up in your eyes when you think about the reason you left his house that night. If you can just have another month to force the warm, yet invalid and hurt feelings you have for him back into the box they broke out of when you first kissed him, you can try to be more civil with him. Hell, you’ll even work with him if he can keep it professional as well.

Jihyo nods, sad but understanding. After all, she had a front-row seat when he used to tear you bloody.

For another hour, you sit at an empty desk, excitedly looking over the preliminary plan that starts on Thursday. You can’t believe it’s about to actually become reality.

Step one:

Preliminary timeframe: Thursday.

Possible obstacles and risks: Low risk of hostility or danger.

Safety measures: Two detectives, civilian clothes, civilian car, concealed firearms.

Step two: Plan A or B, depending on what you find, if anything.

With your notes full of prepared questions, you rise from the chair, deeming it time to leave the station for the day. As you stand there, organizing your papers, movement catches your eye, and you look up just in time to see Jimin enter the big room. And of course, who does he have in tow if not Jeon Jeongguk, dressed, like so often, in the academy's navy crewneck and uniform pants?

Meeting both of their eyes, you’re saved by your phone’s ringtone, a sound that seems to stop even Jeongguk from taking an impulsive step toward you.

Fishing the phone out from the pocket of your black pants, you swipe your finger across the screen to answer. It’s Sana.

“Hello?”

“Hey! So I talked to Jihyo, and she said that your request got pre-approved? I’m a little busy at the moment and for the next few days, but send me anything you’d like me to look over in preparation.”

“So you’re up for it?” you ask, a wide smile forming. Out of the corner of your eye, you watch Jeongguk reluctantly follow Jimin further into the room, where they start talking to two other officers with their backs turned. If you were more of a hopeless romantic instead of a realistic one, you’d describe the glances he sends your way as… yearning. To avoid his gaze, you focus on the notebook lying on the desk.

“Of course! You and me, just like old times.”

“Old times? It’s only been like a year since we worked on a case together.”

“You know what I mean. Anyway, I gotta go. See you.”

“I’ll send the info tonight. See you.”

Discreetly, you end the call and gather your things, quickly but quietly heading for the exit. But in the corridor, you hear a call of your name. You shut your eyes for a second before turning around. It hurts to see him, to walk these halls, avoiding him just like you used to. Only this time, it’s a different kind of pain.

The shame creeps in at the same rate Jeongguk approaches. It’s the same shame for how he sees you, but also for how you’ve reacted. You can barely look at him, yet you’re ashamed for not giving him a chance, even though he’s the one who made the bed he’s now tossing and turning in. He's so handsome, looking so warm and strong as he approaches, his black hair looking soft, shiny and just a little longer than last time. A part of you wishes he’d close his eyes so that you could throw your arms around his neck and breathe him in.

“Can you please leave me alone for a while?” is what you ask instead, clutching your notebook to your chest.

Now standing right before you, he looks down at you with sad, desperate eyes. “I’ll be quick, I promise. Two minutes is all I need.”

You’re not sure why, because you’re not an immature person, but you press your lips together, trying to suppress a smile. Noticing the shift in your expression, Jeongguk thinks back to what he said, smiling as well. “I set that one up pretty well, didn’t I?”

You turn your head, trying to stifle the smile, but you find that it fades easier than expected.

“And you think I’d wanna fuck that?” he snaps, eyeing your body with disgust.

Your gaze locks on the lower part of the wall. You wish someone would lend you the cloak of invisibility so that you could hide yourself from him and the world.

“Look at me,” he instructs, but you don’t. The more you think about his eyes on your body, the more you want to leave.

“Look. At me,” he repeats, firmer this time but still without sounding angry.

So you do.

“I get it if you don’t want anything else to do with me, but I can’t have you walking around, believing what I said is true.”

Although you don’t cry, you reluctantly let him see just how hurt you are.

“You were right. I wanted to hurt you. I said those things because I was angry, and I wanted just… some kind of justice. When you instead seemed so… unfazed, I let it get the best of me, and somewhere along the way, I lost myself. But I was wrong and although I wanted payback, I didn’t mean to hurt you to this degree. I was only looking for a reaction, anything that showed me that you were paying for what I thought you’d done. If I’d known how I really made you feel, regardless of if you were innocent or not, I would’ve stopped.“

“So you’re just a man, after all?” you ask, and maybe it’s uncalled for, maybe it’s not.

Jeongguk takes half a step back, appearing lost for words, and with enough pain in his surprised eyes for you to think he looks hurt.

He blinks and lowers his voice. “Yeah. Just a man. But listen to me—the things I said were. Not. True. Okay? You hear me? I cannot let you go around thinking you’re anything like what I told you.”

“I find that hard to believe. How else would you know exactly where to hit? What to say to cause maximum damage? Talking about my cellulite and my… weight and…”

“I said what I figured any woman would be scared to hear.”

“Yeah, sure,” you dismiss.

It doesn’t matter what he says now—he did know exactly what to say, which means he must have looked at you, inspected your body and found every single one of your flaws. It makes you nauseous, as if some of those flaws didn’t exist to the world simply because no one other than you had noticed or mentioned them. Then Jeongguk and his friends scrutinized every inch of you, uncovering them all and putting them on display.

“I think you’re gorgeous.”

“You would’ve told me.”

You really think he would have. The Jeongguk who wants you to sleep in his bed, holding you from behind, who asks to hold your hand, and who puts frosting on your lips as an excuse to kiss them—he would have told you if he liked you. If he thought you were beautiful.

“I didn’t. I thought–incredibly dumbly–that if I told you what I really think of you, you’d think I was hitting on you. If things were different, if we ran into each other somewhere without all this… baggage, I would’ve hit on you, but all I wanted at the time was for you to trust me as a friend and to trust that I just wanted you to be safe. I didn’t want you to think I was looking to get laid or that I would… that I was anything like Hoseong. I didn’t know that you took my bullshit to heart—because again, it’s just not true—and so I chose not to say anything.”

“But we’ve been past that point for a while, haven’t we?” you ask, finding his explanation a little too weak to believe. “I trusted you enough to tell you about the worst moment of my life, I kissed you, and I told you how pretty I think you are, yet you couldn’t even…”

Frustration boils in your veins, mixing with the raw disappointment and hurt which cools you back down. You feel so… small, so defeated. “I don’t need compliments. Just… something. Something that would’ve shown me you weren’t being sweet only because you felt guilty.”

Jeongguk doesn’t know what to say to that. In retrospect, yeah, he should’ve told you, and thinking back to his joke about pretty being for girls makes him cringe with both shame and regret. Especially since he’d used multiple occasions to taunt you with the fact that you’re not a pretty girl. But it had been hard, finding a balance in showing his affection without scaring you off. When you reacted the way you did that night during the power outage, he... didn’t want to risk making you more uncomfortable or afraid. He’d decided to take a step back, let you lead, and he would follow. Of course, that backfired horribly.

You look at him, hurt still brimming in your eyes.

He searches for words, trying to explain himself better. “I should’ve told you, but I… I didn’t want to risk making you uncomfortable. I wanted to follow your lead and let you decide everything. You wanted me handcuffed and blindfolded—of course I realized you were nervous. But I thought you were more worried I’d do something to you, rather than what I would think of you. I didn’t want to influence you to do anything you would’ve regretted.”

You’re clearly not convinced, and you shake your head slowly.

“You could’ve just given me a ‘you too.’ That’s all I would’ve needed.”

Jeongguk can only watch as you leave, obviously still very much hurt by him. Ten seconds after your footsteps have disappeared, he heads back to the desk area, his head hung low.

Jimin looks at him, JJ and Min gone. The unasked question hangs in the air, and Jeongguk can see Jimin realize that no, it didn’t go very well.

“You gotta remember that she’s had a hectic few months and maybe wasn’t really able to process everything. You being an ass was probably the least of her worries for a while—until it wasn’t anymore. And healing isn’t always linear. I’m sure she’ll come around one day.”

Jeongguk sighs. “I don’t think she will, and I can’t expect that of her. I just… hate myself for what I did to her. I never even realized she was just walking around, bleeding from my words.”

You haven’t fixed your car since the last tampering, but fortunately, Jihyo agreed to lend you one of the station’s unmarked cars. A discreet black thing that you park outside the station at ten a.m. on Thursday to pick up Sana, who needed to retrieve some things and told you to meet her there.

Getting no reply, you lock your phone and step out of the car with a sigh. The ground is powdered white, your shoes leaving tracks as you walk up to the station’s main entrance.

Warm air envelops you as you step inside, the doors falling shut behind you.

“Good morning!” Sana rushes over, a coffee in hand. “Sorry, I’ll be done in a minute, I just gotta ask Mark something.”

She gestures for you to follow, and you do, trailing behind her into the sea of desks. The place is unusually crowded with officers, so you decide to wait near the wall, leaving her to weasel her way into the middle on her own.

There usually aren’t this many people here when you’re around, but in your case, the problem isn’t necessarily people; it’s big, strong, law enforcement men. Though they’re not paying you much attention—they must be preparing for something big—you still can’t will your body to fully relax.

By instinct, you tug at your clothes, wishing you hadn’t left your jacket in the car. Since you decided to wear civilian clothes today, you thought you might as well dress somewhat according to your original mission’s dress code. Except adjusted for winter, of course.

You’re wearing winter boots that reach your upper calves, a pair of those invisibly fleece-lined pantyhose you’ve seen all over social media the last few months, and a cream-colored knitted turtleneck dress. It’s been in your closet forever, but unfortunately, you didn’t try it on before you had to leave.

It feels too tight on your body. Not to wear into a ‘strangely religious neighborhood,’ but too tight to wear here. You pull at the hem where it ends at your mid-thigh, keeping your eyes down when people pass you and hoping no one is looking at you and taking note of how awkwardly shaped your body is.

You stand there for a while, avoiding people’s eyes while you wait for Sana.

However, when you—out of the corner of your eye—notice a uniformed man walking toward you, you look up. Jeongguk’s eyes flicker between you and the people walking past you, as if he’s seen exactly the shameful way you carry yourself around men—these men—nowadays. It’s gotten worse since you left his house; you know that, but when all of your confidence was fueled by anger and then denial, removing those leaves… not much left.

He comes to stand in front of you, looking down at you with frustrated eyes. He’s so broad, so imposing, and it’s very evident when he wears his navy uniform, the sleeves rolled up his veiny forearms.

“Listen to me—”

You look away, about to step back, but he grasps your hand—not just to stop you but to guide the two of you a few steps away from the path of officers and behind the tall panels of a cubicle.

“No. Listen to me. I’ll leave you alone after this if that’s what you want, but I need you to know that you are so incredibly beautiful.”

You sigh, looking at him and wordlessly begging him to just give up already. He’s quiet for a few long seconds, his frustration seemingly growing.

When he speaks again, his voice is calm, more earnest. “Do you remember the first time we met?”

“No,” you shake your head. You can’t recall the very first time you met him.

“I do. It was a rainy day—my fourth at the station—and I ran into you at the main entrance. The rain had wet your hair, and I held the door open for you. You thanked me, but you didn’t really smile much, just politely. I think you also bowed your head slightly. I remember thinking that you must’ve been cold from the rain, but I realize you were wary around the men here, even if you and I didn’t know each other.”

Sounds about right.

“And I thought that you were just so beautiful.”

You look down. It’s humiliating, and you feel like shit, hearing him throw compliments your way just to make you feel better. You can’t tell if he’s lying or not, but what else would he say? You can’t exactly say you expected him to approach you today to call you ugly.

Noticing your hesitation, he appears to be searching his mind for something, and you glance at him.

Suddenly, his eyes widen slightly, and he reaches into the pocket of his navy uniform pants. It’s his phone that he pulls out, and he starts to scroll. He scrolls, and he scrolls, until he finally finds what he’s looking for.

“Look,” he says, handing you the phone.

Although you’re not too keen on entertaining whatever this is, you can’t help but be a little curious. What could he have on his phone that would convince you?

Accepting the device, you start reading the words on the screen. They’re text messages from an old group chat, dated years back, and though you can’t remember the exact date Jeongguk first showed up at the station, you assume it was right around then. The chat seems to have consisted mostly of him, Ryung, Hoseong, Seunghwan, and Junseo.

Seunghwan: Yeah, we’re excited to have you, just let us know if you need anything.

The next few texts are from the following day.

Jeongguk: So I just met the most gorgeous woman I think I’ve ever seen??

Jeongguk: Quick question, is there a work dating policy here? I can’t remember.

Jeongguk: And if not, where do I find this woman again? Is she an officer? I’m not even kidding when I say that I’m absolutely head over heels from a three-second interaction, and she didn’t even really say anything.

Jeongguk: I’d love to ask her out.

Ryung: If it’s who I think it is then you better stay away, man.

You read on, seeing how Ryung goes on to describe a woman’s features, which happen to align with yours. The length, color, and style of your hair, the color of your eyes, and your height. But also a very generous way of describing your face and the shape of your body.

Jeongguk: Yeah! Is she with one of you already? In that case, I apologize!

Ryung: No, but Hoseong did her briefly, and she’s absolutely mental. Pretty, but crazy

The next words are not very nice, the men urging Jeongguk to stay away from the woman who could only ever be you, promising to tell him what happened the day after.

“See,” Jeongguk says, “Even Ryung knew exactly who I meant; I didn’t even have to describe you, just say that you were the most gorgeous woman I’d ever seen.”

You’re not sure. Yeah, the evidence points to that, and you can’t deny that you’re definitely feeling some form of relief, but… you can still hear his voice in your ears, see the anger and hatred in his dark eyes.

You hand the phone back, and Jeongguk looks around, sighing before turning his attention back to you. “You want me to be completely honest? Tell you exactly what I think of you?”

Your eyebrows knit together in confusion. “No? That’s the point? I know that I’m not your type. I’m full of flaws. I don’t have a body fat percentage in the negatives like you, I don’t always have the energy to shave every inch of my body, and I’ve never gotten flowers. No matter what you say now, I’m not someone you want.”

“You think I’m someone who would care about any of that?” he asks, his voice tinged with hurt.

“You look like someone who would.”

Jeongguk looks away, taking a second to gather his thoughts.

“I… wanted to ask you out that day, after I first met you. You looked so pretty out there in the rain, and I think my heart stopped for a while. I think that you’re cute—really fucking adorable—and charming, and you’re smart and kind, and you’re absolutely breath-taking and sexy as hell.

"Which was another reason I was so angry at you; I saw this… stunning woman, who appeared to live a very privileged life, yelling ‘sexism’ whenever something didn’t go your way to… I don’t know, avoid consequences and get ahead, not realizing what sexism truly meant for other women. I didn’t think there was that much harm in what I said because I thought you knew very well how goddamn pretty you are, so I gripped at every straw, trying to get a reaction.”

You listen to every word he says, still unable to decide. You want to believe him, but the deep wounds he carved into your skin are still bleeding.

“I was so conflicted during our mission. On one hand, I had to pretend to like the person who had shot one of my best friends, who got away with it and refused to be held accountable for it. On the other hand… I liked seeing you pretend to like me too. First, out of spite, but then I realized that I liked seeing you smile, and how nice you were to the people around you, except for me, of course, but I guess I always started it. Then you fell asleep in my arms at the barbeque, and I knew I was fucked. I felt like I betrayed my friends for… feeling something other than hatred for you.

“But this little thing, that hated me so much, let herself be so vulnerable as to sleep in my arms. And I guess I looked at you differently after that. The more I realized that you might actually be a pretty decent detective; a decent person, the harder it was for me to be mean to you. After everything, and after I’d found out what had happened, I wanted to tell you how much I liked you and how pretty I thought you were, but I was scared you wouldn’t come with me if I did. I was scared they’d look for you at your apartment, so I kept quiet.

“Even after you came to stay with me, and it seemed like you started to trust me, even just a little bit, I had to convince myself to wait. And the more I got to know you, the harder it became. Do you have any idea how much I wanted to bury you in flowers? Hold you and kiss you silly? And you know why I was always up before you—or at least I tried to be—when you slept in my bed with me?”

You shake your head because you don’t know.

There's something else in his eyes when he holds your gaze, “Because I dream about you, and I wake up hard. But I remembered how I freaked you out when we made out back at the house, when you were on my lap and I got hard. I didn’t want to scare you or make you uncomfortable, so I made sure to wake up before you, just in case.

“I wanted to kiss you and hold you and really, it would’ve been my pleasure if you’d wanted to sleep with me. But more than that, I wanted you to be safe and feel safe, never doubting why I was doing what I was.”

He shuts his eyes for a short moment. “I guess that’s all I can say. I don’t need you to forgive me, I just need you to know that all I wanted was revenge; nothing of what I said was true.”

He opens his eyes again, looking into yours with his soft, brown ones and a gentle sincerity. Though it’s overshadowed by something else. “I have many regrets, but you are my biggest. What I did to you.”

Regret.

As if she’s been waiting for the right moment to make her return, you hear Sana call your name. When you turn around, you spot her approaching.

“I gotta go,” you excuse yourself.

Sana looks between you and Jeongguk, but when no one says anything, she shrugs and turns her attention to you. “So, Jihyo said you had a problem with your apartment? The door, was it? Cause I can call my brother, and he’ll fix it for free next week if you want?”

“You’re living in your apartment? On your own?” Jeongguk questions, his voice upset.

You turn back at him, “Yeah. Have been since I left your house. It’s fine.”

Despite the clear worry his eyes display, he makes no effort to follow you and talk you straight, probably realizing that there’s nothing else he can do; that was his last chance.

<previous | next> author's note: so there's that! thanks for waiting for it <3 this was the last puzzle piece of their past, i think, and i'd love to hear your thoughts on everything, but especially him lol <3<3

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armysantiny · 8 months ago

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-[chan; soft bf headcanon

My favourite single father of seven/j

Meeting Chan was almost fate, honestly

You’re a graphic designer and happen to love designing album covers

Stray Kids were finishing up an album and needed a graphic designer to help create the album covers

Lo and behold~

You and Chan meet!

Bonding during meeting after meeting while the creative process goes about working its magic

The bonding sessions turn into dropping by each other’s workspace

By which I mean you visiting Chan’s studio pretty much every time you have a lunch break and bringing a snack with you

Which he greatly appreciates <3

Because he never leaves that room/j

The speed at which you two become best friends is impeccable

Very much a duo – especially the kind that are always seen hanging out together

The feelings start not too long after too

There is one problem though... you’re both oblivious

Painfully oblivious

Somehow you both can’t see that the other is head over heels, and it doesn’t take long for the rest of skz to start taking matters into their own hands

They love you, really, but the running around in circles is going to drive them a little mad

Just a little :D

They keep trying to bash hints over your heads

Which is ironic because the confession happens so quickly

Catches everyone off guard fr

The two of you are hanging out late and it gets blurted out

Cue quick discussion over what you want in a relationship and boom—

Y’all are a couple now! Everyone liked that

Chan being your boyfriend comes with seven other people because none of these men know what the meaning of the phrase personal space is

Baby I don’t make the rules here, this is just the truth

You take it in stride though, which Chan appreciates

Oh yeah, and this man is a hugger

A certified cuddler I’m telling you

I’m convinced he needs his arms around you for thirty minutes a day, every day, at least

Will have you sit in his lap while he works so he can get his daily y/n cuddles

Try to move and watch him whine I swear—

Do you not want his affection anymore??/j

Lmao but despite how busy the both of you are, date nights are wonderful

He plans dinner reservations on days you’re both free and refuses to listen to anyone asking him to work

Date nights are for the two of you and the two of you only <33

Walks hand-in-hand with you after dinner and you stop by a few stalls

If you happen to pass by an arcade, he’s gonna win you a plushie from the claw machine

Sure he spends a little too much on it, but it’s all good fun

Especially worth it to see your face when he does win a plushie

And sure, your friends are more than happy that you’re dating Chan

But they are a little jealous

Because who doesn’t want a relationship like yours

You lucky darling, you~

Networks: @kwritersworld, @kdiarynet, @ultkpopnetwork, @whipped-kpop-creators

If you’ve made it this far, thank you for reading! Consider reblogging, leaving some feedback or donating to my kofi!

Taglist: @teeztheflag, @jeonqquk, @mikailo666, @kkooongie, @xavi-in-kpopland, @marxenash, @borahae-reads, @tinystarstay | Taglist form

#Writer Elf Minnie #kwritersworldnet #kdiarynet #ultkpop #wkcnet #stray kids x reader #stray kids headcanons #bang chan x reader #bang chan headcanons #stray kids fluff #bang chan fluff #skz headcanons #skz x reader #skz fluff

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prettyboytsum · 11 months ago

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˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ first night back I iwaizumi hajime cw: afab! reader, dirty talk, oral (receiving) disclaimer: all characters are aged up! mdni! wc: 521

the first night iwaizumi was back in japan for good was surprising, to say the least. it was one of the few times where he didn’t have to cram a year’s worth of dates in two weeks or soak in your presence because he wouldn’t be able to see you for the next couple of months.

the plan was for him to stay over in your new tokyo apartment for a couple of weeks. he claimed that it would be a closer drive and it’d give him time to figure out when he wanted to go back to the prefecture. the added bonus of seeing you every day, even if only for a short period, was enticing enough for someone who spent the majority of the last four years calling the love of his life. so, as any loving partner would, you had assumed that he’d be tired from his roughly ten-hour flight from california to japan based on all his planning. the sheets were just changed, his favorite scented candles were lit and you made sure to cook up a feast for when he arrived home. you went above and beyond for his trip back. one thing you didn’t account for was that he missed you—in more ways than one. ”fucking missed this pussy,” iwaizumi groans to himself before he buries his face between your thighs. he eats you out like a starved man, your clothes strewn on the kitchen floor the moment he saw you. ”haji,” you whine, short pants escaping your soft lips as you gripped his hair. for all the things you had prepared for, you didn’t expect him to be needy as soon as he landed. ”nobody even came close to how gorgeous you are, baby,” iwaizumi says, pulling you closer to his lips as you grip the island counter. “can’t believe i was away from you for this long—god, i’m gonna fuck you every night.” ”haji,” you moan louder, throwing your head back in pleasure as he fucks you with his tongue. your body gets warmer—you’ve never seen your boyfriend this desperate and you’d be a liar if you said it wasn’t turning you on. ”yeah?” he whispers, planting quick kisses on your thighs before looking up at you. “bet you missed this dick, huh? fingers just weren’t big enough for your pretty cunt.” you nod, biting your lip as you take a proper look at him. his eyes were blown with lust, his voice husky with need and want—a tone that you haven’t heard from him in far too long. you felt yourself get wetter at the sight, squeezing your thighs together. a movement that doesn’t go unnoticed by him. iwaizumi knows that he looks good, he’s tan from the seaside sun, he’s in the best shape of his life—and there’s nothing more dangerous than a man who knows how attractive he is. ”’s okay, princess,” he replies, giving you a boyish smile that only makes your heart stutter and knees buckle. “gonna make you feel so good that you’ll feel me inside of you for days, alright? jus’ let me spoil my girl.”

✩ author's note: me when i cut it off right before they get down and dirty </3 I SWEAR A FULL FLEDGE TOE CURLING SMUT IS IN THE WORKS ... in the meantime, enjoy a (potentially) part 1 drabble on pussy starved iwa! ⓒ prettyboytsum 2024. all works are posted under this account on tumblr.com and are protected by copyright laws. do not plagiarise these works on any other platform or account.

#₊˚⊹♡₊ luna writes #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x reader smut #iwaizumi hajime #iwaizumi hajime x reader #iwaizumi smut #iwaizumi x reader #hajime x reader #haikyuu fic #haikyuu smut #haikyuu #haikyuu drabbles

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rose-petles · 19 days ago

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⋆౨ৎ˚⟡.• ENHA - [ 형라인 ] - HYUNG LINE

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡.• -> “..Stop being a brat, y/n..”

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡.• -> Paring : Enha Hyung Line x Fem!reader

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡.• -> Their reaction to you being a brat [ Smut ]

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡.• || LEE HEESESUNG ~ ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡.•

Heeseung had you bed over the side of the bed, you where gripping onto to the bed sheets as your boyfriend blowed your back out. “S-slow ah.. down~ hungggg..” you couldn’t even properly speak.

His thrusts were calculated and rough, “hmm? Why should I huh? I told you to stop being a fucking brat.. hmm.. did uou listen? No.”

He continued to thrust his hips to your hip. “So you gonna be a good girl and ah.. fucking take this dick.”

You whimpered, “f-f..ah fuck y-you..” you were at least weakened in the knees from him pounding into you.

“Would say the same brat..” He continues to thrust into you, “I’m already doing so..”

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡.• || PARK JAY ~ ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡.•

Jay pulled you into the bathroom at a party. You had been flirting with other guys in front of him, acting like a complete brat. He had enough when he saw you getting too touchy with him.

Thats why you were currently holding on for dear life. You were trying not to moan too loud or get caught by anyone at the party as Jay made you ride him.

“Keep riding me, I didn’t tell you to stop huh?” He grunted squeezing your hips making you whimper and continue to bounce.

“B-but i’m ah..close..” you moaned into your hand which was trying to cover your moans.

“Well bad girls don’t get to cum. So you’re gonna hold it in till I say you can.” He continued to thrust upwards.

So you did what you were told to do and held it in till Jay said you could cum. All the while trying to keep quiet.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡.• || SIM JAKE ~ ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡.•

He moved faster, your moans becoming more louder. "A-Ah hunggg f-fuck you." You gritted.

"Sure princess.." he chuckled and continued to move. "You sound so pretty" Jake mentioned, it was like music.

"Mhm who do you belong to..?"

"You.. a-ah only you daddy." You whimpered.

The tip of his cock reached a certain point after repeatedly kissing the wall of your cervix. You closed your eyes your whimpers becoming more apparent.

"Nuh huh, eyes open brat." He stated, gently smacking your face. You opened your eyes, "A-ah oh goshh." You locked eyes with him and eyebrows frowned, "w-why.?"

"Because if you wanna act like a brat and I'll treat you like a brat." He started to move faster again.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡.• || PARK SUNGHOON ~ ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡.•

He chased his own pleasure as he felt how you clenched around him, he didn’t care if you were sorry or sore.

You had flirted with another boy and needed to show that you’re his and only his. "Fuck baby."

"You're all mine"

"hm..."

"say it"

"f'm all yours d-daddy a-all yours~"

He continued to let his huge dick pound and bully its way into your tiny cunt. At this point you were a moaning mess, you had tears running down your face as you gripped on the light pink and white teddy bear he got for you.

"Hmm your my little slut to ruin, huh. Daddy’s fucking slut." He smirked.

"I-i'm D-daddy’s.. slut.." he felt you clench around him.

Back to -> | Navagation | Masterlist

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kooktrash · 2 years ago

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guys my age | jeon jungkook DRABBLE 18+

➣ pairings: dilf jk x female college student!y/n [she/her]

➣ genre/au: dilf au, best friends father, smut, age gap [38 & 21] flush

warnings: 2k words. smüt. pool smüt [ oral f & m receiving]

You know absolutely nothing about law, especially not the kind Jungkook works with. As a litigator his clientele consists mostly of large businesses filing copyright lawsuits, tax fraud, etc. it’s probably the most boring form of law but he gets paid big bucks for it.

You understood his work and how busy he could be so of course some weekends he still had to work. It kind of sucks when you come see him but you also understand it and try to stay out of his way when his case partner is over.

“Babe!” Jungkook called out from his office.

“Yeah?” You shouted back from the living room where you’ve been on your phone and watching TV. You’ve been lounging around pretty much all of Saturday in just a tiny pair of Jungkook’s plaid boxers and a short top looking like the definition of comfort.

“What are you thinking about for dinner?” He asked, walking into the entrance way of the living room with Namjoon right behind him. You assumed they were done for the weekend. You shrugged, resting your head on the back cushion of the couch as you looked at them two.

“Not hungry.”

Namjoon looked at Jungkook who just looked at him back, “I’ll get these filed and ready for Monday.”

“Alright,” Jungkook said walking Namjoon toward the door but stopped at the couch to be next to you as he watched his partner head the rest of the way toward the door.

“Bye Y/n,” Namjoon said with a clear of his throat, “Sorry for taking up so much time.”

You just waved goodbye and turned your attention back to the TV. Jungkook looked down at you waiting for you to say something, “You’re not hungry?”

“Not really,” you said looking down at your phone lazily.

He released a small sigh as he rounded the couch and sat down next to you. Without a word he picked you up and pulled you onto his lap despite your little whine in protest at being babied.

“You mad at me?”

He knows he works a lot and he just feels so bad. Last time he was able to drive to you for a few days but this time he begged you to come here for the weekend. Then he gets this huge workload that had to be done by Monday so he wasn’t even able to take you out yesterday or today.

Jieun’s mom cheated on him because he was always busy with work and he’s worried. He’s still scared that he’ll drive you away because of work and he doesn’t want that.

You laughed softly, running your fingers through his hair, “No? I’m just not hungry.”

“You sure?” He asked, “Sorry, I know I asked you to come this weekend and then I got all this work that had to be done and I’ve basically wasted your entire Saturday having you locked in here all day.”

You didn’t say anything, hand under his chin as you tilted his head up and placed your lips on his gently. He kissed back immediately letting his tongue swipe along your bottom lip deepening the kiss as you shifted on his lap.

Jungkook brought his hands down to your hips, moving you enough for you to get the hint and straddle him, “You’re always so sweet.”

“Liar,” you smiled into the kiss as he held you pressed against his chest.

“For the most part,” he chuckled, “Plus you taste sweet.”

“Mm, do I?” You asked, looking down at him. You did. Everything about you was sweet to him.

In the beginning you came off strong and eager and very lust driven. That’s what your relationship consisted of at first, just a lot of sex, sex, and sex. Then one day he asked if you wanted to go out for dinner after you left for school, he offered to drive down and the two of you spent an entire day in the city. After that you would call him in the evening, ask how work went, offer to drive down and see him for the weekend but you two still tried keeping it downlow.

When Jieun found out it put a stop to what the two of you did out of guilt until one day Jieun snapped at him and said, ‘Jeez you were a lot nicer when I knew you were hooking up with Y/n!’

Why’d she say that? Because she used his credit card to book a flight to Tokyo with Yoongi. So really, that was her weird way of saying that he needs to date someone so he can relax and it just so happened to be her friend. She still gets grossed out when she sees you two kids but she also feels awful for blaming him for the divorce and Y/n’s her best friend so she got over it pretty quickly. Soon the two of you were officially dating, doing grocery runs, shopping together, going on real dates and all of it. You never blamed him for having to work or not call because he would do little things to make up for it like deliver food to your place, maybe some flowers to your new job—a traditional dating man, you always said. Nobody had ever gotten you flowers and that was just so ridiculous to him that not a single one of your previous boyfriends ever even thought to do that!

Anyway, back to the point, you’re the sweetest little minx he’s ever met.

“What about swimming and then drinks?” You asked now that he was deep in thought, “Before it gets cold.”

He sighed, “You can live in the water, can’t you?”

“Well…” you stared off in thought, “I’m just thinking about how we’ve never had sex in the pool before.”

“You’re gonna be the death of me, y’know? A premature death,” he said as he held you tightly and used his big strong arms to stand up with you in his arms, “Let’s go.”

You were both sexual beings despite Jungkook’s three or four years of celibacy. Even when he was with his ex wife he never felt satiated so it’s no surprise that when you came along the two of you were very intimate. You were always so eager and ready and though he loved your sweet side when he would catch you fast asleep on FaceTime while he worked away in his office, he loved your needy side too.

He was gripping the edge of the pool tightly so he wouldn't float away and angled his head to one side in an attempt to deepen the kiss the two of you have been sharing since you got in the water. He wouldn’t be surprised at all if he ever got a complaint from his neighbors from how often he’s fucked you on the poolside. He let the hand that had been cupping your cheek slide down to your neck then toward the hem of your bottoms. Your tongue poked against his and he parted his lips even more to allow you in.

He skimmed over your bottom until his hand touched the soft skin of your thigh where he pinched lightly and wrapped it around his waist. You lifted your other leg on your own essentially straddling his waist in the water as he pushed you against the wall for more support.

Needing to catch a breath, you began to pull back feeling Jungkook follow your movements to keep kissing. You nipped at his bottom lip as you separated, making him groan.

His hands were on your hips now looking down at your swollen glossy lips panting, "You have no idea the things you make me want to do with you.”

He was huffing out of breath pressing himself closer against your body making sure to keep your legs wrapped around him. He lowered his mouth to your neck placing soft kisses up your jugular.

"Yeah? Do tell, Mr. Jeon," you licked your lips smiling at the old term you gave him.

His eyes rolled back as you kissed down his jaw toward the back of his ear. He let out a breathy laugh at the tingle over his sensitive spot. His hands caressed your thighs and back making you grind against him a little, "Again with that? I thought I’ve taught you better.”

“You like it,” you teased. You felt his hand slide under the hand of your underwear, thumb pushing into the bone of your hip tracing it toward your butt. You slipped your tongue out pulling back once more to catch your breath. He looked devilish.

The messy, wet, black hair. The lip piercing he currently swiped his tongue over. The bob of his Adam's Apple as he gulped. The rough feel of his fingers inching toward your core as neither one of you pulled away from the intense eye contact.

Just like that, his middle finger was running over your clit lightly. Your lips drew open in a small gasp and he took the opportunity to go in for a tongue kiss. His brows scrunched together swallowing your moan as your hips bucked into his hand.

His hand toyed with the slick against your heat using it to his aid as he let his middle finger push between your folds.

His mouth formed an 'O' shape against yours at the first feel of your hand over his growing member. The briefs did very little to stand against your hand as you placed your palm over him. The water made it easier for him to carry you without getting tired but it almost numbed your touch—but you wanted pool sex and who was he to say no?

You struggled to tug his briefs down barely getting them under his member to let it peak out as his hand relentlessly rubbed against your clit. You finally slipped your hand over his member, relishing in the size of him as your palm ran over his tip.

The water made it hard to feel everything clearly but as you ran your fingertip along his tip you could definitely feel some sort of substance coming out.

His head dropped down against your shoulder as his hand sped up its ministrations using his free hand to guide your hips further along. His nails dug into the soft flesh of your hip.

"Fuck," he groaned feeling your hand stroke his member. Your nail ran along the thick vein underneath and thumb swiped along his slit. "Feels good," he mumbled against your neck, lips brushing against you as he relished in the feeling.

He could feel you getting close too from the way your walls tightened around his middle finger and it made him want to stretch you further. He let his ring finger toy with your entrance before sinking in feeling some constriction before you relaxed around him.

It didn't take much longer for his hips to stutter as they bucked into your fist and he had to grope at your waist to keep you from falling out of his grasp. His knees were going weak as he used one to keep you up against the wall.

"Jungkook," you moaned lightly, feeling his palm press harder against your clit bringing you closer and closer to your high, "I—I'm close."

"Mmm," he bit his lip, "Let go, pretty baby."

Your legs trembled, one hooking around him tighter pressing him further against you as you grinded against his hand. All it took was the whisper of your name so close to your ear, "Y/n, I love you.”

You nearly froze and got a second he wondered if it was wrong for him to say that. This was still new, he might’ve scared you off but that’s how he felt right now.

“I love you too,” you said in a whisper as your hand drew toward his base massaging his scrotum in your grip and at once, you both released in each other's hands kissing deeply as he mumbled it again against your lips.

::.

TOO MANY OF YALL HAVE ASKED FOR A CONTINUATION SO HERE IT IS BUT SOFTER

Ask GMA Jungkook and Y/n? SEND IN INBOX

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maximumkillshot · 10 months ago

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I Can't Lose You-Chapter 13

Warnings: Non really! Just some A quality fluff, there is some references to hard times, other than that, nothing.

Pairing: Changbin x Reader???

Characters: All boys minus Chan

A/N: Okay this is super fluffy dare I say brush your teeth after. Enjoy!

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ANY WORK THAT YOU SEE ON OTHER SITES THAT ARE MY WORKS PLEASE NOTIFY ME IMMEDIATELY.

It was the soft light of dawn that stirred Changbin from sleep. He felt a warm weight on his bicep, his hand aching from the bruises on it. He made sure not to flex it as he turned his head to see the owner of that warm weight. He smiled to himself, looking at you, your body angled towards him, your angel plush koala’ed with your head on his bicep.

He fought the yawn trying to escape him as he looked at you. You always rested so beautifully. He could watch you for hours, if he was any good at art he would have a studio full of different mediums of the same subject, you. The walls would be covered with photos, paintings, and drawings of when you’re resting, awake, laughing… That was his favorite, it would look like someone turned on a light in a dark room. You always looked like that, too.

He almost giggled to himself when he thought about how much of an opposite to you he was. He never slept gracefully. Mostly landing on the opposite side of the bed where he started from and limbs either starfished or belly down smothering himself in the pillow. He was wondering if there was anyone else that he knows that looks as pretty as you do sleeping. Jisung looks cute but not pretty. Hyunjin looks almost angry as he sleeps, Minho can sleep with his eyes open which is just unsettling at times, I.N. sleeps in a ball (fox fits him perfectly), Chan looks catatonic, Minnie looks peaceful, but also slightly angry, Lixie however. He slept pretty. Sometimes Bin would love it when Lix would choose him as a pillow, especially during touring. Lix was always so nervous, so much so that sometimes Bin would get a call from his sunshine twin for help. Felix couldn’t sleep without cuddling him. So most days Bin would Tell I.N. goodnight after a shower and head to Lix’s room. He remembered just after day 2 of a Los Angeles show Felix showed up to his room. One minute they were talking, the next Bin woke up to Lix flattened like a pancake between the wall and himself. He remembers trying to move away from Lix’ and hearing Felix groaning and saying, “Hyung… no come back,” with grabby hands. He remembered looking down at him and saying, “You need to breathe Yongbok-ah” as he chuckled. Felix looked up and smirked as he said, “I’m breathing, now come back…” as Felix locked onto him. There Changbin was stuck for the better half of an hour as Felix went back to sleep.

Also like Felix, you would sleep like a rock next to Changbin, but when Changbin would wake up or even shift, your eyes would open, making sure he wasn’t leaving. If he was, he would need to either bargain or say where he was going. Changbin, now that he thinks about it, recognizes that you and Felix have a very unique relationship. It’s not just because you have a unique relationship with each one of the members either. You and Felix have been through a lot, him being the first you called a friend. There was a lot of culture shock when you moved from New York to Seoul. Felix stood up with you through all of the jetlag and, although you could speak Korean in a limited capacity before you moved, it was nowhere near what you needed to speak to survive.

Felix rented an apartment with you until you could get on your feet, so you didn’t feel so alone in a foreign country. He also did exercises with you in Korean, so you could learn the language better. He helped you form shortcuts for memorizing the Hangul and even helped you with the more advanced speaking by watching K-dramas with you. He’d pause it every few seconds to teach you about what you just heard. It’s because of Felix that you speak fluently after five years. Bin remembered those moments, coming over the apartment to help teach you. He knew there was nothing else expected behind Felix’s kindness aside from, “I understand that it’s hard, let me take some pressure off, yeah?” He could practically hear the thick Aussie accent as he reminisced.

Changbin looked at your hands, he could see the signs of anxiety healing on them. He knew all too well how your anxiety slams into you. You pick at your nails at times and your nails are short because of it, it’s something you’ve been trying to work on since you had teeth. However, now they seem to be healing. That made him feel good. They were a representation of your mood, your healing process. It was not often that he looked at you without a pang of guilt, however. Lately, it’s still touch and go. He always felt a slight worry at the fact that you were married to Chris and not himself, now it’s full blown panic, rightfully so. If he was married to you he would be able to be closer to you, make sure you’re happy; now that line was blocking him. He knew the line was there, he felt it in the earth between the both of you. That line that used to be so defined, now blurring. That guilt shifting focus, instead of guilt for looking at you fondly, now morphing into guilt about this entire situation. If he would’ve spoken up, you wouldn’t be like this. If he would’ve said what Minho, Felix, Han, and himself were thinking; you wouldn’t be here.

There were so many times that he’s found you in the midst of a panic attack, on edge thinking Chris would come home, just to have the rug snatched from under you. Sometimes he’d see you choking back tears as you are doing dishes, seeing no sign of Chan’s favorite mug, meaning he never came home. Smelling his cologne in the morning was the worst. Bin would find you curled on Chan’s side of the bed, asking why he left without saying anything. Questioning your worth. There was no stability for you, no peace. He wanted to tell you to get a divorce so many times. It was something that everyone who spent time with you wanted to scream. Seeing you suffer was and still is torture. Bin never knew how to bring it up though. He knows that you said that you’d leave Chan… But would you?

The press, the company, the fans, all of them would tear you apart. It’d be a massacre, if anything. The company made a show of it. The first public K-Pop couple, going public willingly. “The king and queen of K-Pop”, Chan from the Stray Kids falls in love with one of the best photographers in the business… The headlines made Bin choke at first. It shouldn’t have been that title, this situation, that circumstance. Chan’s hand should’ve never been in yours. Chan’s knee should’ve never touched the Earth, his hand should’ve never reached in his pocket to fish out a tiny black box. More than anything, the press should’ve never known anything. The backlash wasn’t terrible, with Chan protecting you for once. But now? That made his heart rate pick up.

He wanted to keep you here. Safe and content, sleeping on his arm in the dawn of the morning in the middle of a living room floor. Hair tousled, surrounded by plushies, cradling you as you rest. No, not here, he refused to think about it. He refused to believe that anything bad would happen to you, not in his arms, in the safe space he made for you the same moment he met you. The past three days have been from Hell, yet you and him found strength in each other. He goes back to the second episode, the way you clung onto him, your hand barely able to fit half of his forearm. You stood here for him. You breathed for him. All because he asked you to. You fell fully expecting no one to catch you, since Chan never did. Instead, just like the plushies, his boys, your boys, caught you. Bin lunged for you, grabbed your hand and didn’t let go. He refused to, not after what he saw. What you went through. Not with how much he loves you.

Love is a strong word, now that Bin thinks about it. It’s unconditional. When you truly love someone, you don’t care about the ‘what’s’in life. What if someone found out, what if something happens, what are the risks? None of them matter. What matters is that person. He can’t remember a day after he met you where his needs ever superseded your own. It was natural to him. Do you need help carrying something? He’ll carry it all! Do you need an opinion on this photo? He drops all of his responsibilities for you. Chan never loved you. That pang in Bin’s chest came back. He had to face it. Yes, Chan never loved you. Yes, Chan used you as a tool, a tactic. Yes, he broke you. If anything, Chan was shitty at acting like he cared, but everyone didn’t want to see it, yourself included. Not anymore.

You have gone through too much to be treated like an afterthought. Bin will chase any monster away, he’ll fight anyone who tries to come near you with any other motive other than to help you. You shifted a little in your sleep and your hair fell from your now messy bun. He smiled seeing the scrunch of your nose as a strand of hair tickled you. He laid on his side to completely face you. He gently moved the offending strand out of the way, drinking in your presence. You sighed happily and your nostrils flared, chasing Bin’s hand slightly. Bin knew what you wanted, he cupped your face gently as you smirked, still in sleep. It’s these little things that melt Changbin. The fact that even when sleeping you miss the people you love, even if they’re right next to you. You do the same thing to Hannie and Lixie as well. Mere seconds later you shivered. You blindly turned around, angel in hand and got closer to Changbin, making yourself the little spoon. Changbin used two plushies as stacked pillows so he could rest his head as he cuddled you.

“Warmer?” Bin asked as he looped his hand over your body and the angel, his arm resting in the dip of your waist. He had a smile creeping on his face, he was like Chan in the right circumstances, a literal furnace. So resting with him was the best. Like a heated pillow and blanket draped over you. He knew that when you’re cold you seek warmth, especially when drowsy so he was waiting for you to start to migrate closer to him.

Soon your shivers stopped as you said, “mhm thanks Binnie” and you kissed his bicep, your version of a “thank you” as you melted into Bin’s chest. That interaction, once again, isn’t new. You kiss everyone, in appropriate places of course. It’s just how you are. If you’re cuddling with Hannie you peck him on the palm of his hands, if it’s Lixie or Minho, it's the cheeks all day every day. For Bin you peck his chest and arms. Bin as well as the others communicate the same way with you, Bin’s favorite places are the crown of your head and your forehead. Most of the boys follow suit with that tight parameter, except for Innah who will peck your hands, your fingers, whatever is accessible, even on the shoulder if you are cooking or something.

Bin caught him pecking your shoulder once as a thanks and he yelled, “Yah! What makes you so special??”, just to hear you say, “Aye! Don’t yell at my baby! Lookathim, he’s just a baby,” you cooed as you squished his cheeks and scratched his scalp. I.N. just had a shit eating grin as he said, “Hyung, why are you mad at me? I’m just a baby…” Bin just said, “yeah tell that to your browser history.” You immediately went into a fit of laughter as Innah said, “How do you know about that??” Bin just looked at him and yelled, “get off the group email, you degenerate!” Bin, when he couldn’t get to your head, like that night, he’ll kiss your hands as he holds them. He remembered and held onto the memories between you and the boys, smiling as he watched you in your sleep.

Eventually Minho got up and took a picture of course, Bin didn’t care though, as long as you weren’t disturbed. A little after Minho came and went, Hannie popped out of Lix’s room, he had an intent to his movements.

See, there is this thing Hannie does. As soon as he gets up he is very cuddly, not to anyone else except you. He always saw you as his sister, the one he never had. It’s because of that he has this need to make sure you’re okay and he does that by early morning cuddles. That all started after you asked if you could sleep in one of the boy’s beds at night, missing the feeling of a body next to you. Han noticed that whenever you were either in your bed or Bin’s he would wake up with anxiety, his hands searching for you before his eyes even opened. It only dawned on him recently that for the first two weeks of asking, every night you approached Hannie. When he asked you why you hadn't asked Bin or Jinnie, you had said that you didn’t know how to ask Bin. Eventually, you did get around to asking Bin and he was fine with it. Hannie always knew mornings were the worst for you. He walked in many times, just like Bin did, when you’d be crying on Chan’s pillow. He noticed you didn’t do that when there was a body next to you. It didn’t matter how disheveled either of them looked, you would cuddle up and fall right back to sleep peacefully.

The first time Han did this, he found you in your morning ritual of crying, then you felt the bed behind you dip, knowing it wasn’t Chris but one of the boys. You could even tell which one, it was Han. He always stepped lighter around you, especially when you were crying or sad. He knew that you would get startled otherwise. His heart only cracked further when you didn’t flinch or question who it was. Han didn’t say anything, he just delicately dug his hands into the ball you made of your body and he dragged you to himself. He covered the both of you with the blankets and he whispered, “You don’t need that Anya, let that go for me. Come here, hold on to me… there you go... Good job Anya”. You let go of your husband’s pillow and grabbed on to Hannie, digging into his chest as you cried. His deep rumble soothing you as he said, “I’m so sorry, my heart breaks Anya. You don’t deserve this. Worth so much more. I got you, breathe.” Ever since then, Han always searched you out in the mornings.

Hannie looked at Bin and yourself and laid down on the makeshift bed as he made himself known. At this point it’s so routine that you don’t even get startled. Hannie just turned you so you were now facing Bin, and Hannie dragged you to himself, gently of course.

“Hannie?” You groaned. You were so warm and all you could register was the feeling of being moved. You knew it was Hannie, you smirked to yourself as you waited for him to announce himself. Bin looked at the pair of you and couldn’t help but smile. This ritual that you and Hannie had was probably the cutest thing he has seen. The fact that it’s now routine is something that makes him so happy. The fact that all of the boys love you so much, it makes him not only proud of the boys, but it makes him happy to know that you will always have someone in your corner.

Han just whispers, “Mhm it’s me Anya, get some sleep, just holding you, that okay?” Forever the gentleman asking permission. You nodded and he pulled you in, the last thing you remembered was the momentary cold of the comforter as you were being pulled. All that you registered after that was the rumble of the warm chest behind you as he spoke softly to Bin. After that you passed back out instantaneously.

“How did she sleep?” Han asked. He was worried about how the first night went. He didn’t want you to feel crowded, which is why he slept on Lix’s floor, no comforter but he packed his sleeping bag in his overnight bag so he had no problem sleeping there.

“Good, I think.” Bin responded. Luckily Bin slept a little better, but he wouldn’t tell anyone about the sudden episodes, waking with a need to feel you close to him. The last thing he remembers of the nightmares being images of Chris trying to get to you. Some being of you unmoving, or of you willingly letting go of him. Those times he was so grateful that you wanted him to be in the bed with you. He’d immediately feel you close and he'd pass back out, not needing to open his eyes.

“That’s good.” Han said. He could see it in Bin’s eyes. He’s been friends with him for almost a decade, in a lot of ways they grew up together, Bin may be good at hiding, but not good enough to hide from Han. “So are you going to tell me what is going on in your head now, hyung?” Han looked down, petting your hair back as he waited for the answer.

“Just trust me when I say you don’t want any of the ideas implanted in your head, Han. I know I am not okay right now. As soon as she starts therapy, I’m going right after her,” Bin’s face was hard as he looked at Han, if he didn’t have that scowl on his face, he knew he’d collapse. “I’m sorry I scared you earlier… I should have more composure than I did.” Han knew exactly what he was talking about. Han was terrified in that waiting room, seeing Bin’s entire demeanor shift. His happy, funny, go lucky brother… just gone, replaced with anger, pain, suffering incarnate.

Han looked at him, “I’m not going to lie, it did terrify me, you meant every word of what you said.” He saw Bin’s eyebrows drop, his lips went from tight to relaxed, almost downturned as his jaw clenched momentarily, his mouth opened in a tiny breath. Han continued, “But you also need to know that your reaction is justified. You had and still have every right to be enraged. It’s not your fault that all of this happened. Chris is a manipulator, he had this show well rehearsed. We didn’t see it. We all didn’t see it Bin. So please don’t blame yourself, because it’s just like what Y/N told Minho, we aren’t responsible for another man’s actions.”

“I don’t know why he did it. I keep on racking my brain. She did everything possible to make him happy. She tore herself apart for him.” Changbin always had that in the back of his head whenever he had time to himself. Even if he was just using the restroom, he couldn’t fathom why. That was when Changbin realized, anything you did, wasn't going to be enough. You already gave him so much yet he just didn't care. He wanted more, like a black hole in your life. You can never fill a glass with a hole in the bottom.

Han said, “The why doesn’t matter. What matters is her.” He tilted his head to you, “I got a call from management, they’re giving us two months off. Apparently Chris let them know what happened.” Bin’s jaw opened and Han cut him off before a syllable could be uttered, “I asked them specifically what he said, they told me. The story he gave checked out. He told them the truth. Which honestly scares me more, Bin.” Changbin’s heart dropped once he heard that. “Oh God. Okay. I’ll talk to PR and see what the plan is.” He responded. “I’ll do it later though. I… we just need peace right now. I need to go out. Get her some sanitary items and I’m going to grab more medicine, a heating pad, all of that.” This isn’t Bin’s first rodeo, he has an older sister who basically taught him everything about the reproductive system. Bin has also shared a bathroom with you for years so he already knows your size, your flow throughout it, all of it.

Since you were now cuddling Han, Changbin is now free. Knowing he had a few things to do he grabbed his overnight bag and opened it. Grabbing his shower gel, toothbrush, change of clothes and his razor. Bin hasn’t ever been more excited to shower and shave. He hasn’t done things like that since the morning of when it happened.

He headed to the shower and set up. As he undressed his mind was blank. He was focused on getting you what you need and coming back as quickly as possible. Bin was in the shower for a while, letting it seep into his bones. He could feel the sensation start in his throat. The recognizable tightness in his throat, his heart heavier than the previous time he had this urge. His breathing ragged, he wondered what he could’ve done differently, he didn’t want to lose you. Logically, he knew he wouldn't. But would you hold it against him for not saying anything about what he was feeling about the marriage? Would you hate him? He could hear you laugh and see your smile as his chest tightened. He saw all of the looks on your face that night and the pain that he tried to quell. He tried to remind himself that this isn’t his fault. He couldn’t hold it in anymore as he let the sobs rack his body silently. He focused on the sound of the water hitting all around him in the shower.

After letting some of it out. He looked up, letting the water rain down on him. It allowed him to breathe. He felt better after he finished his shower. As soon as he looked in the mirror on the wall just above the sink he realized something. Changbin hasn’t looked in a mirror in days. His eyes always focused on you. He wiped the steam away as he saw himself. His face dusted with the beginnings of a 5 o’clock shadow, his hair wet and already looking a little curly. He also noticed the slightest bags under his eyes, which didn’t surprise him. He reminisced at how obsessed you were over his curls.

You yourself helped him with his hair routine when you noticed how crunchy the curls were. You ran to the store to get all the necessary hair products and you taught him how to relax the curls and not fight them. He looked at the products laid out in front of him smiling. After he styled his hair he headed out.

It was maybe an hour later that the house came back to life, well relatively. Han wanted you to sleep as much as possible so he scolded whoever came in and made too much noise. It was only so long Minho could hold out though, so he decided to make Hotteok, a close to American pancake filled with sugar, walnuts, and cinnamon. For yours he put in extra things like dark chocolate, berries, and mango, for your iron count. Everyone else got the basic version. Which Han grumbled about but Minho just ignored him. As Han went to the restroom you stirred at the sounds and smells in the kitchen. You felt behind you for Han and you didn’t find him, so you reached in front of you, knowing Binnie was there, but he wasn’t.

You opened your eyes reluctantly as you got your bearings. You couldn’t really grasp that Bin could possibly be out but all you know is that your nose is still a little sensitive. For some reason you are craving Changbin’s scent. It happened a few times when you were carrying, but the urge was never this bad. You needed to smell his fresh scented cologne and the slight hint of him, the perfect combo you’d always get when you’d nestle into his neck.

You tried smelling his pillow, the scent too faint to quench your craving. You smelled the comforter and it wasn’t near enough for you. Then you saw him. You grabbed the plush and buried your face in it. It was exactly what you needed, taking a deep breath in and relaxing. You got up slowly, your body still sore. You grunted as you finally made it to your feet. You heard Minho humming in the kitchen and decided on going there.

Minho could hear the pattering of bare feet behind him. Then your sleepy voice spoke out, “MinMin?” Minho turned around and smiled softly at you, then he noticed what was in your hands.

“Beautiful? Why are you holding Gyu?” he asked as he worked on filling the pancakes.

You replied in the smallest voice, “Smells like him. Where’s Binnie?” Minho’s face softened hearing you say that. All of the boys knew that your cravings were still ongoing but it was something new that you craved smells too,well, to Minho at least. You had this problem even when you were still carrying, you would enlist Seungmin’s help. Seungmin’s scent was something you were obsessed with in the first month. Seungmin, of course being the friend he is, researched why you needed to smell him, finding that yes scents are a part of pregnancy cravings. Some days you would just ask to smell him and he had no problem coming over just for you to cuddle up to him on the couch for a few hours, unintentionally rolling around in his grip like a cat rolls in catnip. Whenever Seungmin caught you doing that he would poke fun at you, but in all honesty it was the cutest thing he’s seen.

“Changbin went out to get you some things. He should be back soon.”

“Ok… what are you making?” You asked as you tried to see what he was up to.

“Breakfast, I’m making yours with mango, berries, and dark chocolate.” He said as you smiled excitedly. You heard Han’s voice behind you, “I told you not to wake her, hyung.”

As soon as you turned around Han’s heart melted as he said, “Wh-What are you doing with Gyu, Anya??” You could tell Han was three seconds away from squealing and waking up the house officially.

You answered in a tiny voice, realizing that you probably look very cute, hugging Gyu to your chest and still in pajamas. “Gyu smells like him… Waiting for my Binnie to come home.” You buried your face into Gyu as you looked up at Hannie.

“How are you this CUTE?!” Han squealed.

Minho immediately said, “YAH keep it DOWN!”

That made you giggle uncontrollably as you sniffed Gyu. Han ran out of the kitchen and came back with his phone, “Can I take a picture? You are too cute right now.”

You nodded, and just like that the picture was taken as you rubbed your eyes with one hand, making Hannie coo at the picture. He went into the group chat (Obviously without Chris in it.)

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bartxnhood · 2 years ago

Text

all the stars | atwow

| sully!family x fem!sully!reader

summary: based on this request.

warnings: reading feeling insecure, crying, jake and neytiri being the best parents to you

word bank: skxawng- idiot. ite- daughter. sa’nok - mother. itetsyip - little daughter(endearing). mawey - calm.

a/n: hi my lovies !! this is my first ever avatar piece so i’m so very sorry if it isn’t entirely accurate. i also haven’t seen twow yet (but i’ve basically had the entire movie spoiled so😭) so, im always open for criticism and feedback. also this didn’t go in the direction i wanted it to but i still hope you all enjoy this one <3

not proofread

requests open

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growing up as a sully had its hardships. you were different from the other na’vi people because of who your father was. they saw you differently, you had an extra finger, and you were slightly shorter than your siblings and the people in your village.

but, it never stopped your family from loving you unconditionally. jake was your number one supporter, as his firstborn daughter he was highly protective of you but he gave you the freedom you deserved because he knew you could handle yourself and he always kept an eye out for you.

neytiri, your mother was strong, brave, and capable of anything she had to do. you took a lot after her, you were skilled when it came to hunting. she taught you everything you knew. she was so proud to be your mother, to have you as her daughter. you were the most beautiful thing she had done.

you were very close with your siblings. growing up, you were still young with lo’ak was born but with kiri and tuk you would always play with them, you were the big sister everyone dreamed of.

with neteyam, it was different. sure, he may be older but you were always a helping hand if he needed you. or, if he was having a hard time he always came to you. he took care of you as an older brother should, but sometimes he just needs a shoulder to lean on.

“y/n!” tuk cheered as you walked back to your home, you had gone out with kiri for a while to enjoy nature and help your sister find some items for her jewelry making. “tuk-tuk!” you beamed as she ran into your arms. “i made you something!” she handed you a piece of jewelry she had made, “oh my, ewya, this is gorgeous!” you grinned, “thank you” she watched as you put the piece on and she giggled. “so pretty!” tuk left your embrace, leading you back home where you were met with the rest of your family.

on one occasion, lo’ak, neteyam, and your father went out to hunt for a while but when they returned you knew the atmosphere was dull. mostly coming from lo’ak, you felt his sadness. “did he yell at you again?” you pulled lo’ak to the side he nodded, hanging his head low. “i’ll talk with him, okay?” you smiled, bringing your younger brother into a hug. “stay out of trouble, skxawng” the both of you laughed.

you were the daughter and sister they adored.

though, when you arrived at the metkayina clan things shifted. you weren’t as happy as you used to be, and it was hard adjusting to the different lifestyle. it didn’t help how the people saw you as a demon, often making comments on your appearance.

of course, you changed. you were slowly beginning to hate yourself.

“ma ite” your ears perked up, whipping your head around to find your mother who was approaching. “sa’nok” you answered, looking down at the sand. “what is wrong my child?” she questioned, coming by your side. it was late into the night, you weren’t able to sleep. you were tired of being alone with your mind so, you decided to get up and sit for a while in attempts to clear your head.

your family had moved to the oceanside in hopes of refuge. unlike the others, you felt alone. compared to the forest this was all so different, you missed playing in the trees, laying in the lush forest grass with your siblings. getting used to the sand and water was different, but oh was it beautiful.

the others noticed how you were different they’d poke fun at your height, your hands, your fingers, and your hair. it hurt, you’d stay up every night wondering if you were the problem.

were you that much of a disappointment to your family?

you shrugged, turning and facing the sea. “i don’t know, mother” you lied, fidgeting with your fingers. “just could not sleep” you felt her hand rest on your shoulder, of course, you knew that she knew something was wrong. it was your mother, she knew everything. “something is troubling you” you nodded, pursing your lips. “what is it, my child?” tears welled in your eyes, ears flattened as you looked at your lap. “i’m alien. everyone hates me.”

neytiri felt her heartbreak, seeing you like this and thinking people could hate you. how could anyone hate her special girl? she pulled you close to her, resting her head on yours as you quietly sobbed into her chest “oh..itetsyip” she cooed, brushing your hair behind your ear.

“what’s going on?” jake emerges from the hut after hearing a bit of commotion. you both raised your head turning back to find your father. his eyes scanned you, and seeing your puffy eyes he went into full dad mode. then, he looked at neytiri and they held eye contact for a moment.

you weren’t okay.

“what’s wrong, babygirl?” he asked, coming to your side. you felt a lump in your throat when he asked, all this time you had been bottling it up and now, you were about to explode. “i’m so tired” you cried, falling into his arms. jake held you tightly, neytiri rubbing your back gently, “shhh, mawey mawey.” your mother hushed your cries.

“i’m sorry if i’m a disappointment, father. i’m trying my hardest” you cried into his arms. you weren’t able to take the pain much longer. you began to hate yourself. “look at me.” he pulled you from his embrace, holding your face. “you are not a disappointment. i don’t want you to ever say that about yourself again, okay?”

as a father, you’d never want to hear your children say they were a disappointment. you were the greatest thing jake ever did. “yes sir” you nodded, wiping away your tears. “my daughter.” neytiri grabbed your attention, wiping away your tears. “ewya blessed me with the honor of being your mother.” she smiled sadly, “more than all of the stars in the sky, you are so loved. ma y/n” she pressed a kiss on the top of your head.

“let us go to bed now, it is late.” she stood up, reaching for your hands and jake followed suit.

#avatar x reader #jake sully x reader #neytiri x reader #lo’ak x reader #neteyam x reader #kiri x reader #tuktirey #avatar imagine #avatar the way of water #atwow fanfiction #sully family #na’vi reader #y/n #avatar family #neteyam x na'vi!reader #jake sully x daughter #lo’ak x sister!reader

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shepherds-of-haven · 1 month ago

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Hello! You’ve talked before about having experience with professional writing/publishing, so you seem like a good person to ask. I’ve seen authors say that they avoid reading/interacting with fanfiction of their work due to “possible legal issues,” but I’m not actually sure what law they’re referring to. Is this something that you’re familiar with, or advice you’ve come across before? Why would fanfiction be an issue if something like fanart isn’t? Thank you in advance if you have the time to answer!

Hi there, thanks for your question! This is actually something I've had a lot of interest in over the years, partly because I (at one point) was planning on going to law school to potentially become a copyright/intellectual property lawyer, and partially because I have some personal connections to things that happened in this arena (my agent was the agent of an affected author at some point in the past, my publisher or senior editors knew so-and-so), and also, I grew up reading fanfiction, so I've heard concerns on both sides of this issue.

To boil it down succinctly, there is no outright law that prevents authors from reading fanfiction of their own work. However, doing so can become messy in ways that many authors would rather avoid, and there is one famous example of where this went awry and scared authors off of reading fanworks of their own work.

In the US, all authors automatically gain copyright and intellectual ownership over their writing/original content, from the moment they put it into physical form (writing it or typing it). They don't have to do anything to register this right: it just automatically exists, and with it comes a few special rights.

Authors have the right to:

Reproduce or make copies of their work

Distribute copies of their work to the public, in whichever manner they choose (sell, rent, etc.)

Publicly display or perform the work (post, print, act, etc.)

Create derivative works from that work (sequels, adaptations, spin-offs)

License or sell any of these rights to others.

(It should be noted that copyright applies to specific expressions, not ideas. The specific details of your work, including the plot, characters, worldbuilding, text, and other unique aspects are protected. General ideas, tropes, themes, or concepts are not. A story about a magical school, a "chosen one" protagonist who discovers hidden powers as he gets older, or a bearded mentor who's killed at some point in the story are tropes that can't be copyrighted. However, a magical school with a specific personality-based house system, or a bespectacled dark-haired boy with a lightning-shaped scar, can. This isn't just a name thing, either, but covers features like personalities, unique characteristics, and character arcs. Hence "expression" versus "idea." Universal Studios even has a trademark on their specific expression of Frankenstein's monster (flat-top head, bolts in his neck, lumbering walk) - but that's only because the original copyright on Frankenstein itself has lapsed.)

Anyway, so authors have rights over their intellectual property. Pretty simple, right? Except, under this field of law, that means other people--including people who make fanworks--don't have the technical rights to this intellectual property. (They definitely don't have the right to make money off of it, unless they receive permission.) Because fanworks like fanfiction use protected elements like characters, worlds, and terms, they're derivative works, which technically only the author of the work has the right to create.

(Since I'm trying to keep my answer brief, you can read more about derivative works below the cut.) [1]

Many authors explicitly allow fan-made derivative works (aka fanfiction and fanart) of their fiction to be made anyway, with some obvious disclaimers (don't make money off of it, don't claim the original author wrote it, etc.). However, others are under the impression (or have been advised legally) that granting this permission could hurt them in the long run. They've been led to believe that if they don't "vigorously defend their own copyright," they will lose that copyright and all the rights that go with it (including say over how their work is used, where the profit goes, etc.). They believe they could lose in court if someone else plagiarizes them or steals their work and profits from it or uses their work in a way that they don't agree with (like depicting their popular character as homophobic); they will have no legal recourse, because they gave others permission to make derivative works of their story. I don't know how well-founded this fear is in a historical precedent sense, but I know it's rampant especially among older authors in the industry (for reasons I'll get into below), and I also know that legal battles do get really messy if it's not just "I said no, unequivocally, but you did it anyway." Granting permission in some cases (fanfiction) but not others (fanfiction that upsets you, or conflicts with your moral convictions, or hurts your product or its sales, or unfairly makes money off of your property) creates a really gray area in court, so some authors prefer just not to take chances and will blanket-ban derivative works of their stuff unequivocally.

(For a useful page on which authors explicitly encourage fanworks and which ones outright ban it, click here.)

Now, even for the authors who allow fan-made derivative works of their writing (which includes me!), there are many who are leery of actually reading it. Why? Long story short, this is referred to in the industry as the MZB incident.

I've heard different accounts of this story, but I'll boil it down to the bullet points that I know of:

In the 1980s, an author named Marion Zimmer Bradley (who is coincidentally (?) a horrid, awful criminal for other reasons) was a popular fantasy author who was extremely involved in her own fanfiction community. She actively encouraged fanfiction of her world and stories, and even edited a fanzine based off of this world, and was an overall enthusiastic and friendly collaborator and mentor to burgeoning fic writers, whom she invited to play in her setting as a sandbox. She was considered to be one of the biggest public champions of fanfiction at the time.

In one version of the story, a fan, Jean Lamb, sent one of her fanfics (published in a fanzine) to MZB. Some time later, the fan noticed that MZB was writing a new novel that had thematic and plot similarities to her own fanfic. The fan alleged that MZB had plagiarized her ideas, and fearing a potential legal battle, MZB stopped writing that book, developed writer's block, and never did work on that series ever again. This was a horrifying cautionary tale to all authors who witnessed it and essentially spelled the end of that fictional world (Darkover) for good.

In another version of the story, MZB received a copy of the fanzine from Jean Lamb, saw that Jean's story coincidentally focused on a character and time period that MZB herself was focusing on for her upcoming sequel, and she was stopped from continuing on the book by her publisher, who feared legal troubles. (This one is the one that makes the least sense to me, and I've personally heard it from others that this was not how things went down.)

In the last version of the story, MZB received a copy of the fanzine from Jean Lamb, really liked the ideas or interpretations she saw in it, and wanted to incorporate elements into the series' official canon, writing back to ask for permission to do this, like, "Hey, I really liked your take on so-and-so, can I put that in the new book with credit to you in the dedication and 500$?" She had apparently done this with other willing fans before. However, rather than the honored response she was expecting, Jean Lamb wrote back asking for more money and co-authorship on the cover, and MZB apparently got leery that if any similarities to the idea cropped up in her writing in the future, the whole thing would tailspin legally and she'd be accused of plagiarism. In short, the well had been tainted, and you can't just "forget" you saw a cool idea, and the fan knows you saw it, so if they get a whiff that the cool idea influenced you even in subconscious ways, they could be entitled to compensation. Or maybe just being "banned" from writing something in her own world because someone else claimed ownership to it soured MZB on the whole thing. Either way, she quit writing the series and banned all fanfiction of her work soon after.

The MZB was a big hullabaloo in both the professional author world and the fanfiction community at the time, and it's principally cited as the main reason why authors shouldn't read fanfiction of their own work. (You can read George R.R. Martin's summation of the story and why he doesn't allow fanfiction because of it below the cut.) There's a fear that if you accidentally get exposed to something--an interpretation, an idea, a take on your character or world--it becomes really unclear whose idea is whose, and the copyrights could overlap, and then you'll lose ownership over your own world, story, and characters. Even if you don't officially "incorporate" a fan's idea into the work like MZB allegedly wanted to, but instead come up with something on your own or were planning it all along, but it's known you also read fanfiction of your own work, there is no way of proving that you were already planning on doing the thing or were inspired by something totally different; a bad actor could claim you read their fanfic at some point and plagiarized it, so many authors choose to avoid the whole headache and protect themselves by just not reading fanfiction of their work at all, so as to not muddy the waters. [3]

I hope that all makes sense! This is already getting long, but I'll just wrap up by adding that I wrote all of this to answer your question--why some authors prefer not to read fanfiction of their own work--but I will add that I'm personally on the side of authors who support fanfiction and fanart (so long as no one's out to harm the original creator), and that I hope never to be proven wrong! :D

[1] Derivative works can in turn be protected under something called "fair use law." "Fair use" is generally broken down into four considerations:

Purpose and character of the derivative work. Things like parody, scholarship, commentary, and critique are protected are under fair use law. Also, things like whether the derivative work is non-commercial or transformative are also taken into consideration. A transformative work that significantly alters the characters and world of the original work (so how 50 Shades of Grey was ultimately totally different from Twilight, even though it started off as Twilight fanfiction) could be considered fair use. Likewise, if someone posts a free fanfic on, like, their Livejournal somewhere, it clearly isn't intending to hurt anyone or make a profit off of someone else's work, so it might be protected. This first consideration is generally the largest "protection" fanfiction has in the area of fair use, though it's hugely subjective and a matter of great debate: fanworks are by no means something that's unilaterally protected. But in short, if the purpose of a derivative work is not to profit from something, but to add new insight or transform it in some way instead of just ripping it off word-for-word for profit, it may be allowed under fair use.

Nature of the original work. A highly creative original work (like a novel or a film) is due more copyright protection than something like a newspaper article.

Amount and substantiality. If fanfiction uses substantial portions of the original work, especially the "heart" of it (such as key characters or plotlines), it is less likely to be considered fair use. If 30% of your work is just original text from the copyrighted work, your derivative fanwork may not be considered fair use.

Effect upon market's value. If a fanwork or fanfiction becomes competitive or harmful with the original work in any way, especially in a commercial sense (for example, fans are less likely to buy official sequels or licensed works because the niche is being filled by a fanfic), it probably won't be protected under fair use.

Even with all of this, there has been no case law that squarely addresses fanfiction in relation to fair use: it's all been judged by a case-by-case basis only. From this article: "works of fanfiction are more likely to constitute fair use if they are "transformative" with respect to the original work, if they are non-commercial, if they appropriate relatively little of the original work, and/or if they do not tend to detract from the potential market for or value of the original work."

Want some more interesting ways about the whacky ways fiction and fanfiction have intersected with the gray areas of fair use? Check out:

The My Immortal Memoir

The Larry Niven incident (and other legal issues with fanfiction)

Ship It, a fictional novel based on a real-life incident in the Supernatural fandom where a fanfic writer/shipper got shut down by one of the Supernatural actors when she asked him about homoerotic subtext in Supernatural... it's Ficception!

[2] GRRM's summary of the MZB incident in 2010:

Myself, I think the writers who allow fan fiction are making a mistake. I am not saying here that the people who write fan fiction are evil or immoral or untrustworthy. The vast majority of them are honest and sincere and passionate about whatever work they chose to base their fictions on, and have only the best of intentions for the original author. But (1) there are always a few, in any group, who are perhaps less wonderful, and (2) this door, once opened, can be very difficult to close again.

Most of us laboring in the genres of science fiction and fantasy (but perhaps not Diana Gabaldon, who comes from outside SF and thus may not be familiar with the case I am about to cite) had a lesson in the dangers of permitting fan fiction a couple of decades back, courtesy of Marion Zimmer Bradley. MZB had been an author who not only allowed fan fiction based on her Darkover series, but actively encouraged it... even read and critiqued the stories of her fans. All was happiness and joy, until one day she encountered in one such fan story an idea similar to one she was using in her current Darkover novel-in-progress. MZB wrote to the fan, explained the situation, even offered a token payment and an acknowledgement in the book. The fan replied that she wanted full co-authorship of said book, and half the money, or she would sue. MZB scrapped the novel instead, rather than risk a lawsuit. She also stopped encouraging and reading fan fiction, and wrote an account of this incident for the SFWA FORUM to warn other writers of the potential pitfalls of same.

That was twenty years ago or thereabouts, but that episode had a profound effect on me and, I suspect, on many other SF and fantasy writers of my generation.

[3] It would be like if a fan sent the Hunger Games author a fanfic that involved Katniss and Peeta's kids, Suzanne Collins was already in the midst of writing or was planning to write a sequel with Katniss and Peeta's kids, the two stories had significant overlap, and now Suzanne Collins feels like she can't publish the sequel as-is without either significantly redoing things just for the sake of being different from the fanfiction, or being accused of plagiarism by the fan. Better, in Suzanne Collins' mind, to never come into contact with fanfiction at all, and have both plausible deniability and an untainted well.

#writing #writing tips #copyright #fanfiction #writing advice

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vemuabhi · 9 months ago

Text

I want a Boyfriend

Its march 2nd aka Sanji’s birthday everyone! (IST)

Happy Birthday Mr. Prince. My Crush of all time, My boyfriend in my dreams.

Hey Peeps! Please read the below story of mine and comment/reblog your opinions. I hope you like it!

Modern Universe

Pairing : Sanji X Reader

Warnings : Noting but fluff! Happy ending!

Word Count : 1.2K

I was listening to Selena Gomez - Boyfriend

Summary - Zoro plays Wingman!!

“Why can’t I find a date?”, you wined for the 5th time making a certain green head to get triggered.

“Oh Shut up Shut up Shut up!”, he leaned back on his chair hands still lingering on the laptop before him.

“What can I do? I am getting desperate. Especially after-”

“The Last situationship, you said it multiple times. I feel like I’m about to explode if you keep on doing this”, he huffed as you continued to work on your laptop.

Zoro, your colleague who became your best friend way too quickly. Though he seemed aloof and cold, he was a sweetheart who cares deeply and that was one of the reasons why you got attached to him. In the beginning he tried to make you talk with some of the guys in the office in a friendly way but you didn’t feel interested. Sure you were disparate but not ready to make mistakes again like you did in your previous relation and situation ships.

Leading on and giving false hope wasn’t how you dealt. Even if it was harsh, you preferred it and would prefer it if some thing of that sort happened to you.

“How many times have I introduced you to those other guys. And did you even try?”, he side eyed you then resumed to work. The way even after trying to make you meet new people, you didn’t even try but still complained made him irritated.

“Zoro, I’m sorry about that but… I didn’t find a connection with them, so I didn’t want to waste anyone’s time”.

Looking at your sad but sincere eyes he sighed and shook his head. “Whatever. Don’t be sad now”.

You gained back your smile at the grumpy man because he was so sweet to you. Though he was always mad he was a kind soul. Not all can know about that until they get to know him.

“I need a boyfrie-”

“GOD!”, he rolled his eyes at you as you chuckled, being happy that you managed to piss him off.

****

That day at lunch, Zoro was a bit late to join you because he was on a call. He furrowed his brows at you as you gave him a smirk.

“What?”

“Seems like you have a secret girl you’ve been talking to huh~~ What’s her name?”

“What girlf-… Ah… its not a girl, I was talking to a guy”

“That’s alright, I don’t judge. Who’s that guy?”

“HEY!! NO!! Shut it and eat. Its my roommate. He was telling me to take out the trash”

“Oh… I thought atleast my friend was in a relationship”.

“Like hell I don’t need any rig- Wait… look at this picture”, Zoro stopped eating and showed you a DP of a guy in his personal chat. That was a side profile of a man with cigarette between his lips. He looked pretty good.

“Yeah he looks nice, what about it?”

“Now eat this”, he picked up his spoon and handed it to you. You ate it and the flavours of the food felt divine on your tongue. Your mind tried to keep you sane but your heart had other plans and you grabbed his food and started to eat it making him to hit you, then you stopped.

“Sorry, animal instincts”, you gulped as you returned to your plate. It was good but Zoro’s food was on another level.

“Yeah, people who eat my food turn into animals. I noticed that”

“Never knew you could cook this well, Aish… Zoro I have a question”

“Yeah?”

“Zoro lets go out”, your words made the latter to almost choke on his food.

“Wait wait. Nothing romantic. Just that… you make me food and I sit pretty”

“Jerk… you want food. We don’t have to be in a relationship for that. And I didn’t make it”. You got curious about this. It seemed that zoro’s roommate was the one who made this. His name was Sanji and he was a chef.

“I was thinking of introducing him to you, that’s why I called him earlier”, Zoro averted his gaze from you, “But if you only want too of course. I like how you don’t lead anyone on. If it is okay, then go ahead with him”. A small chuckle left your lips and you nodded in agreement.

You got Sanjis number and as soon as you messaged him hi, you got a reply. You mentioned to him that you were still in office and you both agreed to call after your logout.

Your mind was going apeshit, what waws going on?!! You were getting nervous to talk to the handsome man that Zoro introduced you to. Logout time seemed longer than usual because you were waiting for it.

“Idiot, work first. Then you’ll be able to lose track of time”, motivational words from zoro helped a lot and soon, it was time to call Sanji.

You stood at the entrance of the company and fiddled with your phone. Hands were getting clammy with the stress. Looking at your misery, Zoro sighed and snatched your phone hitting the call option in the process.

“Hello”

A soft husky voice made you to take a deep breath and respond. The first few minutes of the call were a bit slow and awkward but by the time you reached home, you were both laughing and having a great time. Ending the call seemed to be hurting the both of you, which never happened in your past. No matter how excited you were, the other person was never happy with you being yourself. Clingy, immature, talkative and loud, were the words that stuck with you from your past. Though you tried to make sure to not show those traits, you wanted to hide, couldn’t while you spoke with Sanji. Wonder how this happened. Maybe because Sanji was a type to make anyone feel comfortable around him.

Two weeks have passed and the conversations kept getting better and better. You both wanted to meet each other.

“I want to see you”, words slipped out of your mouth making Sanji to become silent.

“I’ll meet you soon”, he said as a smile formed on his lips.

The next day, when you and Zoro got out of the office, you noticed that someone was standing beside Zoro’s bike. You looked at the slender form with a cigarette and your heart skipped a beat. You could hear your heart beating faster.

“Oye Shitty Cook! Why are you here?!!”, Zoro went towards Sanji.

“Marimo!! Don’t you-”, the blond’s words stopped as he noticed you. He walked and stood right infront of you. You both talked on Video calls but, seeing him in person made a shit ton of difference. You could notice how tall he was, his expressions, his red cheeks and most importantly, his blue eyes. His hands reached to yours and laced with your fingers. He smelled like sandalwood. Which made you feel warm.

‘I think he didn’t light his cigarette’, you thought. was It was just a few days since you both talked but, you both felt like you were ready to date.

“Should we go on a date?”

His question made you to smile and nod frantically. “I thought you’d never ask”

“Oh, I wanted to ask this when we met, not over phone”, his right hand travelled to your cheek.

“You sometimes… are cliché”

“Don’t you like it?”, he raised his eyebrow with a smirk. Damn… he aint lying.

Reblogs and Comments are always appreciated!!

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stellar-solar-flare · 3 months ago

Text

A Fairytale Of A Disaster | S.R.

Chapter 1: So Much For Prince Charming?

Explicit - 18+ only - Steve Rogers/Doctor!Reader

Your friend set you up with a perfect guy. Unfortunately, when it's time for you to meet 'Grant' for the first time, he has stood you up. On Valentine's Day of all days.

Was it too good to be true? Or does he instead have a very, very good reason why he's late, and a desire to make it all up to you?

FIC MASTERLIST | AUTHOR MASTERLIST | AO3

Fluff, hurt/comfort, meet-cute, misunderstandings, eventual smut, healthy communication. | Background Sam Wilson/OFC.

Chapter Word Count: 3364 words.

Reader Specifics: She/her, late twenties (a few years younger than Steve in this fic). Training to be a trauma surgeon (has completed med school, in residency stage). Likes books and houseplants. No description of appearance (other than clothes and such), no use of Y/N.

A/N: I wanted to write a Valentine's Day oneshot, and then it turned out it has parts. Oh no. Well, here we are. I hope you enjoy this fluffy little trope collection! As always, thank you for reading, and hearing what you think means a lot to me.

Alternate Universe: The Avengers Initiative continued SHIELD's work after its collapse to corruption. The Avengers are living together in the Compound - Bucky has healed, and Civil War never happened because Tony and Steve worked through their differences like adults.

I do not own anything Marvel related. This is an unofficial fan work. No copyright infringement intended. This is a work of fiction. Any similarity to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events, is purely coincidental.

Chapter 1: So Much For Prince Charming?

Of course Grant — if that was his name — had been too good to be true. Of course he had.

You were never agreeing to a blind date again, no matter the persistence of the person suggesting it. True, Nurse Brooke was a force of nature when she had her mind set on something, but you still weren’t sure what had gotten into you. She’d struck at just the right moment, as you’d been sitting in the dressing room exhausted and elated after long hours in the OR, operating on a patient under the watchful eye of your attending surgeon. You’d been feeling great about your success, feeling like you’d actually be a real doctor one of these days, and that was when Brooke had begun to talk about the friend of the guy she was seeing.

True, it had been the beginning of February, with everyone talking about their Valentine’s Day plans; perhaps all that gooey pink syrup in the air had somehow made its way through your ear drums and into your brain. Even as you very well knew it didn’t work that way, the idea seemed comforting. At least more comforting than the reality that due to your own actions, you were now sitting here, in a fancy restaurant, in a pretty red dress, alone. Subject to looks that had been turning more and more sickeningly sympathetic as ten minutes had turned into twenty, then half an hour, and then finally an hour.

You weren’t even certain why you’d waited so long. Perhaps you’d wanted to believe that somehow this would take a turn for the better. That you hadn’t really gotten stood up. On Valentine’s Day of all days.

“Miss, I am very sorry,” your waitress came up to your table. “But as it unfortunately seems that the people the reservation was made for won’t be arriving; I’m going to have to ask you to give up the table.”

You nodded. Of course; some happy couple was waiting by the hostess’ stand. As angry and humiliated as you were feeling, the last people to blame were the wait staff — gods knew they dealt with enough on a day like this, without you lashing out at them for things that were not their fault at all. Your time here had already included bearing witness to no less than three proposals, some of which had certainly involved the wait staff slipping rings into desserts or glasses of champagne.

“Of course,” you said, digging out cash to pay for the two drinks and the appetizer you’d had while waiting for ‘Grant’, and leaving a nice tip on top of that.

You eyed the bar side of the restaurant as you did. You’d gone through the trouble of getting dolled up and coming here; you’d arranged this night and tomorrow to be free of work, which wasn’t an easy feat to do in the ER. You might as well enjoy some more substantial food at the bar, and maybe a drink or two, before going home and eating a nice tub of ice cream and envisioning dying alone surrounded by houseplants.

Well. Look on the bright side. You were never dating again after this disaster — you might as well get married to your job. And once you were done with your residency and fellowship, you’d at least have a nice pile of money to leave for your plant babies. That was something.

You took a quick trip to the ladies’ room to ensure you weren’t looking as miserable as you felt, and then hoisted yourself onto a bar chair, asking for the menu from the bartender even before you finished sitting down. She slid it across the glossy wooden surface for you, and you dug in your purse for your phone for the millionth time since you’d arrived.

Not one message from Grant. Of course. Why would there have been, after all this time had already passed? Brooke hadn’t messaged either; you hadn’t really expected that she would have, but still. As much as you didn’t wish that her own plans had been wrecked, it would’ve made sense if Samuel, the guy she was seeing, had had to take Grant to the hospital, or something. You thought about texting her, but rejected the idea so as to not bother her. If it had been anyone but the always cheerful, kind Brooke, you would’ve suspected you were being played for some joke; she’d been the one to suggest it. Oh, you know, Samuel has this friend who’s a great guy, a few years older than you. I think you two would hit it off. A great guy. For sure. You needed to ask Brooke if she was sure about her life choices, if her Samuel spent a lot of time around a guy who thought that standing you up like this was all fine and dandy.

The top message chain on your phone was still you and Mr. No-Show, and to add insult to injury, the last message there was you sending a mirror selfie of your outfit for the night, so that he could recognize you at the restaurant. You’d been talking for a few days, and you’d really thought you had been hitting off just like Brooke had predicted, but you didn’t know what Grant looked like. And he hadn’t asked for a picture of you, either — any sort of picture, which at the time, you’d thought of as a relief considering some of your experiences with online dating. In hindsight, that might have been a red flag, but the pink goo that had overtaken your brain had probably made you look at it through rose-colored glasses: this is a guy who wants to get to know me, who isn’t just after looks.

But apparently you’d been wrong. Or even worse, he hadn’t been just a skirt-chaser, but the sight of you in a red swing dress, with your makeup and hair done, had somehow turned him off from meeting you. That he’d changed his mind, even after the texts had been constantly flying back and forth between you, as you’d found every moment in your hectic schedule to reply to him. He’d asked you about your favorite books and you’d rattled off a long list of them; you’d asked him about his hobbies — art, reading, and exercising; he’d told you that he liked dogs and would like to have one one day when he had the time, and you’d responded with pictures of your plants. He hadn’t minded that residency was a wild, sometimes exhausting ride that took long hours of your time — in fact, he’d seemed quite interested in the fact that you’d chosen a career where you could help people, and gone after something so challenging.

He’d been straightforward but polite about the fact that he wasn’t just looking for a casual thing, that he considered himself pretty old-fashioned in that sense. He’d said he was somewhat new to dating but he didn’t want to date — he wanted to find the one for a committed relationship, to eventually get married. He’d told you about volunteering at a nursing home; he’d sent you pictures of the meals he’d cooked, placed on some pretty fancy stone countertop.

And he had actually asked you out to a real dinner once you’d been constantly talking for two days, not texted you at 2 AM asking if he could come over. After you had said that you would be delighted, he’d found the restaurant and booked a table, taking the initiative and the mental labor. He had offered to pick you up — very old-fashioned of him, indeed — and hadn’t made any sort of fuss when you’d politely declined his offer, telling him you weren’t comfortable with that before you’d met him face to face. His last message had arrived over six hours ago, five hours before the time you had been supposed to meet at the restaurant.

I'm really looking forward to meeting you tonight. What’s your favorite flower?

Roses are a classic, you’d told him. In your silliness, you had believed that he would not only show up but show up with flowers, that this guy who had talked about making some of his favorite recipes to you, who had argued with you for over twenty minutes of constant texting on the topic of the best horror movie ever made, who liked to wake up early so he could run in the sunrise and hear the birdsong, was actually real. Of course he hadn’t been, at least not to you. He’d asked all the things about you just to kill time — if he was real to begin with, someone like him was probably drowning in ladies, especially in a place like NYC. He’d just come across a better opportunity.

It stung. It really, really stung, after you’d gotten your hopes up so high. So much for Prince Charming. He’d been a frog like all the rest of them. No, there was nothing wrong with frogs; it was silly to compare a bad person to them. So much for a fairytale — instead you’d gotten a disaster.

In the dining room, another round of applause broke out — the fourth proposal of the night. You clapped along out of politeness, keeping your stinging eyes on your phone. Just because you were miserable, didn’t mean others needed to be.

Half an hour later, you had a nice plate of fish & chips and a nice glass of crisp white wine in front of you; both were doing wonders for your downtrodden spirits. Still, you didn’t dare to look at the dining room, where all the happy couples were gazing lovingly into each other’s eyes and sharing desserts. No point in twisting the knife.

You had exited the messaging app and were browsing around news sites to take your mind off everything. The stock market had gone up and down and sideways and wherever the stock market went; the Avengers Initiative had stopped a potential alien invasion in Antarctica; one of your favorite authors had announced a new book which you pre-ordered immediately; a man was convinced that the alien invasion had been foretold to him on a piece of toast he’d eaten last week; the court proceedings for a high-profile case had begun and were garnering quite the attention from the media; famous people had been doing all sorts of things that someone had deemed significant enough to be news.

Another day in the world. If you hadn’t already had those two drinks, you might have considered going back to the hospital and offering to let some poor soul out of their shift, but now you would have to find something else to do with your evening. You’d spent so much time this week telling Grant about all your favorite things and hobbies that right now, all of them seemed to leave a sour taste in your mouth when you thought about them.

You were just contemplating checking out what movies were running in the theater that was nearest to your home, when you heard a low male voice from behind you, calling your name in deep relief.

Grant. A sardonic part of you remarked that he at least existed. Even before you turned around, he continued speaking:

“Oh thank god, you’re still here, I am so sorry —“

He had arrived; not one message in almost two hours, and he had the audacity to just roll in like that. A part of you knew very well that all sorts of emergencies could happen — hell, the results of those emergencies were what you spent all day every day sorting out. Another part of you, the one that had been sitting here alone waiting, considered dumping your drink on his head and leaving without a word.

You curbed the drink-dumping instinct and spun around in your chair, speaking even before you’d completely turned around:

“You better have one hell of an explanation because you are almost two hours late without as much as a message to let —“

Then you got a look at him: a real look that killed the small voice in your head that asked if he was here now because his Plan A had not been successful. As you took him in, you realized that he might very well actually have the hell of an explanation that it would take for you to let him off the hook after this.

The tall, blond man standing in front of you was still wearing a dark blue, padded superhero suit that had all sorts of grime on it and a tear that looked an awful lot like claw marks on the left side of his chest. The shield that everyone recognized was strapped to his back.

“How’s being stuck closing a portal to another dimension so that nothing invades the planet through it?” he said, smiling just slightly, but you could see the uncertainty in his eyes.

Distantly, you realized that the sweet murmur of muted conversation had quieted down from around you, and even the sound of cutlery had ceased. It was eerily silent. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see that a guy who had been about to get on one knee had stopped half-way and was now swaying in an awkward position. The presence of any of the Avengers in the city wasn’t that unheard of, but the fact that one of them had just barged in like this, clearly coming straight from battling whatever fresh hell this day had thrown at him, was making people gawk.

At him. And by extension, at you, who had been observed enough over the time you’d been here, whispered compassionately about. That poor lady, getting stood up on Valentine’s Day. It turned out you hadn’t gotten stood up after all, and a tiny, tiny part of you was glad that the people who hadn’t been compassionate but had looked at you with that Oh thank god that’s not me, at least I’ve got someone obvious on their faces, were witnessing this now. Such vindictiveness was poison, so you let go of the idea after only a little gloating.

“Grant, huh?” you finally said, a smile tugging your mouth up.

“Among other things,” he smirked.

Grant. As in Steven Grant Rogers. As in Captain Steve Rogers, the Head Strategist of the Avengers Initiative that had kept up the good fight when SHIELD had fallen to corruption.

As in Captain America.

The way people were staring right now, you understood why he hadn’t disclosed his identity before this. Brooke had made some sly comment about how he had a public job so he was quite a private person.

“So, Nurse Brooke’s Samuel…” you said, wanting to thwap yourself on the forehead for not realizing.

“Sergeant Sam Wilson aka the Falcon,” Steve grinned, shaking his head. “Unfortunately, their plans went awry too. I would’ve messaged you but we had to leave really quickly, and I hadn’t saved your number to the cloud, only on my private phone. Which is back at the AI Campus on my kitchen countertop. So forgive me for letting you think I just blew you off.”

Strictly speaking, he probably could’ve asked Sam to text Brooke for your number, but on the other hand, with a literal alien invasion about to happen unless they stopped it, they had had other priorities. You understood. Steve had probably dropped straight out of the Quinjet onto the street to be here looking like that. You wondered what he’d told Sam and the others.

“It’s alright,” you murmured. “I know how it is sometimes.”

You didn’t, not for certain, but you had an inkling that trauma surgery was probably pretty close when it came to all kinds of things suddenly being thrown at you, pushing aside everything else and rearranging your priorities. No matter how much you had wanted to do the previous things you’d thought of.

“You would, wouldn’t you?” he said softly, looking at you. “So let me make it up to you?”

“I had to give up the table,” you said just as softly. “It's a busy night.”

His forehead creased in thought, and you could tell that he was devising a new strategy. His entrance had lacked any subtlety — here, people would just stare at the two of you like you were zoo animals, and even as you suspected that he would’ve stayed if you had asked him, you didn’t want that to be your first date.

Your first date with Captain America, a panicked voice piped up in the back of your head, and you squashed it down. He was just Steve. Steve had been the guy with whom you’d been constantly texting, not the superhero in a very, very impressive stealth mission suit in front of you. He was both, but to his date, he would want to be first and foremost Steve. Getting to know you, and letting you get to know him, before letting you in on his star-spangled secret had told you that much.

“The night is young, Steve,” you smiled at him, making a point to use his name and not the Captain that some different voice in your head wanted to softly roll off your tongue at the sight of him. “Let me just get my food packed to go and we’ll figure out what to do?”

The way the smile overtook his face at that made your heart do a flip in your chest.

“That sounds like a plan to me.”

You barely managed to muster the brain function required to turn around in your chair and ask the bar staff to get your food sorted out.

As you did, Steve stepped closer, stopping to stand next to your chair. If he hadn’t been covered in gods-knew-what, and if you hadn’t had quite an audience, he probably would’ve hugged you for a hello. Now, he instead just very, very gently brushed your bare upper arm with his thumb, sending electric shock down your arm. His hair was a mess, falling onto his forehead, but he was smiling like the sun itself.

“Thank you. For giving me another chance,” he murmured, low enough for only you to hear. “You look beautiful. I’m sorry I didn’t have a chance to grab the flowers. I’ll make that up to you too.”

“All the flower shops in Antarctica were probably closed at this hour, yeah,” you smiled at him over your wine glass, and he chuckled at your joke. “I appreciate the thought. It’s alright.”

He grinned. He was standing very close, and he smelled good. There was a hint of cedar-like aftershave and something like fresh air, as if the cold climate of Antarctica had gotten stuck on him, but underneath that there was a musky smell of him, one that made heat pool on the bottom of your stomach.

“How’d you feel if I took you to the compound and cooked something nice for us?” he asked. “If you are comfortable with that, of course. I’d take you out but I don’t think we can find a table tonight and I’m not exactly in a state to utilize one of the VIP rooms we might be able to get to. I’ll drive you back home at night, of course.”

He added the final sentence a little sheepishly, clearly not wanting you to think that he was inviting you over just so you could spend the night with him. You appreciated his thoughtfulness; it might be something he himself wasn’t comfortable with. But on the other hand, if he was comfortable, and if that was where this night would eventually lead… Then you had no objections.

And you certainly, certainly had no objection to enjoying a delicious meal with him that he had cooked himself. You took a long, centering gulp of your wine before you were able to answer.

“That sounds really nice, Steve.”

He met your gaze with a gentle, happy warmth in his eyes. And maybe, just maybe, this night might yet turn into the fairytale you’d been hoping for.

“Then let me call us a car.”

Next chapter >>

#steve rogers x reader #ssf fic: a fairytale of a disaster #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers x female reader

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flagbridge · 10 months ago

Text

Q&A: The Phantom Broadway Proshot

Happy 36th Birthday to Phantom of the Opera's opening night on Broadway! We should be celebrating at the Majestic. The show never should have closed.

In order to create "new" ish POTO Broadway content, @or-what-you-will and I promised to answer your questions about the proshot on POTO Broadway's birthday. Find our summary of the Proshot here.

We got dozens of questions, which we've consolidated into 14 questions. Read them all past the cut!

Wait, what’s the Phantom Proshot?

The Phantom Proshot is an archival copy of the original Broadway cast and production of Phantom of the Opera, filmed at the evening performance with a live audience on May 25, 1988. The New York Public Library, Theatre on Film and Tape Archive at the Performing Arts Library at Lincoln Center has archival copies of Broadway, Off-Broadway, and Regional theater going back to 1970. You can’t view currently running shows, so since Phantom ran for so long, it was under lock and key.

2. How do I see the Pro-Shot?

Pretty simple how to guide here on the NYPL website.

We are both NYPL cardholders and made a reservation in advance. You are required to state why you are accessing the recording as they exist for archival and research purpose. Both of us are published authors and researchers under our real names.

Here's a picture of the room we were in from NYPL's website. We had an appointment and were set up in a room with lots of monitors. We were seated at monitors next to each other with two sets of headphones and had one set of controls to pause/rewind etc. There are 20 monitors in the room and it was pretty full that day. This was not my first time at the TOFT and it’s always had a good number of people around.

3. Can someone get a boot of it/send me the link to it? Pleeeeease?

No. Seriously, stop asking about this. Stop joking about this. It’s not online, and never will be. All of the recordings are on digital media (videodiscs or DvDs) in the basement and only library staff get to touch them. Don’t be the person who tried to do this and ruins the archive for everyone else. You can’t even bring electronic devices into the room.

4. Why won’t they release it to the public? And who the heck does it benefit to keep this locked away?

It isn’t. It was locked away when the show was actually running. It is available to the public. We are the public! We have library cards and went to a public library and watched it for $0! It’s owned by the library so the public can see it! At the library!

The availability of us to access it now that the show has closed is what constitutes public release. There were several other phans, members of the public there to see it after us, and the library allowed them to max out the number of monitors the library allows people to view on. They had a later appointment and were watching disc one when we were on disc two. I’m sure there was someone after them too. Were we all wearing Phantom gear? Also yes.

(@or-what-you-will here) The library is not allowed to show recordings of anything currently running on Broadway, presumably because of fears about economic loss from those who own the rights to the musicals. The library does not own the rights to the musicals in the archive, and there are likely a lot of stipulations the library has to follow to be able to have recordings like this.

As someone who works in a library doing digitization work, libraries and the media they contain are very complicated. TOFT likely has the rights to show it under a very limited license, and to make copies for preservation purposes only, but things like this mean they would not be able to do anything like put it online or charge for it or do anything that would be them acting as though they owned the copyright (as opposed to the physical media). This is why when a library or archive has a book or tapes they don’t usually have the right to photocopy the entire book or digitize the entire tape and put it online (unless it is in public domain), however, if you go in person you can see it all you want. Someone else (usually the creator) owns the right to distribute or copy, and libraries and archives can get in a lot of trouble for violating it.

The copyright is still owned by the holders of each respective musical’s copyright. It’s essentially like when you buy a DVD and you are technically not supposed to copy that DVD but you can invite your friends over to watch it at your house. Copying it and distributing it violates copyright. Putting it online violates copyright. If the library violated copyright it would likely lose the ability to archive musicals altogether. If you copied the DVD it would be a lot harder to find out who put it up because the DVD is owned by lots of people, though you could still be prosecuted by the law. If the library did, they would know immediately who did it because they are presumably the only ones with a copy of this recording.

Likewise if someone took a bootleg recording of a show and distributed it, the copyright holders wouldn’t know it existed. If they found out that individual would then be eligible to be prosecuted under the law. Because the library is a public institution, if they were found out to be doing this, it would be the library itself that would get in trouble and it would damage their reputation, their funding, and quite possibly the funding and reputation of libraries around the world. A lot of this is done on trust. The copyright holders trust the library as a public institution and the library has a lot more stakes in the game than a single person recording the show and distributing it.

It’s a very tenuous agreement at times, and likely the library is only allowed to even record because there are so many protections in place and they have a history of enforcing these rules. These agreements also usually cover digitization and preservation, but again, violating them could have those abilities taken away as well. It’s all tied up in copyright law and the library has no control over that. I have talked to archivists where I live who have to record performances with tape over the lens because it’s considered for preservation and they want to make sure it cannot be possible to profit off of it in any way.

When the show goes into public domain they will be able to put it online all they want without fear of repercussions, but until then, unless those agreements change, we are all limited by the whim of the copyright holders.

5. Hello! Is the pro shot you watched what this clip is from https://www.instagram.com/reel/Cp2_80CJqI3/?igsh=MWNja2wwYWw4OHUwbw== ?

I know all of us here on Tumblr were freaking out that they maybe had a copy of the pro shot when this came out. Thank you! (@imstillhere-butallislost)

Not the proshot, it's a press reel. It has its own cool story though! Answered this here.

6. How good of a shot was it? I know you said ProShot but is it a ProShot like Hamilton or just a camera recording the whole stage at once?

I’d definitely say it was Hamilton pro-shot quality as to what was available at the time between image quality and mixing up of close ups and wide shots. I’ve watched other proshots and many just park a camera in the back of the orchestra and call it good. Cats in particular had multiple cameras but just did close-ups when they felt like it, not when it made sense or added anything. As @or-what-you-will explained in their re-blog, Phantom was one of the first proshots where they had a soundboard plug in, and let me tell you, with the exception of a few moments in Act 1 where Sarah Brightman maxes out her mic, the sound was delicious. Have we talked about how Judy Kaye is singing over the overture (yes, that’s Judy Kaye, original Carlotta, warming up!)? Or that you can hear every single word of Notes I and Prima Donna and Notes II, which usually just sounds garbled because everyone is singing over one another? Actually hearing words that I sort of know exist changed my experience of the show for me.

7. How did the tempo seem, compared to the pace of the show at the end of its run? I saw the show a few times in the last few years, and the music seemed significantly faster in person than it sounded on the London cast recording. I’ve always wondered if that was just a difference between the London and NY productions, or if the tempo just sped up over the years.

Uh…normal pace??? I’ve watched a lot of boots and most solidly clock in 2:15 of run time. This was no different. There are definitely some that run a little faster. London during Earl Carpenter’s 2023 run was notorious as he had to catch a train. It does seem to have settled back out. I will say, the music does always feel more intense in person because the whole place just vibrates.

8. I'm curious about the comment about the Ratcatcher? I think I remember that character from a film adaptation, but was he ever in the ALW musical? (@lord-valery-mimes)

Yes, Ratcatcher is still in the musical, even now. It’s a blink or you miss it type of moment. If you hear a thud and a scream right before Madame Giry tells Raoul “He lives across the Lake, Monsieur”, the thud is the ratcatcher running across the travelator.

9. Does Christine really recognize the Phantom in PONR from his boner?

No, but at this point she probably already know it’s him and has been trying to get through the scene, but definitely acts surprised because, well, that’s surprising. But it’s definitely the moment where the Vibes Are Officially Off.

10. Can Sarah Brightman act?

Yes! All three of the trio have far more nuanced performances on stage. Sarah doesn’t act the way that we do see many later Christines (including late 80s and early 90s Christines), but she absolutely created the blueprint for the role. Her “Wishing You Were Somehow Here Again” is missing some soul, but at the end of the day she was one of a kind, and she made some very strong acting choices.

11. there anything unexpected? Any interpretation that stood out to you and particularly striking but didn’t stick around as others took on the roles and put their own spin on things?

Guys, I want to talk about Steve Barton as Raoul. The man made choice, after choice, after choice. And yet we have had so many Raoul’s that are kind of just strutting about looking pretty. Some seem to even forget they’re onstage during Final Lair. It can be such a juicy role if the actors choose to make it that way but so few do.

Besides some small details I mentioned, the show did maintain its integrity through its 35 year run, which is truly remarkable.

(@or-what-you-will here) Seconding what Flag said, Steve Barton brought so much more to the role than I’m used to seeing, and it really opened my mind to what Raoul could be.

The blocking in PONR did surprise me, I knew they had changed it but I hadn’t realized how much. I always found the kind of pinwheeling arm thing Christine does with the phantom strange, so it was a pleasant surprise to find that they didn’t do that at all, the embrace from behind made more sense to me.

I also found after she took his hood off no one really ran out, the phantom and Christine got to have their moment. The blocking where they (the managers and Raoul) run out and tell Christine to stay makes no sense with their motivations to stop him. The more recent blocking where Christine motions them to stay in place as the phantom sings the All I Ask of You Reprise makes way more sense with the characters’ motives and matches this original blocking much more.

12. Also are you truly working on a research project? If so, how is progress and where might we find your final results when it’s complete?

To quote Dr. Who, “Spoilers.” Yes, always. Both of us have day jobs that have us doing research, but I can’t promise I’ll put it on here when complete since I keep fandom and real life separate. Sorry to dodge this one but getting into specifics about this starts to identify us.

(@or-what-you-will here) Seconding what Flag said.

13. Hi there, I was wondering if I could ask you a general question about the NPL’s archive. Something about the language on their website made it sound like viewers could only watch a recording “once”. I wasn’t sure if that meant “once per visit” (i.e. you can’t sit there for 8 hours restarting the tape every time it ends) or “once” as in forever (like, once you’ve watched a recording you are never allowed to request it again). Did you have any clarification? I wasn't sure if the librarians explain the policies when you arrive at your appointment. Thank you for providing so many details about the Phantom pro-shot and offering to answer our questions! That's really kind of you!

You’re welcome! So if there’s nobody after you, you can hang out with the media as long as you want. However, we did have another group come in about 90 minutes after us. That gave us enough time to watch both acts with all the rewinds we wanted. We watched PONR and parts of Final Lair like five times. On a previous TOFT trip I watched two shows and was there for like six hours. The prohibition is on coming back and watching the recording again. I have no idea how strict they are about this, although I suspect it’s to keep people from monopolizing certain media. Would I want to try to watch the proshot again in the future? Probably! I know there’s stuff I missed, or I’d see something different depending on what I’m working on. The TOFT is also an absolutely incredible resource and I have so many other shows I’d like to check out.

(Will here) They do log on your library account when you visit that you visited and what you saw. However, if you have accessibility needs that would require you to watch in multiple viewings or something along those lines, I would talk to them about it, because I’m sure they’d be able to work with you to figure out something so you wouldn’t have to sit through the whole thing in one shot.

14. > Barton Raoul’s “There is no Phantom of the Opera” comes off more as “Christine this is just some dude” vs “he doesn’t exist at all.”

Could you elaborate on this part? I'm having trouble imagining how that would be conveyed. (also, thanks for sharing your notes on the procast!) @clutzyangel

You're welcome! Yes, he's telling Christine that the Phantom is a human, flesh-and-blood man, not some fantastical creature. I've seen many Raouls who seem to try to convince Christine that the Phantom doesn't exist at all. Barton's Raoul seems to understand that he's a man with ulterior motives possibly duping Christine.

And he's not wrong.

#phantom of the opera #poto #alw phantom #phantom proshot #happy birthday phantom broadway #phantom broadway #michael crawford #sarah brightman #steve barton #judy kaye #andrew lloyd webber #nypl #research #I wish Phantom were still be on broadway #we should all be wilding out at the majestic

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