#today is a 25/07 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sparklingchim · 1 year

Text

long way home 26 | jjk

pairing: jungkook x reader

word count: 4.9k

genre: dilf!jungkook, friends to lovers, angst

warnings: ... emotions 🫡

summary: the one where decisions are made.

a/n: i can't believe m actually typing this out but we're at the end of lwh !!! thank u to everyone reading this series <3 i love uuuu <3

chapters: 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 |

masterlist | long way home masterlist

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

The coffee shop is eerily tranquil today. There aren’t many customers.

Only a few people linger at the tables near the windows and a single person stands in line.

The only loud noise comes from your phone pressed to your ear as Seulgi screams and yells at you.

You definitely should have waited until you entered the break room, because you’re afraid Seulgi’s voice is loud enough to hear.

“You promised me you would talk to him!”

You close the door with a push of your palm.

“I know, I’m going to.” You sigh and sit down at the table. “I just don’t know when exactly.” You sound sheepish, a worried crease appearing between your brows.

"Did he text you at all?”

“No. Why would he? I literally kicked him out of my place.”

Seulgi groans at your reminder. “Tell me why you did that again?”

“Seulgi,” you whine. You need her advice. She had already done the scolding part days ago.

“I know, I know – I'm sorry,” she replies, softer now – less accusing.

You fidget with your fingers. “Should I text him?”

“No, that’s not a good approach,” she dismisses.

“At least it’s something,” you retort. You could send him a short message. Though you’re not sure what it would contain. Hi, I'm sorry for making you leave, can we pls pls pls talk I miss you. You grimace. Maybe a call would be more suitable.

“Y/n,” Seulgi says, snapping you out of your thoughts. “You know what’s more important than figuring out how to approach a conversation?” She pauses, but you stay silent. “Being ready to tell him the truth.”

You told Seulgi of your feelings for Jungkook the day after he confessed to you. She sat on your couch and watched you intently after you announced in a flustered tone I have to tell you something, right after you had talked about what had happened the day before.

You waited for a reaction, but none came. She had a vacant expression. “I know,” she said then, shrugging nonchalantly. “You think you were being secretive about it?” A puzzled look spread across her face.

You felt your cheeks grow hot.

“Are you?” Seulgi presses.

“Yes. I think I am.”

“Good, because this isn’t gonna fix itself,” she says. “Not unless you finally have the courage to be honest with him.”

She’s right. And even though it’s scary, you have nothing to lose. You have already lost your two favourite people in the world.

“And now go and talk to him.”

“What?” Seulgi can’t possibly mean that.

"Go to his place and have a conversation with him.” As if it were that easy.

“I’m at work, Seulgi.”

“You’re taking a break right now,” she counters.

“Yeah, but-”

“No buts,” she interjects. “Just go and get your friend back. Or future boyfriend, whatever.” Seulgi is unwavering. But your doubts and hesitations slowly start to fade. “I can’t keep watching you be sad. It breaks my heart,” she adds, in a much smaller voice.

“Seulgi,” you pout. She has seen you at your lowest points, and of course you know that she is compassionate, but when you hear her voice, your throat tightens.

“You’re gonna leave now?” she asks.

It’s a bit hectic and far too spontaneous, but her words have planted determination in your mind. But maybe that is exactly what you need. This way you don’t have time to overthink and come up with possible scenarios that make you doubt everything and give you sleepless nights.

“I am.” You take a look at the clock. You still have time left, but it’s definitely not nearly enough for walking to Jungkook’s apartment and talking to him. You have to do this now. If you postpone it to later, you’re not certain if you still have the bravery to do it.

“The next time you call it better be to tell me that Jungkook is your boyfie.”

You ignore her. “I’m gonna hang up now, I don’t have time. And thank you, really, without you I’d probably never do this.”

“That’s what friends are for,” she says warmly. You wish you could hug her.

After the call you leave the break room. There still aren’t a lot of customers and you’re thankful for that.

“Jimin.” You walk up to him. He’s loading cakes into the display case. He gives you a sweet smile.

“Hey, uh – I kinda have something quick to do,” you start, gauging his reaction. “Do you think you could – It’s just something really important and I don’t know if I can do it later and-”

“It’s okay, y/n,” he interrupts, the smile still on display. “I’ll cover for you, no problem. Do what you have to do, there is no rush.”

He doesn’t ask for a reason. He doesn’t ask how long you’ll be away. He doesn’t ask any questions. You would pull him into a hug if you weren’t in such a hurry.

You tug at the tie of your apron at your back and pull it off your body. Jimin reaches out to you and you hand him your black apron.

“Thank you. I promise I’ll be back soon!”

You don’t know the outcome of this, but you will take the initiative and at least try to make things better than they have been the last couple weeks.

You’re a little hopeful, and you have yet to find out if you are foolish for that.

With your heart pounding in your ears, you rush out of the coffee shop.

The walk from the coffee shop to Jungkook’s apartment isn’t that long, but it gives you time to question your choice.

You stand in the elevator of Jungkook’s apartment building, wondering whether you should press the button that will take you back down.

Earlier, a guy walked out of the building when you were about to ring Jungkook’s doorbell. You were able to slip into the building without announcing your presence to Jungkook. You feel more comfortable this way, though your hands start feeling clammy.

The elevator stops at Jungkook’s floor. The steps that lead you to his apartment door are uncertain, ready to turn and sprint down the stairs.

But you didn’t come here just to run away. You want things to be good between Jungkook and you.

You take a deep breath and press the doorbell.

A few seconds pass. Then, the door opens.

Jungkook stands in front of you. His long, dark hair is a fluffy and wavy mess on top of his head, adorned with little wispy flyaways around his face. He’s in casual clothes – black sweatpants combined with an oversized white pullover.

He seems startled to see you.

“Hi,” you say, a little breathless.

“Hi.” His usual mellow lilt carries a rare hesitancy.

“Do you have time to talk?” A lump forms in your throat and you swallow it down.

“Yeah, sure.” He makes room for you to enter and closes the door behind you. You change into a pair of slippers and follow Jungkook to the living room.

“Is Nabi sleeping?” You can’t help but ask. You kind of hoped to see her. You missed her and maybe she could’ve eased your nervousness a little.

“I put her down for a nap a while ago.” Jungkook sits down next to you on the couch, a considerable distance between you. He glances at the clock hanging on the wall. “She should be up soon, though.”

When his eyes draw back to you, you feel a little helpless. You remind yourself of what Seulgi told you. This isn’t gonna fix itself.

After sorting the chaos in your head, you say, “I wanted to apologise for being so selfish all the time.”

Jungkook parts his lips to speak, but you continue before he can say anything. “I’ve never fully tried to look at things from your perspective and narrowed my mind to what I thought was the best solution.” You pull your sleeves over your hands. “It shouldn’t have been that way.”

“It’s okay,” Jungkook replies, flashing you a tiny smile that disappears soon after. “It doesn’t matter anymore.”

“I shouldn’t have made you leave. That was heedless and inconsiderate of me,” you admit, biting your lip in guilt. “You opened up to me and I didn’t know what to do. There was a lot in my mind, and I just needed some space for a moment – I'm sorry, truly.” You avert your gaze to the carpet. “I honestly didn’t prepare what to say, I just – I left work because I needed to talk to you.”

“Why do you sacrifice so much for me?”

He insinuates more than leaving work in the middle of your shift.

A string tugs at your heart. Jungkook was honest with you, it’s time to be honest with him too – and maybe to yourself as well. It’s time to acknowledge the feelings you hold for him in a hidden little niche of your heart.

It’s difficult to bare that part of you when you’re so used to hiding it.

“Because I love you.”

You said it. And you mean it. Wholeheartedly so.

You can’t foreshadow his response and what will happen, but you’re glad you said it. The relief that courses through you was worth it.

Jungkook’s stare is intense. You don’t know if it’s the intensity of his stare or what you’ve just confessed, but every single bone inside of you feels ignited. You’re burning from the inside with sheer anxiety darting through you, while Jungkook remains silent.

Your words hang in the air, so simple and yet so daunting.

Jungkook’s pierced eyebrow twitches. He opens his mouth but not a single sound passes his lips.

You don’t blame him. Three days ago you shooed him away after he told you the exact same thing. In retrospect, you deeply regret that decision. But at that moment, you were overwhelmed and needed to be alone. Sort your thoughts. And then talk to him again.

You shift in your seat. “Jungkook.” It’s a soft murmur of his name, a trace of pity and urge creeping in your voice.

The spark leaves Jungkook’s eyes and he casts his gaze away. “It doesn’t change that you made me leave. You still don’t want anything to do with me. Right?”

You shake your head vehemently. But he is still not looking at you, so you say, “That’s not true.” You sit closer to him, fingers curling against the fabric of his sweater on his elbow. “That night was overwhelming for me. I made a mistake when I told you to leave, but I didn’t know what else to do.” Doe eyes lock with yours. You realise how much you missed his glimmering eyes that hold the night sky within them. “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want you back in my life, Jungkook.” His sweater crumples into a tiny ball in your palm. “I missed you.”

His answer is immediate. “I missed you too.”

Your chest feels light. A giddy warmth encloses you like a blanket.

“I’m sorry. For the way I acted,” you say.

“It’s okay. You’ve already apologised.” He looks down at your hand grasping his sweater. You should let go, but even the smallest hint of physical touch feels reassuring.

“I know but I just – I just think we’re equally as responsible for how things have turned out.”

Jungkook nods. “Yeah, definitely.” With a sigh he leans back. His tatted fingers vanish in his dark hair as he cascades through them.

“I really wanna try this. I want to be with you.”

He unclasps your fingers from his sweater and holds your hand. It’s an innocent, small gesture and still, your skin buzzes with delight.

“Y/n.” The way he whispers your name, tender and careful, as if not to break you. “Don’t you realise how much more you deserve?”

Your brows furrow. “But...” You squeeze his hand. “You’re all I’ve ever wanted.” His thumb strokes the back of your hand.

“I promised myself to get over you after we graduated high school,” you tell. “But that clearly never happened.” Looking at both your hands you feel silly for ever thinking you could suppress your feelings for Jungkook.

“High school?” he inquires.

You feel small beneath his sharp gaze. “Well, yeah.” You shrug. “You’re like. Really pretty.” Heat crawls up into your cheek. “And we hung out like 24/7. It was not that hard to fall for you.”

“I mean, same.” The corner of Jungkook’s mouth tilts upwards.

Your lips form a tiny ‘o’. He has feelings for you since high school? It doesn’t make sense. “But you never shut up about how we’re such good friends,” you accuse him. All these years. And you didn’t know.

“Oh, yeah. That was...” He trails off.

“That was what?” You level him with a raised brow.

You see the struggle in Jungkook’s eyes. You don’t want to push him, but there are no more lies between you, no more secrets and untruths. You want only total honesty from now on.

“I thought I wasn’t good enough. That you deserved more.”

You shake your head in denial. “Why would you ever think that?” The years you spent with him as a teenager are full of happy memories. There were no big fights, and you don’t think you ever said or did something that made him feel that way. He’s been your best friend for so long. You love him just the way he is. “Did I ever make you feel like that?”

“Your father once told me not to try to pursue anything more than friends with you,” he explains hesitantly. “That’s why I’ve always talked about being such good friends.”

“He said what.” You’re stunned. What was your dad thinking?

Jungkook pulls your hands to his lap. “He only meant the best for you at the time.” He remains calm but little bubbles of anger prick at your skin.

“I don’t care what he was thinking.” You scowl, lips drawn into an angry pout. “So you’re telling me that if my dad hadn’t said anything, we would’ve-”

“Don’t get mad now,” he interrupts, an amused smile playing at his lips as he tucks an errant strand of hair behind you ear. “Your dad didn’t have any ill intend. I know we could’ve saved us a lot of time and misunderstandings but looks at us. Years later and we’re still in love. It doesn’t matter if in high school or now. It’s the same love. Just - “Jungkook flashes you a cute smile. “I think the only thing that has changed is that I love you even more.”

You bite down your lip. This. This is all you’ve ever wanted.

“Being apart from you was terrible,” you say, scooting closer to him. “I spent so much time thinking about you, you know that?”

He chuckles. “I think I do. You never leave my mind, y/n.” His hand around yours feels strong, protective.

“Never?” You ask tentatively. Looking at him through your lashes.

“No,” he confirms, a subtle, gentle shake of his head. “Never.”

You’re not even that close to him, but your entire body prickles at the proximity of Jungkook. The weeks without him have made you forget how it feels when you’re with him and now your body reacts to it like anticipating the last book of a fantasy series.

You need him closer than this. And it’s almost as if Jungkook can hear your thoughts, because he lets go of your hand and instead pulls you by your waist into his side. His hand lingers at your waist. And you might just feel like your skin is on fire.

“I like this better.” Jungkook’s voice is low, and so so close, it sends shivers down your spine.

“Me too,” you mumble. You have your chin propped up against his arm, looking at him with a small smile. You grow shy beneath his gaze, and you don’t even know why. “I’ve always wanted this.” You clasp your hands around his arm.

“Good,” Jungkook agrees, voice an octave deeper. Oh. More goose bumps. “Because I’ve always dreamt of this too.”

His other hand comes up to your face. He cups your cheek so delicately, the warmth of his palm is a soothing distraction from your racing heart.

Jungkook’s eyes dart between your eyes and lips, a question floating in the air that he is too afraid to ask.

“Jungkook.” It’s a plea, a request a yes, please kiss me and make me forget the world for just a moment.

Jungkook bends down. Your heart thumps against your chest and when you feel the softest hint of his mouth against yours, it stops beating.

The kiss is brief, gentle. A mere brush of your lips. Your eyes flutter open when Jungkook pulls back again, just the tiniest bit. He gives your waist a squeeze. His lips left a glimmer of tingles on your lips, and you ache for more.

“I spent so long waiting for this moment I was worried fate might never let me have you,” he whispers against your lips.

“You have me, Jungkook.” It leaves your mouth like a promise. “I’m here.”

Your hands loop around his neck and you surge forward, pulling Jungkook into another kiss. He moves his lips against yours in a practiced manner, as though you did that every single day of your lives. Like he is the missing piece of your heart to make you whole again.

Jungkook tugs you closer to him. You raise to your knees and throw a leg over Jungkook’s thigh. He follows your movements with his mouth, the softness in the beginning switching into a frantic, messy kiss.

You sit on his thigh, hands diving into his fluffy hair. You pull at some strands when he bites down your lip, moan into his mouth when he pushes you closer at your lower back and you graze over his thigh. With every sweep of his lips, another broken bone of your body mends.

You never want this moment to end.

You didn’t know you needed this so desperately, but now that you’re in Jungkook’s embrace you never want to let him go. Just you two, forever.

But then a sudden cry blares through the apartment.

Jungkook draws back. His forehead is against yours.

You two need a second to come back to the real world. The afterglow clouds your rational thoughts like the night setting after a beautiful summer day.

Your breathing is laboured, so is Jungkook’s. Your hands slide down to his neck and down to his shoulders.

“Nabi woke up from her nap.” His nose scrunches at Nabi’s wailing. He plants a tiny smooch on your lips, lingering close for a chaste moment before he gets you off his thigh.

You think about waiting until he returns with Nabi, but you can’t wait to see her tiny, bubbly form after so long.

Before Jungkook leaves the room, you scramble to your feet and reach for his hand. “I missed her,” you whine and Jungkook leads you to the nursery with a promising squeeze of his hand.

When you follow Jungkook into Nabi’s room, you take tentative steps towards her crib. Nabi is curled up in her little blankets, her round doe eyes shimmering with tears. Instinctually, you coo at her sight. Your heart softens.

“Wanna hold her?” Jungkook asks. His eyes never left you since you entered the room.

You nod – way too animatedly – and you think you see a smile spreading across Jungkook’s face out of the corner of your eye.

Ever so gently, you swoop Nabi into your embrace. Her little sobs ring throughout the room and nip straight at your heart. “My baby,” you murmur. You rock her in your arms. “I missed you so, so much.” She is wearing her baby bear romper, the material a fuzzy brown with two little bear ears attached to the hood.

Nabi is a small, fluffy bear and you’ve missed this tiny human so enormously.

Her doe eyes – an exact replication of her dad’s – stare up at you. The cries subside into whimpers, her puffy lips trembling.

“Nabi.” Her name bubbles past your lips in a whisper. You brush your knuckle against her doughy cheek. “Do you remember me?” She blinks through her thin, wet eye lashes. Having her in your arms unfolds a gloomy feeling in your chest. Yes, you are happy to see her again, but how were you able to spend more than two weeks without her?

“Are you crying?” Jungkook suddenly asks, stepping forward.

It’s only then you discern the tears pricking your eyes. “No,” you deny, sniffing a little.

A soft chuckle springs from his chest. Jungkook stands behind you, nuzzling his head to the side of your face. His burly arms envelop your waist. “Don’t cry,” he mutters. He faintly nudges your cheek with his nose. “You’ll never be separated from her again.”

“I wouldn’t survive that.” Your lower lip juts out as you’re in awe with Nabi’s cuteness. She has your heart.

“She wouldn’t either,” Jungkook retorts. His hushed timbre so close to your ear is drawing you back to him. You slowly rest your head against his chest. His voice. You could listen to him talk for hours with no end. “Nabi wouldn’t settle for sleep if she didn’t have some of your clothes in her bed.”

With a quick tilt of your head, you glance up at him. And then your eyes travel to Nabi’s crib. You see something in a lavender colour peeking from underneath Nabi’s blanket. A top you must have left here.

You thought you had successfully managed to restrain your tears, but here you are again, with new tears stinging your eyes.

“You can't just say that.” Dolour cloaks your voice. “It’s gonna make me cry.”

“Sweetheart.” He pecks the crown of your head. “It’s okay now.” There’s a hint of amusement swirling in his tone. But his touches on your body are soft, soothing.

Nabi has gone completely silent in your grasp. You boop her nose. A smile unfurls on your face. So little. A broad smile blossoms on Nabi as a reaction, pudgy cheeks scrunching her twinkling eyes. The absolute sweetest giggle sparks from her. Your heart clenches at the sound.

But then your eyes spot her reddened gums and the faint white outlines of her teeth.

You gasp. “She is growing teeth already?” With a swift whirl of your head, you stare at Jungkook, eyes wide.

“Yeah, and she’s been really fussy about it.”

“Oh my God,” you utter, looking at the little baby in your arms who’s growing up too fast. A subliminal melancholy sets in your tummy. “She was just a tiny baby and now she has teeth?” You ask, appalled.

“Not yet,” Jungkook says. “But it doesn’t matter how fast she grows – she will be my little baby forever.” Nabi’s eyes are drawn to Jungkook as he speaks. “Isn’t that right? Hm?” He leans over your shoulder, squishing her doughy cheek with his fingers. Nabi squeals, another smile displayed on her mouth.

You give Jungkook a kiss on his cheek. His eyes are sparkling just like Nabi’s. Jungkook turns his face to you. “And you,” – his lips brush over the corner of your mouth – “You will be my baby forever too.”

You laugh against his mouth.

“What.” He raises his brows, a pleased expression on his face.

“You’re silly.”

“No, I’m not.” He pulls you closer to him. Your back is flush against his lean body.

“I’m just saying the truth.”

“Oh, yeah?” Playfulness flashes in your eyes.

He gives you a firm nod. “Yeah.” Jungkook gently strokes your hair over your shoulder. Your skin tingles when his digits unintendedly skim over your neck.

“Tell me another then.”

“I love you.” He didn’t let a second pass before answering. “I’m so incredibly in love with you.”

Your heart flutters in your chest. “I love you.”

His loving eyes bore into your soul. No one has ever looked at you the way Jungkook does. Like you are beautiful, a work of art.

A deep warmth of domesticity floats in the air. It’s a vast contrast to how you have been feeling in the past days.

You share a sweet kiss with him, but it gets quickly disrupted by demanding babbling from beneath you.

"Yes, I love you too, missy,” Jungkook says, brushing her thin hair from her forehead. Her brows are deeply furrowed. He gives her a kiss there. Nabi’s trembling pout changes into a beam. “Always needy of attention, huh?”

“Just like her daddy,” you tease, grinning at Jungkook, before you leave the nursery with Nabi.

Jungkook catches your waist in the hallway. “You’re right,” he admits, a smirk curving his lips. He pulls you into his side as he walks you to the kitchen. “That’s why I don’t wanna spent any second of my life apart from you anymore.” Jungkook pecks your forehead.

A shy smile sets on your mouth. You sir down at the dining table and watch Jungkook opening a cupboard with Nabi’s food.

Nabi has found interest in playing with your hair, occasionally tugging at it.

“Not a single second?” you ask mindlessly, eyes focused on Nabi.

“I’m being serious.” He pops open a jar. “Y’know what.” Jungkook turns around to you. “You should move in with me.”

Your head snaps to him.

You search for a hint that tells you that he doesn’t actually mean it, but Jungkook doesn’t budge.

“I mean it,” he confirms.

“I can’t just move out of my apartment like that,” you reason.

Jungkook shrugs. “Just stay with me.”

It sounds so simple from his lips. And maybe it is. Seulgi has already taught you today the simplicity of just acting without overthinking too much beforehand.

“That way Minjun can’t bother you anymore.” Something flashes in Jungkook’s eyes. “Next time I see him I’m gonna break his neck.”

You ponder for a second. “I mean, I spent most of my time here anyway,” you say. “But lets not rush anything.” You don’t want this to be ruined before it has even properly started.

“Of course, baby.” He turns to the counter again. “Only if you want.”

You watch from behind as he prepares Nabi’s food. The contours of his shoulder muscles flexing with his movements conjure butterflies in your tummy. Hm. Maybe you should consider moving in if this is what you’ll get to see every day.

“Waking up next to you for the rest of my life sounds like a dream, honestly,” Jungkook flirts. You don’t have to see him to know he’s grinning annoyingly.

You’re glad he doesn’t see the way your teeth involuntarily sink into your bottom lip at his teasing voice.

“Your daddy can be insufferable sometimes,” you whisper conspiratorially, looking down at Nabi. She babbles something in return. You giggle and Nabi squeals in delight.

“What are my girls talking about?” Jungkook asks.

“None of your concern.”

You hear him huff. Suddenly, you remember that you left work during your shift. And that you promised Jimin to be back as soon as possible.

“Jungkook,” you gasp. He immediately turns to you. “I have to go back to work. Jimin is covering for me, but I've left him for way too long. I-”

“It’s okay, I’ll drive you back.” Jungkook’s calm voice works like a miracle cure for your panic. “I’ll just feed Nabi real quick and then we can leave.”

“You don’t have to. I can walk back.”

“I want to,” Jungkook says. “Besides, we can eat our cookies again. It’s been so long since I’ve eaten one.”

“I haven’t eaten one in so long as well.” The last time was together with Jungkook.

Jungkook blinks perplexed. “How have you survived until now?” He closes the distance between you, the back of his hand against your forehead. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

You roll your eyes and swat his arm. “I’m perfectly fine.”

“Why are you on a cookie diet?”

“Reminded me too much of you,” you mumble.

“Baby,” Jungkook coos. His knuckles trace the skin of your cheek. “I’m sorry. I’ll buy you as many as you want.”

You grin mischievously. “For the rest of my life?”

“Of course.”

“Daaa,” Nabi gurgles.

“Yes, I’ll buy you as many cookies you want too, once you grow your teeth.”

“That’s gonna be so soon.” You pout.

“We’ll always have time to make a second b-”

“Jungkook hurry.” You push him away. “Poor Jimin is covering for me, and Nabi is gonna starve.”

“Okay, okay,” he replies, though he doesn’t go back until he traps your mouth in a tender kiss. It’s a short kiss, but it messes with every coherent thought in your brain.

You wait for Jungkook to bring Nabi’s warm food. He opens the cutlery drawer and fishes out her tiny, pink spoon.

You smile when you think about the phone call you’re gonna have with Seulgi later. The next time you call it better be to tell me that Jungkook is your boyfie.

The ambiance is cosy – Nabi snuggled up in your arms, Jungkook sending cute smiles your way as he gets her food ready – a feeling of utter contentment that has your whole body at peace.

It’s been a long way to get here, but you finally feel at home.

#jeon jungkook #dilf jungkook #jungkook #jungkook angst #jungkook f2l #jungkook fic #jungkook imagines #bts angst #bts imagines #bts x reader #bts scenarios

3K notes · View notes

offbrandkyoya · 1 year

Text

Lights, Camera, Action! - scaramouche x reader smau

summary:

you’re best friends with the famous band of all time, 5WIRL. however, DCKZ are rising to the top which are leaving your friends in the dust. the solution: add a new member, a new face to start some attention! it did cause attention alright, especially for your heart.

pairing: scaramouche x gn!reader

genre: band au, smau, fluff, crack, celebrity x reader, angst

warning: cursing, scandals, false rumors, kys jokes, mistreatment

status: completed!

taglist: closed :(

5WIRL the lovers DCKZ

Prologue: 1 & 2

01: congratulations! (you’re fucked)

02: common venti L

03: todays the day

04: childe has 0 rizz

05: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, SIX

06: let’s do it

07: << egg sandwiches

08: not your wife

09: fake birthday

10: scarapoo

11: sandwich kisses

12: stay mad

13: kaeyas delusional era

14: yn’s love life

15: SCARA!

16: therapist venti

17: the first show

18: bitchy woman

19: cricket cricket

20: just a friend

21: oh

22: strong

23: retweet

24: im glad to have met you

25: the delusions won

26: HE WANT ME

27: yes

28: TEN?????

29: giggling

30: hoe list

31: date night

32: together 4eva

33: bf reveal

34: enough is enough

35: best friends

36: sugar booger

37: marriage arc

38: fucking kids

39: by my side

40: kazurizz

41: oops i did it again

42: suck it up

43: stupid + stupid

44: = scarayn

45: angel from heaven

46: jealousy jealousy

47: boy what

48: fine then

49: feelings suck

50: hopefully

51: I’m Sorry

52: two weeks!?

53: he’s everywhere

54: bitchless era

55: good luck (you need it)

56: the artist named “….”

57: bye boyfie

58: love confessions

59: yn the widow

60: scara the widower

61: NOW NOW NOW

62: TAY

63: PAC-MAN

64: horrible people

65: pussy

66: big fan

67: what about us?

68: ten kids confirmed

69: crashing down

70: sleeping beauty

71: Goodbye Moon

72: new you new me

73: rattled cages

74: Better luck next time

75: Here Goes

76: Therefore, you and me

77: communication is key

78: the art of love

79: last show

80: thoma ache

81: masked singer

82: think about it

83: haters gonna hate

84: mamas boy

85: you hafta

86: it’s over

87: 2 brothers 2 men

88: Yns Mona Lisa

89: star

90: horn dog

91: win or lose

92: fight club

93: warmth

94: This is Life

95: Epilogue

1K notes · View notes

jiminjamms · 28 days

Text

sex therapy :: 28. perfect timing

chapter tags/warnings: therapist! toji. manipulative! naoya. toji defends you. naoya 100% has anger issues. infidelity/adultery. extremely strong language. corruption. family drama.

word count: 3.8k

notes: hugs to everyone! been a while, and my busy days at work (plus straggling mental health) have not been doing me favors. writing, reading, and interacting with you all have been bringing me joy. i spent extra time on this chapter to make this piece what i hoped it would be. enjoy. likes, comments, and reblogs are much appreciated. xoxo

fic masterlist | 01. 02. 03. 04. 05. 06. 07. 08. 09. 10. 11. 12. 13. 14. 15. 16. 17. 18. 19. 20. 21. 22. 23. 24. 25. 26. 27. 28. 29. 30. 31. 32. 33.

Toji loved working on Sundays.

With his colleagues off, Sundays were the only day in the week when Toji could be the sole person in the therapy office. He appreciated the slowness that came with working on the weekends, allowing him to balance his time for scheduled appointments with unoccupied windows used to strategize and decompress.

He relished in the lull. The tranquility. The peace.

But alas, the serenity was cut short on this particular Sunday, as someone barged through the entrance like a wild boar, causing a rambunctious racket as the front door flung open with immense force.

The doorknob clanged against the wall, and Toji—sitting behind the reception counter—looked up from a patient file on his computer screen.

With both curiosity and annoyance, he peered above his monitor.

The black tips to blond hair. The sharp brown glare. The permanent frown.

Who else could this have been but Naoya Zenin, presenting himself in the flesh?

The incomer’s expression consisted of nothing but antipathy as he bared his teeth at the doorway, his hands balled into fists by his sides. Based on how he glared upon seeing his older cousin, anyone could safely conclude that this man was beyond livid.

Must he pester me on the weekend? Toji thought as he mentally shook his head, clucking his tongue faintly in disapproval. He had not seen Naoya ever since his official departure from the Zenin Corporation and household, which was months ago. From his recollection, the manchild before him had a fickle personality, bursting into immature fits that easily made someone younger (like his son Megumi) seem like the actual adult around.

Given this, Toji legitimately did not understand how you had been putting up with Naoya as your husband.

As for himself, Toji did his best to ignore the new presence, clicking his mouse as he resumed analyzing the file on his screen. He did not wish to spare a moment longer than necessary tending to the human tornado on his way. If Toji had wanted to deal with Naoya in person, he would have confronted him long ago. Rather, he had decided strategically to watch his cousin wreak havoc from afar to avoid interacting with his burdensome family. Everyone in the Zenin household, except for Mai and Maki, was not worth the aggravation that came with mere association.

Now, especially with today’s booked schedule, Toji would not be able to make an exception to soothe Naoya’s upcoming tantrum.

On the other hand, Naoya had no better choice than to drag himself to his older cousin’s doorstep.

Had circumstances been any different, he also could not bother to see Toji again. He hadn't talked to Toji in months. Why would he? After many years of neglect and inferiority, Naoya finally achieved everything he wanted.

Or so he thought.

This was why, to face his estranged relative again—after recently learning that you had been seeing him for weeks—was a grand ego blow to Naoya, who could not accept the possibility that he was losing his reputation’s very foundation to the man he had envied all his life.

Recognizing the indignation that fumed from the current Zenin heir, Toji seized the opportunity to inveigle his cousin and greeted him with a cheer.

“Good morning!” he beamed, raising his hand in salutation. The scar by his lips flexed from his grin. “Do you have an appointment?”

Naoya scowled awfully.

"Great to finally see you again, Toji Zenin."

Immediately, the said man’s smile fell at his cousin's overly casual tone. "Woah, there,” he shot back. “Show some respect, will you? First, my last name is Fushiguro. Do not refer to me as Zenin. Second, calling me by my first name is bad manners. I'm older than you, kid."

Without question, the comment irked the blonde. Of all people in the universe, this was Naoya Zenin in question, a hubristic man who hated humiliation and the need to concede. His demeanor hardened with resentment while he struggled to maintain his composure.

"Fine, Mr. Fushiguro."

Toji quirked another smile.

Theoretically, he had no problem demanding more but decided to be nice by saying, “That’s better.” He locked his computer as he shifted his attention, crossing his arms as his back rested against his chair. “I haven't seen you in a while. Remember the days when you used to work here, too? Good times, hm?" All rhetorical chit-chat and pleasantries and, as expected, there was no response. "Well, I have only a few minutes to spare, after which I have business to attend. So...what brings you to visit?”

Another ironic question, as Toji already knew the answer.

Over the phone, he had spoken with an irate Naoya who demanded to speak to his wife and have her back home. Despite his insufferable treatment toward you, the Zenin CEO could not stand how his apartment remained empty the past few nights, meaning he hadn’t gotten his dick soaked by his lawful spouse like he should be doing.

But then again, Toji thought, he already has a mistress to satisfy himself with.

Meanwhile, Naoya might as well be digging holes into his cousin’s skull from how his glower fizzed with malice. He opened his mouth, only to promptly purse his lips again to choose his reply carefully.

“Did you make her see you?”

Quite a question.

Toji blinked rapidly through an empty stare.

Where did that come from?

“‘See me?’” he had to clarify.

In one smooth motion, Toji stood from his seat, his chair bouncing back slightly when he did. With his arms still folded over his chest, he meandered around the counter area that separated the client and employee zones in the reception area, stopping mere steps away from the younger man.

Then, he repeated, “See me who?”

Naoya did not appear amused in the slightest.

His hazel eyes all but narrowed from vexation. The paroxysm of negative emotions on the blonde’s face made him appear ready to snap. Like a button ready to blast everything around him, he was close to letting his wrath take over. “Did you send my wife your therapist information just so that you could talk to her and figure out how to get revenge on me?”

What an oddly specific accusation.

“Why would I do such a thing?” It was more of a statement than a question, and Toji could see how his nonchalance profoundly irritated the other man. “She found me like how all my other therapy clients find me. But me reaching out to her personally merely to spite you? No. That's only some shit you would think to do. Unlike yourself, I'm not that petty."

Toji was blunt in his response, he knew.

In his defense, he would rather cut to the chase than beat around the bush.

He no longer headed the Zenin conglomerate, but he still had a therapy practice to manage and a family to look after. With his packed schedule, every second mattered and he wasn’t the type to waste his time lingering around and dealing with non-important business matters, such as the grouchy kid with him.

His observations definitely blew a fuse within Naoya, though.

"Excuse me?!" In two sharp steps, he closed the distance between Toji and himself, jabbing a finger into the other's chest. Bold. “You’re fucked, you know that? You’re so damn fucked," he hissed, and the edges of his mouth contorted into a derisive sneer. “You…You’re goddamn obsessed with Y/N, and you don’t even realize that! Give me a fucking break. You only give two hoots about the bitch because she’s my wife, but you don't actually give a shit about the woman herself.”

At that, Toji immediately swatted the hand from his pec.

“Incorrect, I do,” he retorted, his tone firm. “But do you care about her?” and he didn’t need to hear a response for that one, so he went on. “No, you do not. You know what? I found her situation sad because every time your wife talked about you, she told me about how you neglect and can’t satisfy her. This entire time, I was sorry for her precisely because I know the person you are. Fine, you call her your wife. What that means is she's not just a pussy for you to play with. You can’t just pick and choose different parts of her. But where were you when your wife was crying?” He paused briefly, letting his words sink into his silenced cousin’s head. “Where were you, hm? Where were you when she was upset? Anyone with eyes could’ve seen that she’s been having a hard time! But where?” and Toji gave Naoya one pointed glare. “Where…was her husband?”

In the sheets with an older woman.

Of course, that very husband would not admit that aloud, especially since he had yet to realize that his older cousin already knew about his affair with the other’s ex-wife. Instead, Toji saw Naoya twist his lips into a deeper frown.

“I have a company to lead,” was the excuse he spat out, and he ran both hands through his light strands in evident frustration. “I can’t believe our family thought that you were a capable leader. I, however, saw right through your facades, alright? Despite all your fucking degrees and licenses, you left the Zenin Corporation as a shithole for me to manage.”

“No, I had set the company to run efficiently,” Toji retorted, keeping his levelheaded demeanor. “You turned the Zenin Corporation into—in your own words—a shithole. You decided to fire everyone I had hired. So currently, your managers are inept, your shareholders are unhappy, your daddy is getting angry, and the most convenient person to blame is me.” He shrugged dismissively. “Rookie mistakes. E for Effort, I guess. Luckily for you, Y/N is a good way to cover up the competence which you lack. Thus, she’s only useful when you deem her as such.”

Naoya scoffed, and his shoulders rose and fell with each enraged breath. “Because you don’t understand what a burden she can otherwise be. Besides, I can treat and use her in whatever way I please!”

He might not display this visibly, but Toji felt disgusted.

“Don’t talk like you own her. That’s disrespectful. She's a person, not an object.”

"What—" Naoya paused, and his eyebrows creased in annoyance. "Who the fuck do you think you are? That woman is my wife.”

“Then treat her like one,” Toji shot back. While matching Naoya's hostility with his own, he could see the latter's eyes widen at the remark. Not that Toji paid him any mind, and he continued staring at his younger cousin with an unfazed demeanor that showed how willing he was to defend. "She might be your wife, but she is not your property.”

As if Naoya would care.

Rather, he clenched his hands into tight fists by his sides. “You need to stay away from her. You’ve had your chances with marriages. Y/N is mine and not yours. I swear, if you talk about her with your gross lips again, I'll—" He stopped, as he wasn’t quite sure what would be a good threat. “I’ll—”

“You’ll do what, kid?” Toji interrupted, knowing just how pissed Naoya would get from every reminder of who the older person was and who the actual successor to the Zenin inheritance should be. “I’ll keep her since you can’t. You call her a burden, but I don’t find her to be one. I don’t know about you, but I like her. Have you ever had a civil conversation with her? She's sweet and quite interesting to talk to.”

The continuous comments unsurprisingly make Naoya bristle further.

“I said don’t talk about her like that!” he snarled. “Here you are, bossing me around and telling me to treat her better, but listen to how you talk about the woman! Holy shit, you're such a fucking creep.”

“Me?” Toji repeated, appalled by his bravery to say those words. “Mind you, boy, she is the one who wanted to talk to me first. As her concerned therapist and the more mature adult, I believe I must listen to her complaints and make her feel better, especially when she keeps whining she’s not being fucked good.”

Naoya breathed heavily, his chest undulating while he boiled with rage. Yet, as the younger, more naive, and less physically adept challenger, he could not make himself fight back against the other man. “You...You don’t know shit, Fushiguro.”

Immediately, Toji arched a brow.

“Really?" Was that supposed to be an insult? "I don't know shit?" This was hilarious! "Oh, boy. I know a lot of fucking shit alright. About ‘your wife’ or whatever you want to deem her, there is not a single chance in hell that she’d ever think about calling you her husband anymore.”

Naoya stared back, rather stupefied.

In any other situation, he would simply take the remark as a cheap way to rouse him. Of course, talking about you would be the easiest route to do so. This time, though, Toji’s suspiciously happy visage as he retraced his steps to the counter and positioned himself comfortably against the surface had him uneasy.

He did not like what the other man insinuated.

"What...do you mean?" As much as he tried, Naoya could not hide how affected he appeared. “Our marriage is none of your damn business.”

Toji shrugged. "Marriage? What marriage? I don't see the rings on her finger, kid. Heard she tossed them. Apparently, you made her upset enough for her to take them off."

Without a better way to retaliate, Naoya clenched his teeth to signal his displease. “Ring or not, she’s still my wife,” he spat. “Plus, I do not want my wife around a womanizer like you.”

Instead of taking umbrage from your husband’s words, Toji tossed his head to the side and let out a deep, harrowing chortle. “Wow! You’re one to talk," he rebuked. "The whole household used to joke about how you brought a different girlfriend to each of our family dinners. At the moment, you’re married, and what? You want your spouse to come home, but you then drive her away. You want her to be a good partner, but torment her when she does. Please, you are embarrassing yourself. Why don’t you make up your fucking mind?” With his emerald gaze returning to the younger man, Toji then added, “Now, if you excuse me. My next client is arriving and I have an appointment."

Still, Naoya was not ready to let the conversation end. “We’re not done. You think you’re all ‘high and mighty.’ But, you’re low, Toji. So, so low. Your last wife was a divorcee, and now you’re a motherfucker into married women, huh?”

"So were you."

"What?"

"Baby?"

And, in one go, all signs of life drained away from Naoya swiftly at the new voice.

No fucking way, his expression seemed to read as he craned his neck around in rigid and robotic motions. Naoya had to blink twice to confirm the woman by the door before he placed his arms down and froze.

Mari, who returned the man’s aghast expression with perplexion, had her dark brows crinkled. “What…Why are you looking at me like that?”

Even with Naoya’s face presently angled away, Toji could see his eyes widen at the ludicrous question. Yet, they both thought the same thing: did she forget where she was?

“What are you doing here? I did not expect you,” she continued. “But, I’m here for an…an appointment.”

Her voice trailed off.

When the woman finally seemed to remember that Toji was also there, her dark eyes rounded in alarm. Wait, her expression seemed to say as she very, very slowly dragged her sights to the man by the counter. Once her eyes met Toji’s, her jaw fell slack before she promptly slapped both hands over her gaping mouth.

With the two visitors transformed into Medusa's stone statues, Toji took great gratification in the perfect timing. This coincidence far exceeded his expectations because he honestly did not anticipate ever being in the same vicinity as Naoya and Mari, yet here he was. Presented this chance, Toji pushed his bottom lip out in fake thought and furrowed his brows, pointing at Mari then Naoya then at Mari again.

“Seems like you two know each other?” he asked in mock confusion, his finger swinging between the pair. “How come I didn’t get invited to the party? Has something been going on between my baby cousin and my ex-wife?”

No response.

So, he continued.

“What? Were you two spying on me or something?” (He knew the answer was yes.) “Or…wait,” and his voice dropped to a dangerous low, “Don’t tell me that you two…have been having an affair?”

Naoya—realizing the trap they had been set up in—swung his arm forward, prepared to defend them with whatever good lies he could spin (which Toji knew that he had a talent for), only for the woman to speak up first.

“We’re acquaintances.”

The manner in which Mari snapped caused Toji to pop a brow in surprise.

Oh? he noted. His suggestion on their illicit relationship appeared to strike a particular nerve. Even Naoya could sense the danger in his mistress’s overreaction as his eyes widened in horror. He tried to give her a warning expression, but she failed to see him.

By the way, did Naoya, know that Mari—well—wasn’t very streetsmart?

Maybe, but he likely prioritized keeping her in his bed to pay her absent wits any attention.

At this, Toji could not pass on the excellent opportunity to simultaneously provoke the two people who betrayed him.

“Just acquaintances?” he pressed.

“Yes.”

In another curt response, Mari pressed her lips into a firm line and shot Naoya a ‘shut the hell up and play along’ look, thinking she was slick when Toji only felt second-hand embarrassment from how utterly blatant the communication had been executed.

Pretending to nod along, Toji added, “Interesting. Because I never knew acquaintances called each other ‘baby.’”

Checkmate.

But the woman must not be thinking, as she sensed her inevitable defeat but hurriedly explained herself by saying, “It’s not what you think, Naoya and I haven’t had sex since—”

“Stop,” Toji interrupted before she could finish her sentence. That statement truly crossed the line. The lady must be inane. To talk about her dirty deeds with his relative as if that was appropriate! Clearly, she was oblivious to common sense and proper etiquette, given how she was desperate to try to save some face, resorting to the most crass justifications as if that would ameliorate the issue. Toji felt ashamed to think that he used to be married to this woman for years. While he noticed a fit of pique boiling within him, he ultimately let the ill feelings go. “I never asked about your sex lives. I don’t want to hear about what you two have been doing.”

Plus, the tabloids have shown him enough already.

Nonetheless, Mari’s face brewed with annoyance. She folded her arms firmly and tucked her chin outward. “Well, if that’s the case, then when and where I’m riding your cousin's dick should not matter!”

“Oh my fucking lord, stop talking already!” and this time, it was Naoya who spoke, shouting into his hands and cupping his face from sheer exasperation. He had been stunned speechless for a while but could no longer contain himself. When he picked up his head, he growled with rage as he raised a shaking finger at the woman. “You,” he seethed. “You’re saying all the wrong things! Holy fuck, bitch, how fucking blind are you? Unbelievable!” He leered to the side as if shaking off part of his rage, only to add on, “Just…Just shut the fuck up!”

The sudden, scathing comments soured Mari's mien in seconds. “Wait, but babe—”

“No.” Naoya cut her off right there. “Don’t ‘babe’ or ‘baby’ me with your bullshit anymore. Can’t you fucking see the atrocities you have fucking committed in the last ten minutes? You’re literally ruining my life! Even Y/N wouldn’t be stupid enough to say all the crap you just said! I should’ve never approached a dumb whore like you.”

While Toji had his eyes widened from silent bewilderment, tears began to roll down the woman's cheeks.

“That’s a lie!” For what must be her first time, she had to face the reality that, despite all the pleasure and company she offered Naoya Zenin after his tough days at work, he was an egotistical sociopath and a married man. "That's not what you've been telling me. You know I’m the only person who can make you happy, not the actual whore whom you have at home! These last few months, you would’ve been absolutely miserable without me!”

“Is that a threat?”

“It’s a reminder,” she hissed harshly. “You had said so yourself.”

At this point, Naoya found himself in the middle of a living nightmare.

To think about his wife who had been avoiding him for days, to see his loathsome cousin watch the scene like this was some sort of Netflix episode, and now to witness his mistress ridiculing him like a fucking fool.

“God dammit!” he roared. With animosity overwhelming his sanity, Naoya—who was already on the verge of destruction—only saw red as he lurched forward. He used his arms to sweep everything, all things, anything he could reach from a nearby tabletop onto the floor: a ceramic vase that shattered into shards, magazines that flew in all directions, a framed photograph that clinked upon descent. He didn’t stop there. Like a mid-tantrum toddler, he kicked angrily at the mess, sending paper and broken pottery flying in all directions without much regret for his actions.

In fact, this was cathartic for him. Because the very thing he wanted was to make his cousin's world wretched, just like how the latter had done to him.

“I'm going to find Y/N and bring her back to me, but if either of you…” the blonde warned several moments later, regarding the therapist and the woman with a deathly fire burning in his auburn eyes, “if either of you do more shit to ruin my life in the meantime, I...I will make you regret.”

With that, Naoya stormed off in a huff, releasing all the profanities that have manifested his anger throughout his life. Mari followed soon after, chasing after him in sobs.

Finally, as for Toji, well, he...was stunned.

He blinked thrice in the same second, processing what he had just seen.

He drew in a deep breath...

...and he chuckled.

He knew he looked crazy, laughing to himself in an empty and currently deranged parlor. However, Toji had not felt this triumphant and optimistic in years. He saw a hopeful gleam for himself, for his family, for his colleagues, and for you.

He picked up his phone with a languid grin, scrolling through his contacts and sending over a quick text when he found your name: Guess what?

last chapter || next chapter

end notes: Throughout this fic, Toji and Naoya obviously have a very complicated and terse cousin-ship. For weeks and months, I have been thinking about how to orchestrate this scene, where we see them together for the first time...and with Mari too. Likes and reblogs are appreciated, and let me know in the comments how you all are doing!

taglist: @dissociatingdiva @httpsplanetmarsdotcom @nemoyr @huangfairy @shadowarchon @203steph @agentdedf1sh @cloudybabes @lynn-writes-things @illicitwriter @7oji @kikuchimi @chaoticjojofan @musicisme333 @kumocchin @s-guru @mwahilovemylife @hey-gurls69 @cloudsinthecosmos @moon-mumu-moon @kazscara @skilerfrostfairy @funicidals @nico707 @proteovaldez @tsukiyohanayome @marimoares @qirbys @puffaloxx @sakanoshitaa @arizzu @kissditrio @lewd-bunny14 @mistyheart @szired @supsii @yvy1s @lazyassfinals @katkbc @tokyometronetwork @downtown-roponggi @the-cosmos-network

260 notes · View notes

mostlysignssomeportents · 2 years

Text

Medieval Times invents a modern union-busting tactic

In the summer of 2020, I committed a minor heresy: I published a column that argued that — contrary to the orthodoxy of free culture and free software advocates — the term “IP” has a very crisp meaning: “IP” is any law or rule that can be used to control one’s critics, competitors or customers:

https://locusmag.com/2020/09/cory-doctorow-ip/

In free culture/free software circles, the term “IP” is viewed as a smokescreen, one that indiscriminately blended a basket of unrelated regulations and laws (copyright, trademark, patent, trade secrets, anticircumvention, noncompetes, nondisclosure, etc) and then declared them to be “property” and thus sacred to the neoliberal religious doctrine.

In my column, I argued that the policies grouped under “IP” were not an incoherent mess — rather, they all shared this one trait that made them useful to those who had, advocated for, or tried to expand “IP”: they were tools that would allow you to reach beyond your own business’s walls and exert control over the conduct of others — specifically, competitors, critics and customers.

Take trademark: Apple engraves miniature logos onto the parts inside your iPhone, which you will likely never see. But these logos allow Apple to argue that when someone breaks up a dead iPhone for parts sells them to independent repair shops that compete with Apple’s repair monopoly, they are violating Apple’s trademarks:

https://www.vice.com/en/article/evk4wk/dhs-seizes-iphone-screens-jessa-jones

Or take DRM: DRM is useless for preventing copyright infringement (if you want to break the DRM on, say, an audiobook, you need only do a quick search). But because breaking DRM is illegal, Amazon’s Audible — the monopolist that controls the audiobook market — can prevent a rival like libro.fm from offering you a way to switch from Audible to its platform and move your audiobooks with them:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/07/25/can-you-hear-me-now/#acx-ripoff

Anyone performing a security audit of a modern digital product most likely violates some IP — either terms of service, or DRM, or both, or some other right. When these security researchers criticize manufacturers for their insecure products, the manufacturer can silence them with IP threats:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2018/10/canada-chile-security-researchers-have-rights-our-new-report

IP rights also prevent you from using the things you own in the way you want — they can control customers For example, IP rights allow your printer to refuse to print with ink of your choosing — it’s not that your printer can’t use that ink, rather, it won’t:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2020/11/ink-stained-wretches-battle-soul-digital-freedom-taking-place-inside-your-printer

Ever since I published that piece, I’ve noticed lots of examples of IP that fit within this box, and today, I found a particularly egregious one. Medieval Times has sued its workers’ union, Medieval Times Performers United, under trademark law:

https://www.huffpost.com/entry/medieval-times-sues-union-trademark_n_63485fa5e4b0b7f89f54546b

Medieval Times argues that its workers can’t call themselves “Medieval Times Performers United” because this will fool people into thinking that the company endorses the union, and that is a source of “consumer confusion,” and thus a trademark violation.

This is, of course, bullshit. Trademark contains a broad “nominative use” exception: trademark doesn’t let Coca-Cola stop Pepsi from claiming, “Our drink tastes better than Coke.” It doesn’t let HP prevent companies from advertising “HP-compatible ink cartridges.” It doesn’t let Apple prevent shops from saying “We fix iPhones.”

The union is contemplating mounting a defense at the National Labor Relations Board — not in a courtroom — “arguing that the lawsuit itself violates workers’ rights.”

It’s part of a broad union-busting campaign from Medieval Times, including anti-union “consultants” who bill $3,200/day. The performers are unionizing over pay, respect and workplace safety issues caused by inadequate staffing, especially staff who police the audience to prevent them from spooking the horses during jousting tournaments. Some performers have been attacked by drunken audience members.

https://www.huffpost.com/entry/medieval-times-workers-first-union_n_62bb1d29e4b0d26a9b14fa17

[Striking workers in front of a factory, being fired on by teargas. Between them and the factory are a pair of jousting knights in the style of a medieval tapestry. Behind the factory looms a giant, ogrish boss in a top-hat, chomping a cigar. He is pulling on a lever made from a stylized dollar sign. In one gloved hand, he holds aloft a medieval night, who is bent over in supplication.]

#pluralistic

2K notes · View notes

doiefics · 10 months

Text

07:25 am

pairing: jaehyun x afab!reader

genre: fluff + newly married!au

wordcount: 368

warnings: slightly suggestive

Your eyes opened up without a set alarm, as they were accustomed to doing by this point, blinking a few times only to realise there was no work to go to today.

Turning to your side, you looked at Jaehyun, who was snuggled up and sound asleep like a baby. Your body was pressed up against his smooth, bare skin, feeling the tingling of his dark hair.

You pushed your fingers through his black locks, caressing them and feeling the warmth between the two of you, without noticing that he was asleep no more.

He hummed in response to your actions, placing soft kisses and rubbing his hand around your waist, half asleep, still.

"Good morning, wifey." Jaehyun raised his body and drew it nearer to your face, grinning through his deep morning voice.

"I can't believe we got married yesterday." You gushed, cupping his cheeks and placing a kiss on the lips, not forgetting to poke those pretty dimples of his. "You're now my husband for real, Jaehyun!"

"It still feels the same!" He exclaimed, fixing your hair back into place. "You, me, our names, the hickey on my shoulder, they're all the same!" Some days he was just shameless, and today was one of those days.

You grabbed his hand, brushing your finger around the wedding band as he gazed into your eyes, a smile never leaving his face.

"I'm glad we at least get a week off from work!" You laughed.

"That means a week full of sex!" He replied.

Jaehyun tightened his grip on you as he switched positions, your face was now placed on his chest, as his free hand ran up and down your back this time, the other one still holding your hand.

"I promise I'll be a great husband, even when we have grandkids." He expressed with a sincere tone out of a sudden.

"If that's the case, then.." You started to trace his bare torso.

"Have we already thought about our kids?" You made a lighthearted joke.

"Of course! I’ve even prepared possible names!" Jaehyun enthused, flashing a bright smile.

"Then?" He asked, pretending as if he didn’t even know where babies came from, purposely.

"We should get to business right away!"

masterlist please refrain from plagiarising, translating or posting outside of this platform

have a request? prompt fic game is OPEN!

363 notes · View notes

blondrichclosetwitch · 3 months

Text

#today is a 25/16/07

0 notes

trash1129 · 1 year

Text

×,.·´¨'°÷·..§SELF-SABOTAGE§.·´¨'°÷·.. -a Soobin smau (+ written chapters)

Summary: After (Y/n) breaks up with her ex, Do Jaeyi, she isn’t left alone by him. Finally after being bothered nonstop, she breaks and tells him she is dating her high school rival, Choi Soobin. Now they are left to keep up the act of being a couple till this all blows over. Little does (Y/n) know Soobin has been waiting for a chance like this.

a/n: here we go again with me attempting another smau! I’m more excited about this one because I actually planned stuff for once :D I really wanted to try my hand again at one of these and wanted to try an enemies to lovers type situation

☆Rating: 16+

☆Release date: March 2nd, 2023

☆Ending date: August 15th, 2023

☆Status: ended

☆Pairing: Choi Soobin x Fem! Reader, mentions of past relationship with an OC, and maybe some pairings on the side if I wanna add some spice ;D

☆Content: smau with written chapters, fluff, crack (idk if it really is bc I don’t really think I’m that funny), some angst at some point tbh, fake dating, semi-enemies to lovers, semi-mutual pining, psych major!(y/n), dancer!(y/n), psych major!soobin, barista!beomgyu, college!au, slow burn ig???

☆Warnings: lots of swearing (I have potty mouth myself so they all will too), some suggestive parts maybe and some mentions of sex but no smut bc smut isn’t something I write, chapters may be long idk yet, I didn’t really pay attention to like grade levels in relation to age so we don’t need to pay attention to if it’s accurate or not

☆Featuring: the rest of txt, lee chaeyeon (iz*one/solo), Lucy (weki meki), probably some other idols in passing

DISCLAIMER: This is a piece of pure fiction and do not represent txt artist, iz*one/solo artist, weki meki artist, any other artist or reflect their actual selves or morals. All in this fan fiction is 100% fake and not real at all

Profiles:

The ass shakers

Soobin’s emotional support group

Chapters:

01. ONE OF US RRRAHHHHHHHHH🦅

02. You see how easy it is to lie?

03. Twinkle toes

04. Don’t HMU😣😭😿💔

05. I’m meeting Lucifer today! (Written, 1.9k + sns) unedited

06. That's the spirit!

07. That is a (Y/n) response

08. Very Soobin core

09. Is that Choi Beomgyu?

10. Soob is a broke ass bitch

11. I was threatened 🥺🥺 (Written, 2k + sns) unedited

12. I do but I don’t :D

13. Darling baby girl

14. FEED ME

15. Slay or be slain

16. Mean girls Christmas routine

17. Love birds (Written, 3.6k) unedited

18. Because sleepover :)))

19. In the words of Twice

20. And I’m Hyojeong

21. SHUT UP ITS GIRLS NIGHT

22. Skill issue

23. Keep my wife’s name out of your mouth

24. I’m concerned (Written, 1.2k + sns) unedited

25. No pics🗣️ No proof🗣️

26. Not you too

27. Oh f*ck

28. Prettiest face I’ve ever seen

29. …what?😃

30. I know. I’ve known.

31. fanfic levels

32. Master manipulator (written, 1.9k + sns) unedited

33. Crush (written, 2k) unedited

34. Limited addition animal crossing switch

35. Epilogue

Bonus!: New privs

Bonus 2!: Daily bf texts

553 notes · View notes

crossdreamers · 8 months

Text

Not long ago people attacked gay and lesbian people for being sexual predators. These days the same arguments are used against trans people.

Right wing extremists and left wing “trans-exclusionary radical feminists” (TERFs) are arguing that trans women are a threat to cis women and children. The tactic is to sexualize transgender people, reducing their gender identity to some kind of perversion.

This is not in any way a new tactic, historically. It has been used against feminists, people of color and gay men and lesbian women.

So, you might ask why lesbian are using the same tactics against trans people, as straight, cis, people used against their kind. They have clearly learned nothing from history.

Over at twitter The Implausible Girl has collected a wide variety of newspaper clippings documenting the arguments used against gay men and lesbian women. I will present some of them here.

The Cult Argument

One typical argument used about trans people is that they are part of a cult that uses propaganda to harm cis people. The same argument was used against gay people.

The Baltimore Sun (Baltimore, MD) 1997-07-20

The Signal (Santa Clarita, California). 1999-01-15

The Criminal Myth

In the same way trans women are presented as criminals these days, gay men and lesbian women were considered lawless in the 20th century.

Democrat and Chronicle (Rochester, NY) 1964-03-15

The Daily Chronicle, 1977-04-12

The Deception Myth

The fact that gay men and lesbian women were forced into the closet by transphobes, was used against them by the same transphobes. They were considered deceptive and dishonest. The same applies to trans people today.

Leader-Telegram (Eau Claire, Wisconsin) 1993-12-03

Hartford Courant, 1997-06-14

The Oppressor is the Victim Myth

When gay men and lesbian people fought for respect and acceptance, their straight oppressors immediately presented themselves as victims. These days lesbian TERFs spread the lie that the trans cause is weakening the lesbian cause.

The argument that “gender ideology” threatens religious liberty is the exact same argument as the one used against gay and lesbian people in the 20th century.

The Indianapolis News 1974-04-20

The Tennessean 1989-09-20

The Trender/Fad Myth

These days we are told that trans kinds are victims of a fad. They are “trans trenders”. The exact same argument was used against gay and lesbian people.

The Coos Bay Times, 1956-10-04

Calgary Herald, 1970-06-13

The Sexual Predator Myth

Female rebels used to be called "sluts” and “nymphomaniacs” by the servants of the Patriarchy. Black people had to use separate bathrooms in South Africa and the American South, to “protect” white women and children for irrational, hypersexual, black men and women. Finally, lesbian and gay people were considered part of an evil conspiracy aimed at turning “decent kids and women” into sexual deviants.

The Courier-Journal (Lousiville, KY) 1975-10-25

Carrizozo Lincoln County News, page 4 1985-08-01

The Binary is Common Sense Myth

People who know little about science or the diversity of religious beliefs seem to think that the sexual binary (we are all born straight) and the gender binary (biological sex equals gender identity) are self evident. Moreover, they think this dogma is supported by science and religion.

Lesbian TERFs, who are themselves victims of this nonsense, are now using this argument against trans people.

The Pantagraph (Bloomington, IL) 1986-04-24

The Signal (Santa Clara, CA) 1996-08-13

Baxter Bulletin (Mountain Home, AK) 1999-03-09

The Free Speech Argument

In democracies oppressors have always hidden their bigotry behind the free speech argument. Apparently they think that free speech legitimizes hate speech and violence. For some reason the argument for free speech is not applied to their victims, gay or trans people.

Enterprise-Journal (McComb, MI) 1998-10-11

Keeping Lesbians/Trans Women out of the Feminist Movement

TERFs want to keep trans women out of the feminist movement. It wasn’t that long ago, straight feminists wanted to exclude lesbian women from the feminist movement.

The Bee (Danville, VA) 1977-11-21

To conclude: The current transpohbia is driven by the exact same kind of prejudice as homophobia, with the transphobes using the same stereotypes, the same narratives and the same kind of fear mongering.

More clippings here.

#transgender #homosexual #trans #nonbinary #transphobia #homophobia #politics #lgbtq #lgbt #history #queer history #queer

128 notes · View notes

alicewritten · 9 months

Text

virtual journal, 25/07

the past days the weather has been a disaster, but this morning i’m simply grateful for the fresh autumn air, i went out for breakfast to breathe it in

🪺 thoughts: my erasmus could be a great exercise in taking myself out on dates, i feel drawn to visual work again (<- so do it!)

🪷 for today: read for an hour, put up books/clothes on vinted, journal, laundry, meet up with my landlord (scary!), draw

#alicewritten #spilled journal #studyblr #virtual journaling #studyinspo #bookblr #dark academia #light academia #bookish #currently reading #100 days of productivity #100dop #note to self #commonplace book #study motivation #self healing #softcore #soft aesthetic

102 notes · View notes

sparklingchim · 2 years

Text

long way home 23 | jjk

pairing: jungkook x reader

word count: 2.1k

genre: dilf!jungkook, friends to lovers, angst

rating: pg

warnings: they have The Talk !!!!!! raw emotions, rejection ... , just lots lots los of different feelings 🫂

summary: the one where jungkook explains himself

a/n: it's my birthday today, so here's a lwh update as a liddol gift <3

chapters: 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08| 09 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 |

masterlist | long way home masterlist

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

Sundays are for reading books.

This is a serious law that you have adhered to since you became obsessed with devoting all your free time to fictional characters.

With a romance fantasy book in your hand, you pad into your living room. You're in the mood for some romance today - sickeningly sweet subtle interactions and heart-wrenching love confessions kinda romance.

Before you plop down on your couch, you hear your doorbell ring.

Not letting go of your book, you walk towards the door.

You peer through the peephole. Your breath catches in your throat.

It's Jungkook.

Now, you have two choices. Ignore him and read your book or let him in and see where that leads. You could always tell him to leave if it's too much for you.

Without giving it a second thought, you open the door.

"Hey," Jungkook greets you. He has a tight lipped smile gracing his face, deciphering the mood you're in and deciding that you're not completely hating him - at least now - judging from the way he relaxes his shoulders.

"Hi," you answer.

"I thought...maybe we could talk?" Jungkook's injury on his lip has subsided. It's barely noticeable.

You should talk. It's long overdue.

"Come in." You make room for him to enter the apartment and Jungkook takes his shoes off.

"Were you reading?" Jungkook points at the book in your hand.

"I was about to start, but then you rang the bell," you say as you lead him to the living room.

You place the book on the coffee table before you sit down on the couch with Jungkook.

One question is tickling your tongue. You clear your throat, feigned nonchalance unfurls on your features.

"Where is Nabi?"

"Ah," Jungkook blows. A trace of penitence dwells on his sigh. "Namjoon's watching over her. I asked if he could come over while I talk to you."

A crease appears between your eyebrows when you ask, "Namjoon is babysitting Nabi?"

"I hope he's not too overwhelmed by it." Jungkook plucks his phone out of his pocket. "I told him he could call if something's wrong." He examines his phone. "I guess he's doing fine."

"Sora didn't have time?"

Jungkook looks up. His temple flexes as he clenches his jaw at your unexpected question.

"Sora..." Jungkook's voice tapers off. He looks as if he's sifting through his mind for the proper words before resting his elbows on his knees and retorts, "Sora left." His gaze moves to the floor, almost a little ashamed.

Your skin turns cold. Eyes widening at Jungkook's startling revelation. "What do you mean she left?"

"She said she wasn't ready for this. Couldn't imagine herself raising a child in the long term." Jungkook nibbles on his lip piercing before he continues. "And then she grabbed her things and left. For good."

When you think about it, you're not even surprised. If she has already left Nabi once with Jungkook, she will have no problem doing it again.

You scoff. Jungkook drifts his eyes back to you. "And now that she has dumped you for a second time, you come back to me?"

"I've been trying to get a hold of your for weeks, y/n." He returns your accusation with raised brows. "She left about...three days ago?"

"How has it been?" you ask, noting the dark circles beneath his eyes. Your heart clenches unbridledly.

"I've been bringing Nabi to work every day." Jungkook utters a humourless laugh. "The kids love her, but she hates all the noise. Nabi is hardly able to fall asleep. And when she does, she doesn't take a full nap." Jungkook rakes his fingers through his hair. "It's been a little difficult. But I'm managing."

"Did you really not see this coming?" It's a genuine question. Has he really trusted Sora enough to let her in Nabi's life again? Did he assume that she wouldn't leave them?

"Can you really blame me for wishing that Nabi grows up with an equally good relationship with her parents?"

"Yeah." You nod, crossing your arms. "I can blame you for wishing that if it involves lying to me."

Jungkook closes his eyes. He rubs his hands over his face. A clipped, agonised groan flies past Jungkook's lips, smothered by his palms.

"I-" he starts as he lets his hands fall into his lap. "I'm really fucking sorry." He meets your stare and Jungkook's doe eyes are teeming with dazzles of sorrow and guilt. "I don't know, I just - I didn't tell you anything because... admitting that I allowed Sora back in Nabi's life like admitting that I was weak? That I had officially given up as a dad and wasn't capable of raising her own my own?" After a moment's pause to chew on the inside of his cheek, finding the vulnerability he's displaying a little challenging, he adds, "I didn't want you to see me like that. And before I could say anything to you, it was already too late"

A mix of confusion and hurt hits you. "Why did you think I would assume that?"

"It wouldn't have been the first time you doubted me as a dad."

When you had the conversation at the coffee shop, you remember. You may have said some harsh words, but only because he practically forced you with his reckless actions at the time. "You were pretty irresponsible back then, tho."

"I know," Jungkook admits. "But I didn't want you to think of me like that again." Jungkook leans back on the couch. "When I met Sora again for the first time, she gave me the impression that she genuinely wanted to be part of Nabi's life again. So I thought why not give her a second chance? I thought maybe every thing could work out. Sora could move close by, Nabi could have both of her parents growing up. I wouldn't have issues with babysitting anymore," he lists, counting on his fingers all the problems that would have disappeared if Sora had simply stayed.

Jungkook's voice is small when he says, "We could have somewhat be a nuclear family for Nabi." He leans forward again. "I felt that Nabi would need that growing up. To have both parents around to keep her happy and not miss anything." Jungkook cocks his head, tongue in cheek. "And then she decided to leave." He emits a bitter exhale. "I guess I wanted too much and in the end I had nothing."

"Maybe she pretended and came back because she wanted you," you say.

"What do you mean?" Bewilderment contorts his face.

"Maybe she didn't care for Nabi," you explain, but Jungkook has his eyebrows tightly furrowed. "C'mon, Jungkook. I know you two had something going on."

"There was nothing." Jungkook shakes his head. "She stayed at my place because her motel had some issues with their rooms."

"So you let her sleep in your bed."

"Just a few times because I felt bad to make her sleep on the couch."

"In your clothes?"

"That was only once because her pyjamas were still drying after I had washed her clothes." Jungkook's eyes are big as he desperate tries to make you understand him.

You shrug. "If you say so." You believe him, but remain apathetic. Jungkook doesn't need to know that imagining him being with Sora again had hurt you a lot.

Silence lingers in the air before Jungkook breaks it.

"Y'know," he begins, lip piercing between his teeth again as he gathers his thoughts. "After Sora left I realised something." He pauses, then, "Nabi doesn't need a perfect, nuclear family to grow up. I was in the believe that she needed that, but that's not true." Jungkook rubs his hands over his thighs. "It's okay if she has only me as a parent. She doesn't necessarily need a mum - a mother figure. At least " - His eyes flicker to you - "At least no biological mother."

Your heart topples over. Falling down down down into an endless hole with no return back. Dragging along your rational thoughts.

Oh, Jungkook.

But you force yourself to stay calm. "You really hurt me," you say.

"I'm sorry. For everything."

"I just don't understand why you couldn't be honest with me." You blink away tears. Exchanging a heartfelt conversation - that was due a long time ago - and exposing your raw feelings with Jungkook left you a little emotional. "Is that too much to ask for? After nine years of friendship, it's the least I expected from you, Jungkook."

"I was scared of what you'd think of my decision," he reveals. "I wanted you to think of me as a good father. I didn't want to hear you call me irresponsible again."

"There were reasons for the things I said," you remind him coldly. You didn't throw those terms around for no reason.

"I'm just telling you that's why I kept it from you that Sora came back into Nabi's life."

You huff. You're getting frustrated with Jungkook's tenuous excuses. "I can't believe that's why you decided to lie."

"Your words stuck with me," Jungkook says.

"I was just expressing my feelings back then. You kept dismissing my feelings and taking me for granted, Jungkook." You roll your eyes. "As long as you had talked to me and told me why you thought it was a good choice to bring Sora back, I wouldn't have said anything remotely close."

Just thinking of how badly Jungkook had treated you ignites anger in the pit of your stomach.

"Do you think I would have ever said anything if you had actually kept your promises?" You rise to your feet. "I was late for meetups and had to cancel plans because of you!" you reprimand. "Don't try to blame me for your botched decisions."

At that, Jungkook gets on his feet too. "I hate when you do this," he rejoins.

"Do what ?!" You throw your hands up in frustration.

"Put words in my mouth that I've never said!" A red flush spreads along his cheeks as he gets angrier. "I've never blamed you for anything, y/n. I know it's my fault. I know that I fucked everything up." Jungkooks eyebrows knit. "You're pulling the same shit you did a couple weeks ago. When you said you're not good enough."

You know exactly what he's referring to. That day is burned into you memory, even if you desperately try to forget it.

"I never said that you aren't enough for me, y/n. I said Sora's better than what I have at the moment because she has the same responsibility as I have. I know you tried to help me with Nabi, and I will be eternally grateful to you for that, but I needed someone permanently. And I can't ask that of you. I've already gone too far a few times," he says.

The angry crimson is still visible on his face. "So please, don't put words into my mouth I've never said!" Jungkook strides forward. "You are enough, y/n! You're the best thing that has ever happened to me and I fucking hate myself for hurting you and treating you the way I did."

He needs to stop. The things he says contradicts how you feel about him at the moment.

"Why are you doing this?!" you yell in annoyance.

"Because I love you!"

"Jungkook, I love you too, but I-"

Jungkook gathers your hands in his. The step he takes forward makes you close your mouth.

"I love you," he says.

Three words.

And yet so difficult to comprehend.

"I have feelings for you, y/n. I've fallen for you. Really fucking deep. And I can't allow you to give up on us because of a stupid mistake I made, because I need you." Jungkook clutches your hands tightly.

Your heart pounds against your chest. Your whole body feels numb. This is not how you imagined your conversation to go. This is not how you wanted it to go.

Your brain is rattling for a reply. But you come up empty-handed. You're speechless.

Jungkook doesn't mean it. You don't even doubt it. He can't possibly be speaking the truth right now. It's not possible.

You open your mouth. But no words flutter past your lips. Just a deep breath because you stopped breathing the moment he reached for your hands.

Jungkook stares at you. And you see the exact moment as the light goes out of his eyes, as the vulnerability gives way to the pain.

You can't do this.

Not now.

Not if you are overwhelmed by too many feelings swirling around inside you.

"Jungkook?" You twist your hands out of his grasp. "Can you leave, please?"

When the door shuts close you let your pent up tears stream down your cheeks.

#jeon jungkook #jungkook angst #dilf jungkook #jungkook imagine #jungkook fanfic #jungkook scenario #jungkook x reader #jungkook fic #bts angst #bts fic #bts x reader #bts imagine #bts scenario

2K notes · View notes

motherdanger · 7 months

Text

Sawtober 2023 | Day 07: Coffin

I always thought Adam's coffin was the bathtub because as soon as they laid him there, he was dead.... But anyway! Two birds with one stone here: I've been thinking about ghost!Adam a lot, but my last two drawings for Sawtober were too sad, so how about a fun ghost!Adam for today! Adam Stanheight: He slayed in life, he slayed when he was dying, now, he's slaying in death!

Full prompt list here. 🐝

01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28 | 29 | 30 | 31

77 notes · View notes

jiminjamms · 1 year

Text

sex therapy :: 17. wicked games

chapter tags/warnings: family drama. mentions of masturbation. mentions of sex. infidelity/adultery. nonconsensual acts. manipulative undertones. strong language. classism.

word count: 3.6k

notes: this chapter incorporates the official manga relationships in the zenin household (link that illustrates the family tree). without further ado, i present to you the latest pov added to the fic: toji! likes, comments, and reblogs are deeply appreciated. xoxo

fic masterlist | 01. 02. 03. 04. 05. 06. 07. 08. 09. 10. 11. 12. 13. 14. 15. 16. 17. 18. 19. 20. 21. 22. 23. 24. 25. 26. 27. 28. 29. 30. 31. 32. 33.

Toji Fushiguro could not get his mind off of you.

Was that weird to admit?

When he last saw you two weeks ago in Teyvat’s meeting room, dolled up in that pretty pink dress, he had to wrestle every urge to push you onto his dick. All the times he had to retreat to his room afterward too—all because your one outfit had set off his imagination—forcing Toji to lock and then lean against his door so that he could palm himself through his sweats to dirty thoughts about you.

Gosh, what higher being in the universe allowed you to be such a hot and sexy tease? You sure loved prancing around with basically nothing and stealing looks at his colleagues as though he wouldn’t notice.

At this point, Toji was certain that he wasn’t the only therapist calling dibs on you. That most definitely pissed him off, though, because he explicitly told you that your pussy belonged to him.

Then why hadn’t you made another appointment these past two weeks?

Were you upset, perhaps flushed with utter denial, from the revelation that your husband had been cheating on you? Besides, he recalled how you had reacted so strongly to the information, racing away from the therapists who were just being honest with you.

In hindsight, Toji might have felt a teeny tiny bit bad about crushing your rose-colored glasses without much lead-up, but he was rarely the type to beat around the bush anyway. After all, he was the one to suggest a divorce in your first therapist appointment.

Of all things, echoing laughter was what finally grounded Toji’s wandering mind.

His green eyes fluttered rapidly, realizing that he had been in his office and staring blankly at his desk for... how long has this been? He glanced briefly at his tabletop clock. When he noticed how the time had advanced by thirty minutes, Toji rested his forehead on his left palm. “Damn...”

Given how he had a fully booked schedule today, he could not afford to dawdle in his thoughts. He had not noticed that half an hour had passed so quickly. How was it possible that thinking about one person (you) made him lose all sense of time?

He could do better than this.

‘Maybe you’re the one who needs a therapist,’ Megumi had recently pointed out to him in irony, and boy, do these words from his own eighteen-year-old son sting.

In contrast to himself, though, his co-workers had lately been in higher spirits than usual. That much Toji could ascertain given the hubbub that continued to filter into his suite. He would not have minded the phenomenon much had it not been for this gut feeling, this hunch, that you were the reason behind this change.

At his age, Toji has learned to mind his own business, but he still considered joining his colleagues by the reception desk to investigate. He stopped, however, upon noticing an article at his desk.

Right, this was what had derailed Toji from his work.

‘Look at this, boss,’ Geto had said when he first presented the printed webpage to Toji. ‘No wonder Y/N’s been lonely. Naoya literally took his side bitch to Mexico.’

The accompanying photo may be in low resolution, but Toji recognized the two figures hand-in-hand, stepping into a private jet. Their faces were shielded by baseball caps and face masks, their bodies clad in boring and baggy clothes. Consequently, Toji had to scoff, drumming his fingers along his cheekbone.

Another impeccable snapshot for our collection, huh?

Quite the scandal was brewing in Japan’s high society, not to mention how the illicit relationship involved your husband, and the therapists were merely here for the show. This was what the therapists were trying to advise you about before you promptly shut yourself away from them.

The love affair—especially involving a family as influential as the Zenin’s—should theoretically be all over magazines and newspapers, but any internet search for this image would prove futile. The Zenins were good like that, relying on under-the-table tactics to ensure that this photo would go nowhere.

Only thanks to his colleagues, who had extensive contacts throughout Japan’s many ranks, was Toji able to get his hands on this printed article before the magazine editors had taken them down.

Naoya, that cunning bastard.

If he had been in Cabo prancing around with his paramour, how did he so quickly realize that his images had been circulating among Japanese media? Or, more likely, was it his authoritarian father Naobito who informed his doltish son about the impending rumors?

Either way, Toji could not believe that he was affiliated with both assholes by blood, no less: Naoya, his cousin, and Naobito, his uncle. To think how he was involved again with the relatives who he had sought to avoid, Toji assumed that fate must love toying with him.

Already, growing up in the Zenin family was hell, to put things mildly: how they would obsess over power and prestige as though those two items alone determined one’s value as a human being, how they would scrutinize one’s every action because everything had to conform to their cookie-cutter standards, and then how they would abruptly cast aside those who strayed away from their ideals.

Toji, once an established member of the household, could speak from experience. Thus, blood relation meant nothing if these were the same people who had prayed for his downfall.

He recalled his relatives’ dirty glances when he announced his engagement twenty years ago, then the even nastier looks when he took his first wife’s surname as his own: Fushiguro. ‘She’s a woman too low for our caliber,’ Toji had been told.

He remembered the apathy he later received after his wife’s untimely death, followed by belittlement when he chose to marry again—this time, to a single mother. Perhaps he should have heeded his family’s advice for the last bit, but his decisions seemed right at the moment. During a desperate time, he provided his then-gradeschool son with a much-needed maternal figure as well as a stepsister.

His personal life already made him a deviant among his relatives, so when his family discovered his therapist ventures earlier this year, Toji was not surprised to be severed from the household he once had been considered to lead. Well, Toji was more relieved than bitter, anyway. He could now live life on his terms without worrying about what his father’s uncle’s second cousin twice-removed or some crap like that thought about him and his son.

As he gazed upon the pixelated photo again, he sighed and wondered: was this how low the Zenins have stooped since they had expelled him? A centuries-old bloodline built on relationships with the public and the powerful, now resorting to bribes and threats to sweep scandals under the rug? While watching the Zenin clan burn from afar was entertaining, the situation was also pathetic and sad.

To also think that his moronic cousin Naoya was now not only the household heir but also the current CEO of the family conglomerate. Not to mention that the family’s current patriarch Naobito seemingly turned a blind eye to Naoya’s flings. The older Zenin might have been a brilliant businessman back in the early ‘90s, but his elderly brain had deteriorated too far to see how, at this rate, his son would eventually drive the company and the prideful family to the ground.

Had you realized what you married into?

Probably not, but you didn’t deserve this.

Or, to put things the other way around, the Zenin family didn’t deserve you.

“Yo!”

Toji shot up from his seat just as his door crashed against the wall.

He turned to the sound’s source in surprise. Leaning against the entryway stood a personage with his white lab coat draped over his unsurprisingly shirtless chest. The incomer crossed his thick arms over his half-exposed tattoos, but one such arm frees itself to greet Toji with a mocking wave.

“Sukuna,” the older therapist grumbled, “I’ve told you to knock first.”

“Why?” the pink-haired man challenged, not caring how this must have been the hundredth time he heard the order. For him, this was in one ear and out the other. Rather than mind the complaint, he inspected his newly filed nails. “Worried I would walk into you fingering Mrs. Zenin again?”

“Only because that’ll make you jealous,” Toji retorted with equal spite, to which his colleague chose not to respond anymore.

Besides, as a savvy businessman, Sukuna knew how to pick his battles. He might come off as crude, but only because he understood that, with his financial acumen and incredible connections, he was an indispensable asset.

After some silence, Sukuna’s chest rose and fell with a long sigh. “Well, check your schedule, Fushiguro. You have an appointment coming up now.” Not only was he the most well-organized therapist but also the current receptionist on duty. He then huffed again. “Tsumiki’s mom has been waiting for you. I don’t know how you deal with such an impatient bitch. What the hell am I supposed to do when—"

And a hand shoved his face away before he could finish.

Sukuna, flinching from the unexpected approach, recoiled at a beaming woman that peered in from the door frame. Anyone would immediately notice that the overly excited client was beautiful. The plush of her full lips, the gentle arches to her face, the roundness in her doe-like eyes—her looks were akin to an angel constantly in awe. Most people could hardly believe that, with her youthful looks, she actually had a university-aged daughter (with whom Toji could see a strong resemblance, too).

Meanwhile, her large brown eyes scanned the office—the posters, the couch, the nearby mirror—until her gaze landed on Toji and lit up.

“Honey, I’ve missed you!”

Before someone could stop her, the woman welcomed herself into the premises, her lithe limbs swaying with her graceful figure. She sported a simple navy dress that contrasted with her true self because, as far as Toji knew, this woman was anything but simple.

In fact, as she sashayed into the room uninvited, Toji remembered the paparazzi pictures still sprawled on his desk. He caught Sukuna’s maroon gaze and scowled.

This is why I tell you to knock.

Hurriedly, Toji then pushed the photos under some files just as his client seated herself in the sofa seat closest to him. She then turned to her escort in the hall. “Thank you, Sukuna. You’re such a wonderful man.”

She might be oblivious to Sukuna’s irritation, but Toji did not miss the way his colleague hid a gag and rolled his eyes. “M'kay, whatever,” the pink-haired therapist muttered as he slinked back into the corridor.

Then, when Sukuna shut the door with him, she pressed her rosy lips together. “Aw, Strawberry Boy doesn’t want to join us. Guess he likes to play hard to get.”

“Mari,” Toji started, placing his right ankle over the other knee. He rested his back against his chair and held his hands behind his neck. “I do not think neither Sukuna nor any other therapist here is interested in you. Therefore, if you are seeking a summertime fling, I’d suggest you pursue someone else.”

Shot down, an exasperated Mari tossed her dark locks to one side, a die-hard habit of hers. “Like who?”

Like Naoya.

It was hilarious for Toji to think about how he was entangled with his cousin’s mistress, the very same lover in that paparazzi photo with the young executive. In fact, Toji had this theory that Naoya sent Mari here as a Trojan horse, a seemingly harmless client whose actual intention was to gather intel for the Zenin CEO from afar, a pretty façade to lure others into ruins. He didn’t have much evidence to back up the suspicion (yet), but he knew Naoya for long enough to be familiar with the silly games he’d play. Did Naoya and Mari really think that Toji would be so naïve?

“Well, in Tokyo, there are plenty of ways to meet people your age,” he finally suggested and had to suppress a slight smile before adding, “Unless...you’re into younger guys?”

Mari narrowed her eyes but for a millisecond. Had Toji not been at the top of his field, he would not have noticed. Nothing, however, got past him.

“But,” she responded, “I still like you most because you give me your time, Toji.”

Interesting. Because that would mean Naoya had been too busy for his poor sweetheart, hm?

No wonder Mari had been so frustrated. Life must be tough when one was merely the mistress of the Zenin Corporation’s CEO. Not only was Naoya Zenin a mediocre performer in bed, but the homewrecker role also came with no fancy balls, no formal recognition, and—if the affair was well-hidden—not enough public attention either.

Pity.

Toji leaned forward in one fluid motion, resting his elbows on his desk. “Do not misunderstand my intentions, though,” he clarified while lacing his fingers. “I spend time with you because, as your therapist, I am sadly obligated to do so.”

The woman frowned.

“Now, that’s not nice,” she pointed out, allowing her staccato to afflict him with guilt. "That’s not how to talk to your wife, my dear husband.”

And Toji snapped.

“Ex-husband,” he corrected forcefully. His startled client jerked backward in her seat, but that didn’t matter because he had to sternly remind her, “You were the one who filed for divorce, remember?”

Toji liked to think that he was a patient man. Well, he had to be. As he grew up, the pressure that came with the Zenin spotlight taught him to exert self-discipline and emotional regulation, skills that became even more pertinent in his current role.

As a licensed practitioner now, Toji was obligated to treat all clients equally regardless of background. But under no circumstance could he remove all biases when this was the very woman who split up with him, leaving his son Megumi and his stepdaughter Tsumiki under his care. Therefore, she had quite the audacity to keep visiting him at his office and still call him her husband, especially since she was Naoya’s mistress!

How sinister life could be. For years, no one—not even Toji himself—would have seen this coming: how his second wife would leave him, citing ‘irreconcilable differences’ on the divorce papers, only to become his first cousin’s secret girlfriend.

His sudden confrontation, however, must have caught Mari off-guard, for she began twirling at her strands again. “Just because we aren’t married anymore does not mean that I don’t think about you. It’s been so long since we’ve—"

“Three days,” Toji interjected. He had to hold his breath before his annoyance controlled him completely. “The last time you saw me was three days ago. That isn’t much long ago at all.”

The silence that ensued was admittedly awkward until Mari suddenly stood up.

For a moment, Toji had to hide his relief thinking that the appointment would end earlier than anticipated, but he should have known that Mari wouldn’t leave that easily. Instead, she approached him in slow steps, encircling the seated therapist like a vulture.

When she drew near, her hands skimmed up from his brawny arms to his equally well-built shoulder blades, gliding over his lab coat before her warm palms began to knead at his tired muscles.

“I...think about you more than I’d like to admit,” she whispered, an incantation that could set any lustful man’s heart ablaze. Her fingers continued to massage him in slow and circular motions, the gentle pressure over tight knots melting into a calm and comforting rhythm. “I care about you so...don’t be mean to me, alright? The words you sometimes say, they hurt me a lot.”

Her delicate hands crawled up to his chin next, her left thumb tugging at the plush pillow of his lower lip. The most dangerous thing about Mari wasn't how she embodied a young lady’s exuberance with a mature woman’s elegance. Rather, it was her ability to place spells like these. Back when he had less self-respect, Toji might have forgiven her and caved in, her simple but flirtatious touches like trances that could crumble his resolve.

But you still fuck your ex-wife?

Of all moments, your words from weeks ago decided to haunt him now, your revolted expression a clear image in his memory. His heavy-lidded eyes batted quickly as he came to a realization: Why was he doing this?

In the revelation, Toji stopped Mari’s wandering hands from traveling toward his black slacks.

“Mari,” he said very firmly. As he pulled her away from him, his green eyes held her shimmering brown ones. “No.”

“What?” Given the woman’s visible surprise, Toji could also imagine the smoke that fumed from her nose. After all, this was the same man who once would go weak on his knees for her. Mari stepped back, folding her arms defensively. “Why not?”

“You say that my words hurt you, but I would argue that you’ve hurt me far more,” the therapist explained. As he regained composure, he twirled his chair so that he could face his client squarely. “Have you heard? Your own daughter Tsumiki isn’t even returning to Tokyo for her university’s summer break because she is too ashamed to see you.”

“Good!” she shot, surprising the man with her soured temper. “Would not have cared to hear from her either! Tsumiki had always sided with you and your urchin-headed son. But you know what? You’ve changed, Toji. You, and all the other therapists here, too. I don’t know what has been up with you four, but this clinic was far better back when Naoya worked here.”

Toji had a talent for hiding the whirr behind his thoughts, but he could not conceal his surprise this time. Although he wanted to, he never bothered to mention Naoya in his appointments with Mari before. However, it turned out he didn’t have to be the first one to bring up his cousin since Mari did so herself. Had she not reminded him, Toji would’ve forgotten that Naoya was once a sex therapist too, the family pair once working several doors away from each other.

Since the opportunity already presented itself, Toji took the chance to inveigle his ex-wife. He stood up from his office chair and closed the little gap between him and his glaring client.

“Let me tell you something,” Toji started, his voice low but steady. “You genuinely think Naoya is all that great of a person? That man has received countless complaints from his former clients about manipulation and derogatory remarks. He’s disrespectful. He’s deceptive. He's a complete con man. Therefore, I would actually argue that our office is much, much better without that elitist and misogynistic asshole.”

Come on, woman. Take the bait. I’m waiting. Three, two...

“Naoya is not that kind of person,” Mari erupted, likely faster and with more fury than she intended.

Well, that was easy. Toji appeared unruffled from the outside, yet he grinned inwardly.

While he paid no mind to how the woman shook her hands from anger and flung a weak fist into his strong chest, he did—however—find more amusement when she added, “Spreading false rumors about your own relative doesn’t make you the bigger person.”

Unfortunately for her, she tended to act and speak before she thought, not realizing that rushing to Naoya Zenin’s side made her suspicious.

“What? Do my claims about ‘my own relative’ upset you that much?” Toji challenged, quoting her words. He rolled his shoulders back after pushing the woman’s hands from his pectorals. “He’s my baby cousin, so naturally, I have seen his good and bad sides. Just throwing that out there. Unless,” his voice then dropped into a deep bass, “for some reason, you know something I don’t...?”

The inflection in his tone was purposely inquisitive, and he raised an innocent brow with his questions. He could see the emotions that threatened to spill past her walls, from how she furrowed her brows in contemplation to how she pursed her lips in wrath.

But Mari bit her tongue at the very last moment. “No,” she quipped and folded her arms defiantly. “Naoya is not my business.”

Sounded rehearsed, but oh well. The paparazzi photos from their recent Mexico getaway might prove otherwise, though.

“If you say so,” Toji shrugged.

He was satisfied enough with Mari’s reactions to his cousin’s name, and he liked thinking about how two heartless people had found passion in each other. Just as Toji retreated to his seat, a knock rapped at the door and opened to Geto at the entrance.

“Time is up, boss.”

Even as the appointment ended and was followed by other clients that day, Toji’s mind buzzed into the evening.

Call him obsessed, but—for himself, for his son, for his stepdaughter, for his colleagues, and for you—he sought revenge. As Toji mulled over his strategy in his home library that night, he could feel himself about to detonate like a time bomb when the apartment buzzer rang unexpectedly.

“Megumi!” Toji’s low timbers boomed, hoping that his son would hear him from his room upstairs. He chased toward the entryway in hurried steps, calling the teenager’s name again because only the boy’s high school friends would be visiting at this hour. Toji swung the door open. “Megumi! Yuuji and Nobara are downst—”

His words vanished when, in the place of two bubbly teenagers, there stood you.

You raised your gaze from the ground, the overhead lighting leaving a warm glow on your features as you met Toji with reddened and lachrymose eyes.

“Can...we talk?”

last chapter || next chapter

end notes: 1) For me, this was another challenging chapter to write, as I balanced between introducing the many layers behind our main therapist and inundating you—my lovely readers—with too much information without adequate context. 2) Originally, I had named Mari something else. I changed it because her name eventually reminded me of a different anime character and I didn’t want the association. Haha.

taglist: @dissociatingdiva @httpsplanetmarsdotcom @nemoyr @huangfairy @shadowarchon @203steph @agentdedf1sh @cloudybabes @hinativity @lynn-writes-things @illicitwriter @7oji @kikuchimi @piqer @nobody289x @chaoticjojofan @musicisme333 @vvestwoodrose @kumocchin @s-guru @mwahilovemylife @hey-gurls69 @cloudsinthecosmos @moon-mumu-moon @kazscara @obitohno @skilerfrostfairy @funicidals @nico707 @proteovaldez @tsukiyohanayome @marimoares @qirbys @moodpi @tokyometronetwork @downtown-roponggi @the-cosmos-network

420 notes · View notes