#Massage therapist on demand

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Enable your users to utilize an on-demand massage app to unwind after a long, difficult day and to recharge in a soothing setting.

[izvmimi]

A typical Thursday night has you and Izuku both home early and on this night in particular, you find yourself straddling him in bed, his body prone and back exposed to you so you can knead his shoulder and back muscles in a makeshift massage.

You let gentle pulses of electricity smooth and relax each muscle, carefully tracing along each roughened and scarred patch of skin for new scars, and gently rotate his joints. You’re not as good as the physical therapist who works at your new hospital, but you’re good enough, and as you feel your husband’s body ease up whatever has him tense, you feel a satisfaction deep in your chest. Slowing down your movements, you let your body lay against him, chest to back.

“Do you feel better?” you ask.

His face is still muffled into the pillow as he murmurs “yes.” You wonder if he’s started to fall asleep, but he reaches his arms overhead and backwards to reach for your head, then patting it gently once he’s found it. You laugh at the way he fumbles to look for it at first and roll off his body so that you’re next to him, and he turns onto his side, pulling you in closer, while beaming.

“Not to say that that new healer isn’t great, but it just doesn’t feel the same when it’s not you.”

You pout a little.

“Oh, what’s she doing wrong?” you ask, quick to offer constructive feedback. He frowns for a second, wondering if he misspoke, then instead presses a kiss to your forehead.

“I don’t think it’s anything wrong per se, it’s just-” he trails off for a moment then pauses, thinking about the best way to phrase the next sentence, then continues - “she’s not you.”

He tries to keep his voice light and not demanding to make sure that you don’t feel any guilt, but it’s hard not to. The few months where you worked in the same agency as Izuku must have made him so happy, and you easily recall the practical smile on his face when you arrived as part of the salvage and resuscitation crew or whenever he walked into the infirmary and you were free. 

But the truth of the matter is that hero work wasn’t your calling in that manner and would never be, and he understands that. You've just started at your new place a few months ago, and the adjustment is hard, but you've seemed overall happy even if you're no longer together as often.

He must sense the twinge of discomfort because he cups your face, kissing you first on the lips before pulling back and giving you a reassuring nod.

“I know it’s an unfair standard to meet though,” he says. “How can anyone compare to my perfect wife?”

The way he lays it on thick makes you chuckle.

“I need you to adjust your standards a bit, you’re just far too used to me.”

He makes a show of rolling his eyes, but wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you so that you’re on top of him. 

“I think you should allow me to praise you,” he says.

“Not to someone else’s detriment,” you protest, pressing your chin to his chest as you look at him. 

He frowns. “I didn’t say ‘the healer at my job sucks’, all I said is it doesn’t feel the same. Maybe, just maybe, I just like the extra love I feel when you touch me.”

You grin, now filled with mischief. “Well, maybe I could offer her some pointers in that respect too...”

His nose crinkles. “Stop that right now.” He holds you tighter, and you let your legs kick as he rocks the both of you back and forth playfully.

“Regardless, you always have me to come back to and I’ll always be willing to kiss your booboo so don’t be too sad,” you add.

He laughs, petting your head. “I’m just being a baby, aren’t I?”

“A little, but you’re my baby,” you remind him, as you cuddle, but you make note of the additional indirect message that he always loves and misses you too.

[leighsartworks216]

You're Not A Burden

Zayne x gn!therapist friend!Reader

Based on my own experience as the therapist friend and my struggles with being genuine about my emotions with people close to me ✌️

Warnings: hurt/comfort, established relationship, childhood friends, crying, nightmares

Word Count: 1,517

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Zayne has seen this same pattern ever since you were little; the weight of being the person everyone dumps their problems onto, rants to, leans on no matter how small you may be. It's happened for so long now, he can't remember a time you weren't the one stepping up to bear the brunt of someone else's troubles.

He remembers so vividly one day during recess. Your friend was crying because one of the teachers was being mean and unfair. You held them close, let them cry into your shoulder and blubber about their troubles. And then you went into class with that same teacher, experienced that same cruelty, and held your tongue. It was never about being stronger than anyone else, or that admitting anything was wrong was a weakness; only that admitting anything was wrong would place your troubles onto somebody else.

One time, when his parents were away, he slept over at your house in a pillow fort in the living room. He woke up before you, and you had dry tears on your cheeks.

You take the burdens as easy as you take in a breath of air. Even now, in the middle of your quiet night in, your friend called to rant about their job, their relationships - anything they needed to get off their shoulders. You smiled apologetically at Zayne, kissed his cheek, and disappeared into the bedroom to finish the call without disturbing him further.

He understands, better than most, how difficult it is to watch someone suffer, physically or emotionally. How many times had he gone out of his way to ease the burden of his patients outside of medical care? Trying to get a plushie from the arcade for a girl who was too sick to get it herself. Playing chess with a lonely old man, even when it cut into his lunch breaks. But even he has limits to the burdens he carries.

He listens attentively for your voice through the closed door from his seat on the couch. Quiet hums to show you're listening. Muffled words of advice and support. The call goes on for some time, an hour or more, but not once does he hear you talk about your own struggles. Yet, he knows work has been more demanding lately, you haven't been sleeping or eating well, and you were really looking forward to an uninterrupted night in with him - information gathered through observation, more than not.

Not a single word of complaint.

He can't focus on his book, so he sets it aside in exchange for his laptop. The soft clack of keys fills the silence. It nearly drowns out your voice entirely; the typing pauses every now and then to listen when you speak. His work isn't as efficient, so focused on listening for you, but he manages to get through a few emails and a report or two.

When the door opens, he perks up like a dog whose owner just came home. His fingers are still on the keyboard as he watches you come out from the hallway, smiling apologetically once more as you tuck your phone away with a final glance.

"Sorry about that," you murmur as you sit back in your spot on the couch. He closes his laptop and sets it aside. "Lisa's been having a lot of guy troubles lately and just got back from a bad date."

He hums his acknowledgement and turns his body to face you. Cool hands grab yours, holding them in his lap as his thumbs massage into your palms and work out the tension in your fingers. "You didn't say much."

You laugh lightly, as though it's completely normal. As though it should be completely normal. "I didn't want to bother her with my own problems - she has enough of her own to deal with."

"What problems would those be?" he questions. You tense up, like you want to pull away. You don't, but you stare at the ministrations of his hands with a shake of your head.

"It's nothing."

"But if they're problems," he tilts his head, trying to catch your gaze, "shouldn't I know about them?"

You glance at him with a grin that doesn't quite meet your eyes, and a slight downturn in your brow. "You're not on duty right now, Dr. Zayne."

He lifts one of your hands to kiss your palm. Your fingers brush his cheek. He leans into them without thought. "I didn't think I had to be to listen to my partner's issues," he shoots back, shooting down your deflection. His voice grows softer. "It's unhealthy to keep negative emotions bottled up. I am always here to listen should you need to let them out."

Something stirs in your eyes. Discomfort, at being called out and exposed. Worry, and fear. You look away again. "I don't want to bother you with that stuff."

"Who said you would be bothering me? I want to hear about the issues you have, however minor they may be." He releases one of your hands to cup your cheek. He directs your face back to him, leans forward to rest his forehead against yours, stealing your ability to look away. Your eyes remain lowered, staring at his nose. "You always carry the burdens of others. Allow me to carry your burdens, before you collapse under the weight."

You're silent. He shifts his fingers slightly, resting his middle and ring finger over your pulse point just under your jaw. Your heart is beating wildly. It stutters, jumps, skips. You inhale softly.

"You..." You shake your head slightly, nose brushing his. Your free hand fiddles with your pant leg. "You don't tell me about the issues you have, either."

He smiles slightly, wryly, as though you've just started trying to deal with a shrewd businessman who can't resist haggling.

"I had a nightmare last night," he admits softly. That draws your eyes up to his, finally. "When I woke up, it felt like I was still in the dream."

"What was it about?"

He gives you a pointed look. You frown. Your hand clenches around your pant leg, like admitting anything about yourself is agonizingly painful.

"I... I haven't been eating lunch during my breaks."

It's barely admitting anything, but he hums his approval nonetheless. "I was in the hospital, but the corridors were dark. I heard your voice echoing down the halls..." Your heart skips a beat in time with your concerned look. "Why aren't you eating lunch?"

You squeeze your eyes shut, hiding from the inevitable disapproval on his face. "I haven't been sleeping well, so I've been sleeping in my car during my breaks... I... passed out once, at my desk, because I was so tired... I don't want to concern my coworkers like that again." You wait a few seconds before cracking your eyes open. Sure enough, it's his turn to frown with worry. He knew you were tired lately, but he hadn't heard anything about you passing out at work. He can only be grateful you weren't out on the field at that time. "What happens next?"

"... I can't find you." His frown deepens, eyes flickering down your face, taking you in. "No matter where I look, you're not there. And when I wake up, it takes a moment for my mind to catch up and realize you're right there beside me."

Neither of you speak. Your pulse is calm now. The dark bags under your eyes concerns him more than ever now. The daze in his eyes when you woke up this morning to find him looking over your face flickers back into memory.

Eventually, he breaks the silence. "We'll take our lunch breaks together," he tells you, leaving no room for argument. "The next time you feel faint at work, or too tired to keep going, please tell me."

You nod slowly, silently sealing a promise with him. "The next time you have a nightmare like that, you have to tell me, too."

He nods in return. "I will."

You blink, pausing, waiting for something that doesn't ever come. Waiting for him to decide your burdens are too heavy to bear, or become disillusioned with you now that you're no longer this infallible beacon of strength and dependency. But it never comes. Instead, Zayne strokes your cheek with all the tender patience in the world, rubs his nose purposefully against yours in semblance of a kiss, sits quietly with you with no expectations.

Large drops of water begin to form in your waterline. You swallow, fighting the starting tremors in your lungs. He wastes no time in wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into him, helping you sit in his lap where you hug him around his neck and hide your face in his shoulder.

He kisses the side of your head as your body cries with a practiced silence, rubbing his hand in soothing motions against your back. "You're not a burden for having problems, or for sharing them with others," he whispers. "You don't have to carry everything alone anymore."

---

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[freyito]

⎯ ᴋᴇɴꜱʜɪ ᴛᴀᴋᴀʜᴀꜱʜɪ & ᴊᴏʜɴɴʏ ᴄᴀɢᴇ + ᴀ ꜱᴛʀᴇꜱꜱᴇᴅ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

i don't really know what im doing. this is self indulgent. i've been have a really rough time and theres a lot of stress and pressure put on me and i think i may crack? it's not cause of tumblr, i find writing here calming. but hey, i'm moving, im still working on three certs, im worried about college, im writing a book, and im playing therapist to friends.

cw: gn reader, just fluff, proofread

Kenshi Takahashi

Kenshi can feel your stress from a mile away. He doesn't need sight, he doesn't need sento, he doesn't even need to touch you to know. He can see you so clearly in his head, hair messy, eyebrows near constantly furrowed, and just how tense your body really is.

So, when you dodge out of his touch and end up hiding in your room, he doesn't take it to heart. However, he understands. And he will do everything in his power to get you to destress.

He opens the door ever so softly, yet makes sure his presence is known. He reaches out to you, hunched over at your desk, hands hiding your face, your fingers digging into your hair. His hand meets your shoulder, squeezing it gently.

He leans in closer to your ear, and whispers for you to come to bed with him. When you refuse his request, he's a bit more firm. He doesn't demand that you join him, no, but you can hear the traces of longing and concern in his voices.

Once he's convinced you, he leads you to the bed. He's memorized the layout of the house, don't worry. He won't ask questions, he won't press for any answers. All he knows is you're stressed and overworking yourself, and that's cause enough to pull you away.

Kenshi prefers to give you a massage, not only does it work out the knots of your body, but he believes it is a great way to destress by being close to the one you love. He works his way down your body, kissing the nape of your neck when he reaches your waist.

Once he's sure he's gotten all the stress out of your body, he finally cuddles up to you. He wraps his hands around your waist and pulls you close, burying his head in the crook of your neck. He refuses to let you leave his arms. You need sleep, and he's going to make sure you get it. And don't even think you can slink away from him in the morning, he's going to pull you right back into his arms.

Johnny Cage

Johnny can't let you get away with sulking, he needs to see you relax, stress free. Seeing you messed up (and not cause of him), it makes his heart hurt. Of course, he understands. He's got a bad habit of overworking himself, too.

But, he isn't going to let you hide from him. Don't think for a second that you can get away with that. Before you can even run into your (shared) room to hide away, he whisks you off your feet.

Don't even think you can convince him to let you down, either. Nope. You're stuck with him now. And what is he going to do? Funny you asked, he's already ordered your favorite food, and he's got your favorite movie queued up. And one of his own.

If he could tie you to the bed to make sure you couldn't escape, he would. Fortunately, his mind is a lot sounder. And he knows your going to stay and wait with him for the food to arrive. Meanwhile, he's trying to get you to talk. About anything. He just wants to hear your voice, really.

Johnny doesn't leave your side. Once. He's dragging you along to go get the food with him, and he's holding your hand during dinner. So what, he's having a hard time cutting his food? He doesn't care. He needs to know you're still with him, not only is it grounding for him, it's meant for you, too.

After dinner, he's already on drawing a bath for you. (and for him, c'mon, he has to!) He's thrown in whatever he can think of- Epsom salt, bath foam- and lights some candles. He tries to make it look all romantic, with rose petals scattered in the bath and around it, too. You can feel just how proud of himself he is when he carries you to the bath. Which, is also a non-negotiable.

Johnny doesn't care if you've reached the height of relaxation after the bath, either. Nope, he's made sure your schedule is cleared for the next week, at least. He condemns you to stay with him, he'll take you wherever you'd like. All the fancy restaurants you could eat at. Or, if you'd rather just stay home alllll week, he doesn't mind that either. As long as he gets to stay with you.

© freyito, 2023 | masterlist | queue | kofi DO NOT REPOST AS YOUR OWN OR USE FOR AI/AI CHATBOTS.

[spicycinnabun]

part 4 of yogi verse ❀ rated: t for buck's thirsty thoughts ❀ pair: buck/tommy ❀ tags: au, yoga!instructor tommy

Buck was distracted. 

Not so distracted that he couldn’t focus on his job, but between calls, he was enough of a space case that Eddie had to snap his fingers in front of Buck’s face when he zoned out for the fifth time during dinner, missing a question Hen had asked him.

And the source of that distraction?

Yoga class.

Buck could say it was because of his newfound passion for health and wellness, but that wouldn’t be the whole truth. 

It had been a few days, and his leg was back to its usual eighty-five percent functionality. He was still embarrassed by his behavior. His attention-seeking problem was once again so bad that he’d made a complete ass of himself. Tommy had been way too kind to him, among other confusing things, and…

Well, Buck couldn’t stop thinking about that, either. Couldn’t stop thinking about him.

Naturally, he did some investigating to alleviate his curiosity—some light digging, not a deep dive. He wasn’t going to be a creep and look up Tommy’s socials, but the yoga studio had an Instagram. There were pictures, instructional reels, advertisements and coupon codes. 

Buck consumed them all like a man possessed. He only stopped when he accidentally liked one of the reels of Tommy demonstrating an advanced routine with another instructor. They were doing something called Acro Yoga.

Buck watched it too many times because it was just so damn impressive, especially for a guy Tommy’s size to be able to contort his body like that. Also, the strength it must have taken to be able to hold his partner up in that position and flip her around so effortlessly. Holy shit. Buck was almost as big as Tommy. It wasn’t realistic or probably possible, but Buck’s stomach was jumping, swooping as he pictured himself in her place, Tommy holding him up and—

Yeah! Okay. 

He sort of wanted to die of mortification because would Tommy know he had liked that post? Did Tommy have access to the studio’s account? 

God, he probably did. He most definitely did.

Buck considered frantically deleting his Insta, but not only would that look suspicious as hell to everyone in his life, he didn’t want to lose all his content. He quickly liked a bunch of the posts that didn’t have Tommy in them to try and cover his tracks before he swiped out of the app and went to a safer place: the studio’s website. 

He combed through that, too. Read the small blurbs about all the instructors. The blurbs themselves were disappointingly generic, offering nothing more than canned inspirational quotes and the amount of experience they had in their field. Still, they did have two random facts and a picture. 

Tommy liked romantic comedies (ha, cute) and was also a licensed massage therapist. He had several different classes on different days of the week. He taught hot yoga. 

Buck’s eyes glazed over slightly as he thought about a very sweaty, muscular body (shirtless? with those clingy, almost see-through yoga pants?), twisting and flexing and stretching—

“Oookay,” Buck said. He shook his head to snap himself out of it.

He needed to get laid. It had been a long time. Super long. He was having a bit of a dry spell. 

But the thing that really snagged his interest… 

Buck gulped as he stopped scrolling. Private lessons. One-on-one. Nobody in the room but him and the instructor. There were even options to do the classes at home or over Zoom.

Buck’s heart pounded as his thoughts spiraled. With a deep, shaky inhale, he impulsively tapped Book now! 

The next five minutes he spent making his selections.

The implications of what he’d done started to sink in as soon as he put his phone down. A second later, it pinged with a confirmation email.

He was literally paying for more attention. He’d asked Tommy not to make any special exceptions for him, and now he was ordering them. Downright demanding them.

Why did he feel so giddy? 

༻❁༺

When Buck woke up sweaty and hard with the memories of an explicit dream featuring none other than instructor Kinard, he had an inkling of an answer to that question. 

But… 

It wasn't the first time Buck had dreamt about a man before. Dreams were weird that way. Unpredictable. Sometimes meaningless. Random. 

Buck got up and brewed a hot coffee, cooked up some breakfast sausages that he ate a little too aggressively, had a (cool) shower, and by the time he got in his Jeep, Tommy wasn't even on his mind anymore.

…Yeah, right.

[bloodywankers]

tw; yandere, domestic abuse, child abuse, drugging, alcoholism, slight nsfw, bodily harm, unedited

Hate is a strong word but even it is not nearly strong enough to describe what Alexei felt for his father, the one who snatched his mothers budding career as a ballerina right from her. Not when–if not for him, perhaps he would’ve grown up loved and cared for by a mother instead of a changing rotation of nannies and tutors. The few memories he has of her usually include crying and screaming, cursing the boy for looking like ‘that monster’--what she called his father. Now that he’s an adult, he can’t help but agree, but most normal children at that age don’t tend to understand why mommy always screams and sobs when she and daddy are alone at night.

He hates to admit it but when desperate he’d even turn to his father for a morsel of affection, not unlike his brother but both were met with his cold gaze and treatment worse than that which you expect from strangers. Because, as his brother who was equally as young best described it, “Daddy only has eyes for mommy”. Every chance he got, their father got gifts for their mother. Jewellery, dresses and any other thing money could buy, well, anything except the freedom to leave. Alexei and his brother always had gifts on birthdays and holidays too, but it didn’t take a genius to figure out they were from the nannies who took pity on them rather than their parents.

But it wasn’t always bad! Sometimes daddy, sitting in the living room, would massage mommies feet— which always seemed to hurt and need treatment— and mommy would be too tired to cry or curse at the boys. On those occasions they would be allowed to play in the living room, but only if they didn’t make any noise. On those occasions Alexei felt like a real family, just like the one in the movies, if you ignored the half-drunken cup on the table near mommy with a substance too cloudy to be called water.

No one turns out normal after a childhood like his, that’s what his last therapist said at least. So no one should blame him for finding refuge in alcohol, his brother inheriting the family business allows Alexei to run nightclubs that bleed money quite easily. A privilege he’s willing to admit most don’t have, but most don’t have a family life like his either. Nowadays he doesn’t know what his parents are up to and usually, he’s too drunk to care.

Of course, it’s not all bad, he has a nice house where he can do as he pleases. It’s nothing like a typical rich bachelors house but instead one he saw in a movie once, he’d always been jealous of the family the character had so he purchased a house that looked eerily similar to the movie set. Hoping that the association would make it feel less empty and cold, he even got the same dog the main character had. A big golden retriever that he would take on walks in the mornings after a hangover, he even feeds it on time despite his drunken habits!

But a dog and suburban house don’t fill the void left by crippling loneliness, not when humans are inherently social creatures and Alexei actively denies himself this. The comfort of alcohol is limited, you can only consume so much before it stops working so occasionally he seeks the warmth of a person, usually it’s short-lived, most people have normal lives, and normal jobs they have to get to. So he usually goes straight back to sleep after he does whatever mundane routine he’s set to follow, waking up only after the last rays of the sun are gone, but occasionally he makes exceptions. This time, due to his brother demanding he attend an event with him, some sort of charity event that involved a ballet performance.

Alexei doesn’t remember much after he saw you dance in your little dress and stage makeup. For a moment in time it felt as if you two were the only people in the world, an unfamiliar warmth in his chest as you stared right into his eyes. He’s never been one to believe in these sorts of things but it almost felt like fate as your gazes met and his heart felt truly alive for the first time in so long, a sensation he was sure was not a side effect of alcohol poisoning this time.

He could faintly remember inviting you to one of his nightclubs and you begrudgingly accepting, looking back on it, being the brother of a major backer for the event might have been part of the reason you accepted but Alexei liked to think it was because you were as charmed by him as he was you. It all felt like a blur until he found himself in a hotel room with you, sitting on a sofa with you on top of him. By that point he had too much alcohol in his system to do much more than to beg you to keep going. Letting you guide him until he was on the floor and you in his place on the sofa.

“I’ve been a good boy, haven't I? You love me, right?” He’d mutter between, his words slurred and barely audible as he took one of your feet in his hand and kissed it.

“Tell me you love me.” This time he spoke in a clarity that made all his past drunkenness seem like an act, his eyes wide opened and focused solely on yours.

“Hmm?” His grip on your foot seemed to tighten as he eagerly waited for your reply, eyes staring right into yours and a blank expression waiting to contort based on your reply. He looked almost pathetic, especially when compared to how high and mighty he seemed to act when sober.

You were quick to respond with confessions of love, lest he cut off the circulation to your foot entirely and, to your pleasure, the reply seemed satisfactory enough as he continued, shifting his focus to your breasts instead. Continuing on until the sun started to peek through the window and neither of you had any more energy to continue, although you were sure he kept going long after you passed out. However, thankfully, you were able to get up before him, carefully dressing yourself so as to not wake him.

It’s almost routine for Alexei to wake up alone after spending the night with someone but he admits to feeling a little disappointed this time, hoping he could see you at least for a last time but he tries not to linger on it for too long, it’s always been like this and this time should be no different. Even if the walk home feels especially lonely when he sees parents walk their children to school and young couples bask in each other's company. He doesn't like to admit it but that doesn't make it any less unbearable.

He’s never lingered so much after spending the night with someone, never bothered to figure out their name or the place they work at, nor as he ever bothered to add any events they could likely attend to his calendar. It’s out of character, he acknowledges as he scrolls through your social media, careful not to like any of your posts to tip you off, at least not until the time is right. It gets to the point where even people around him start to notice.

“You’ve been going around asking for information on her, how would I not know when you called the event organisers?” His brother, Viktor, said. At this point, any normal person might’ve reprimanded Alexei for acting like a lowly stalker. But it’s so difficult to tell him off when this is the longest anyone has seen him sober. Especially when he wakes up at normal hours every day and indulges in hobbies he knows you like in the hope of impressing you. This is still despite not having met you since that day. It’s hard to tell him to go back to isolating himself and indulging in little more than slowly destroying his health. And so what if knowing how his brother is, it comes at the cost of a stranger? It was a worthy sacrifice, in Viktor's eyes, if his brother could feel a sense of normalcy for the first time in his life.

According to his original plan, Alexei was going to ‘coincidentally’ meet you again and formally introduce himself. He was going to court you and go on dates with you like normal couples do, he would propose after a year with him. He didn’t mean to have you wake up with a chain to your ankle but he couldn’t help himself when he saw your attention shifting from him to someone else. He got anxious thinking all his plans had been for nothing, as he pictured you with another man while he could do nothing but offer you bitter congratulations.

As you nervously sat in front of him in the dim office, Alexei couldn’t help but smile, taking in the sight before he continued. “Despite your skill, you still haven’t gotten a main role yet, have you, [name]?”

You knew how this went, so many of the company's favourite ballet dancers had used similar means after all, but it didn’t make you feel any less dirty as you replied. “No, sir.” He looked different from that day, his hair better kept and face not as sunken in as that night. Had you met under different circumstances you would have no qualms against admitting he was a truly handsome man.

“Well, I don’t think that fair, especially for someone as talented as yourself, so, I’d like to offer to sponsor you. Of course, that is, only if you would agree to it.” You almost laughed at this. Alexei was just as aware of this as you, if you dared to deny his offer it would mark the end of your career. You would never dance again. “Sponsor…?” You couldn’t help but feel a shiver run through you as you looked up to find him smiling, it was an unfamiliar expression. Even that accursed night his expressions had been nothing short of pitiful but now he felt like a completely different person.

You couldn’t find it within you to say yes immediately, not when you still remembered the events that took place after you left that hotel room, the way your skin burned as you scrubbed it to try to get rid of that dirty sensation you felt, the way everyone stared at you when you returned to practice at the studio. They had seen you leave with him last night and could clearly see the marks peeking through. It felt unbearable to even think about it.

While you were lost in thought, you failed to notice Alexei now standing behind you as his hands placed on your shoulders.

“You’re a smart girl, you know what I mean, don’t you?”

Everything after that felt like a repeat of that night, the only difference being that this time he was sober throughout, which felt arguably worse. At least he was somewhat consolable that time, a childish pitifulness present in his expression even as he clawed through your skin and took from you with not a shred of remorse. At least then you could console yourself thinking it was a drunken mistake but this time his eyes were clear as day as they bore right into your own. His words were perfectly coherent as he proclaimed his undying love and his movements deliberate and controlled as he twisted your ankle in ways it shouldn't.

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[3cremepie3]

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Sypnopsis - Professor Crowley helping you his dear student relive some stress.

Warnings - Smut 18+, Teacher x student, squirting, dirty talk, humiliation, gagging, flattery!

A/n - I was been supposed to get this done. Sorry for the delay I got really busy with school. But it’s out now thanks for the support! And also before anyone starts Y/n is grown. REBLOG PLS!!

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“It’s been months since I’ve seen my family! My friends hell even my enemies.” What have you been doing this whole time? Answer me, Crowley,” you demanded!

“Y/n I have a school to run on top of trying to solve your impossible dilemma. For all I know you might’ve fallen from the sky like the tums.” Well, you’re not doing a good job at your school if your students keep overblotting,” you snapped.

You were tired of Crowley's BS that’s why you stormed into his office. You were currently standing over his desk looking his stupid mask in the eyes. He sat on his chair which resembled a bird cage.

“I have to be the one to stop them from dying because conveniently somehow you’re never around. You told me I could be a student here, not a therapist.” As pathetic as it may be you began to cry the built stress of holding back your feelings let loose.

“I need help myself I don’t have time to help others. Please Crowley help me find a way home,” you sobbed. Crowley sighed before clutching you closer to him.

“I'm a generous headmaster I hate to see my students under such stress. Especially beautiful ones that I’m trying to help every day. Crowley pulled your hands away from your face. Here come closer Y/n.” You followed his instructions as he pulled slightly on your arm.

He opened up one of his desk drawers to a file with your name on it. “This is everything I’ve collected on you so far even after using my global resources,” he spoke.”You read through the files while bent over his desk for a better view.

You could see how every lead he got was scratched off. It was hard to read since he had chicken scribble but you got through most of it. Crowley had been trying. But this file just proved one more thing you were never getting home. In a moment of shock you fell back and the tears began to stream again. You were in Crowleys now lap to upset to move. “Sorry Mr. Crowley,” you sniffed. “I can see now that you have been trying.”

“Yes this whole time this situation has been stressful for me as well since you’re quite troublesome on campus,” he joked. You could tell he was trying to lighten the mood. “I guess you have it hard too.” You shifted so that you could look at him not even remembering that you were on his lap.

“Um yeah I guess you could say that,” he coughed. For a second you wondered what he meant by that and then you felt it. His large hard on pressing onto your back. “Oh I should get up,” you yelped.

“No, I don’t mind you staying here. You look too pretty when you cry. And it seems like we could both use a little bit of a stress relief. Look at how tense you are.” He started to massage your shoulders then his hands rolled down to your neck.

You let out a sharp exhale startled by his cold hand on such a sensitive area. He began to grind himself into your now-exposed panties since your skirt was lifted. “I’ll continue only if you want me to Y/n. It’s an honor to make love to someone like me,” he chuckled.

“I’ve never done anything like this Mr. Crowley.” It’s okay I’ll walk you through it there’s no way you won’t enjoy your time with me.” Okay I’ll try then.”

“But are we gonna do it here? What if someone walks in?” They can’t do much to the I'm the headmaster after all.” His hands gripped your ass giving it a firm squeeze. “I don’t know Mister this seems like a bad idea.

“Hey,” you protested. “Just calm down.” His fingers ghosted over your pussy causing you to squirm. “Squirming already I guess you’re nervous. I would be too if I were having sex with me.”

“Shhh just sit and relax.” He put your legs on each side of the chair legs and held your back for support. “Let’s get these useless things off.” He cut off your panties in an instant with his claws.

“Your egos too high,” you spoke. “And your mouth is too smart it would be best if I stuff you quiet.” What huh.” You asked not fully registering what he meant. The leftover fabric of your panties was stuffed in your mouth.

“That’s better.” One of his hands gripped your thigh tighter as the other worked off his golden claws and gloves. You waited watching his every move. His fingers were abnormally long and slender. He also had claw-like fingernails on all but two of his middle fingers. You didn’t think Mr. Crowley would get any pussy he seemed too busy but you were wrong. He knew exactly what to do massaging your clit while teasing your fluttering hole.

Your moans could be heard through your gag. “Feels good huh?” I can tell it does look at how you’ll suck me up.” He inserted his finger then and your heat greedily accepted him.

“See I’m always right!” You ready to take the next one? He questioned inbetween tasting your juices on his finger. You shook your head quickly slightly ashamed at your eagerness. The stretch felt heavenly to the point where you sunk your hips down further on his fingers.

“So needy huh? You needed this Y/n you need me huh?” You shook your head again grinding yourself up and down on his fingers. By now your pussy was so wet it started to make lewd sounds.

They got louder and louder the longer you fucked yourself on his fingers. Crowley sat back admiring the view. Your pussy was on full display since your uniform skirt was lifted. You felt his eyes burning onto you. His gaze wasn’t a judgemental but a loving one.

He realized how much of a slut he just found. He would just have to train you to realize it. But you were quickly breaking out of your box. Your moans were turning into whines. You were close now bouncing on his curved fingers like a fuck rabbit.

Your hands dug into his shoulders landing on his soft feather-filled Shaw. You buried your face in his neck too ashamed to face him. “Most women would get tired by now and want me to fuck them. I guess you young ones have more stamina.”

He was such a talkative asshole you wish that he would shut up. But you couldn’t stop now when you were so close to cumming. You were so close to letting go your juices were dripping down his fingers wetting his dress shirt.

“Such a loud sloppy mess for me. You’re doing so good Let me see how you feel with this.” He stopped all motion leaving you breathless. For a second you were hopeless that he was gonna help you finish. But his hands boosted your thighs up now your pussy was nearing his mouth.

You gasped into your gag you were high up now with no support other than his hair to hold. “Shh calm down I never dropped anyone doing this. Just give in everything will be okay.” He spoke sending vibrations and chills up your already shakey spine. He licked up around your thighs purposefully missing your needy parts. You whined pulling him forward. “Lick here.” You tried to illustrate through your gag.

This was the longest you’ve been edged your entire impatient life. You used your tongue to push your gag out you could’ve taken being bound any longer. “Headmage please I need your mouth. I need to cum or I think I’ll go crazy. Now stop being a fucking tease,” you demanded. “That’s not nice language young lady.” Okay, I’m sorry I’m sorry,” you pleaded.

“Fine, I’ll be kind enough to spare you.” Ahh! You screamed being unexpectedly dropped. You were back on Crowley's lap then you were back on the desk. You spread your legs again and finally after what felt like forever his mouth met your clit.

You wrapped your legs around his head tightly. “You’re not escaping this bit.” No problem I can stay like this for hours,” he murmured. He began to lap up your juices that had pilled up from all his teasing.

“Mmm, that feels good.” Doesn't it baby I heard my head game is superior.” Stop hearing and start focusing,” you instructed. “You’re insufferable,” you sighed. “And you're sweet so sweet,” he explained through slurps.

“Mmm Crowley,” you groaned. “You’re so naughty y/n I feel you twitching on my tongue. Are you about to cum? You must be look at how you’re shaking.” You hadn’t even noticed that how your body was reacting.

“Yes I’m about to cum!” Hmm,” he pondered. “Should I really let you cum? I don’t think this naughty pussy deserves it.” He teased while slapping your clit. You tightened in surprise and sprung up. “Crowley!”

“Fuck please just let me I’ve been waiting so long.” He gave you a reassuring glance latching his mouth to your clit. This time you knew he would allow you to cum. He didn’t let up for a second not even to breathe.

His mask partially lifted but you were too out of it to look at his secret identity. Your vision began to blur so you just shut your eyes as tight as they could go. Crowley didn’t like how your body was pulling away so his arm held your stomach down.

There was no escaping his tounges harsh attack even after you began to cum. He continued prolonging your orgasm. Your toes curled and even the iron grip he had on your waist wasn’t enough to stop you from shaking.

“Fuck I’m gonna! Ahh, I’m gonna squirt if you keep that up,” you warned. “I don’t mind the mess my dear but I do mind your volume.” He explained before pulling you into a smothering kiss.

You let go completely over his lanky fingers. “Headmage!! You screamed into his mouth. His tongue swayed across yours muffling your sound. “Ahh.” You sighed relieved that your edging was over. You were trying to relax your breathing for a moment before you hit Crowley. “What the fuck why are you such a tease?!”

“I have to be and anyways you should be grateful look at how hard you came.” You left my desk all sticky.” Well it’s gonna stay that way,” you chuckled. You slid off his desk pulling your panties back up.

“C’mon don’t leave my little stress reliever. Don’t you want to help your dear Headmage out a little more after I was so kind to you?” He grabbed his buldge and for a second you wanted to go back down on your knees.

But the bell ringing distracted your thoughts. “I need to be a good student like I said earlier. So bye Crowley. You left leaving him a hard insatiable mess.

[realrogerhours]

my evil spine demands that i go see either a chiropractor or a massage therapist and i refuse to see either on the basis that chiropractors are evil and i'm scared that if i see a massage therapist there will be an international incident

[takami-takami]

KEIGO FALLING FOR HIS PHYSICAL THERAPIST.

LIKE AFTER HIS FIGHT WITH DABI AND HE LOSES HIS WINGS. He’s required to go therapy to regain the strength in his back and body due to the trauma that his body has experienced.

So at first he’s kinda unwillingly thrown into physical therapy. He’s miserable. People poking and prodding at his back constantly. People demanding that he moves in ways that make him want to curl on the ground and never get back up.

Eventually, due to his stubbornness they invite a private specialist.

You.

You take the first month or so to get to know him, his usual schedule, what hurts and what doesn’t.

Then you move onto soft touches, just gentle hands trying to guide movements that might stretch but won’t hurt too bad.

And he starts to trust you. Starts letting down his guard a little bit here and there, more willing to express when he’s in pain, and he starts getting stronger.

But then you notice that there are spots of his back that aren’t healing as well.

Spots that maybe he can’t quite reach yet to put on antibacterial cream or burn cream.

So you offer, innocently. Unaware of the way his face warms at the thought of your hands wandering across his back so openly. The way his eyes dilate just the slightest bit as he mulls over it for just a second too long.

He doesn’t flirt this time, embarrassed by the sudden thought.

But he lets you, because god he’s just in so much pain and it’s all so itchy and the thought of the cool cream is urging him to agree.

And you two continue this little routine you’ve created for a while. Talking, stretching, rubbing the cream onto his back. But eventually it starts to become more intimate than intended, you find your self softly massaging the parts of his back where the muscles are the most tense, and he freezes, so unbelievably embarrassed and turned on.

Yet you keep going, and he’s become a puddle in your hands, trying so hard to hold back the moans that threaten to spill from his lips, his eyes are blown wide and you can feel where the wings used to be, the muscles and bones tensing and shifting underneath the skin, quickly as though they were shivering.

(OMIGOD THIS IS SO LONG, IM SO SORRY)

My back is sore and I have been thinking about this ever since, sorry it’s so long though!!

-🐝 anon

I hope you are having a good day!!

BEE ANON THIS HAS ME IN SHAMBLES I NEED YOU TO WRITE THIS

Ohhhh it's so soft and intimate. The way he gradually opens up... He should! :(

One of my literal weak points in fics is when Keigo gets accidentally turned on, ESPECIALLY by wing stuff like the way he gets so confused and he tries to swallow the moans so all that comes out is a little clipped "mm" that's cut short by tightly shut lips cuz he's EMBARASSED and AGH. <3<3<3

[jessicalprice]

undiscovered country

(reposted from Twitter)

When I have the emotional bandwidth to look at Christians and ex-Christians flailing at Jews and Jewish stuff rather than just wishing they’d tend to their own process and practice and leave us alone, the thing I want most for them is to learn to encounter cultures and traditions and practices that are different from theirs without immediately trying to force them into an analogy or paradigm with something that’s familiar to them.

Sometimes I wonder if there’s even any actual spirituality in authoritarian Christianity, because the one thing I understand about engagement with the sacred is that it’s a way to cultivate awe and learn to face mystery without rushing to reduce it to something comprehensible.

And that matters in every area of life. It matters for loving people. Every other person you encounter will always in some ways be a mystery, and if you can only love what you fully understand about them, you love a reflection of yourself, not them.

It matters for learning—ESPECIALLY in science. If you rush to force what you’re seeing into a paradigm you’re familiar with, you often end up with either incomplete data or bad interpretations of data.

It matters for engaging with cultures you’re not part of. If you’re not willing to stop demanding that they immediately make sense to you, you end up misapprehending them and, often, disbelieving people about their own worldview and experiences.

I remember the first time a massage therapist worked on my psoas muscle.

I immediately tensed up and literally started involuntarily crawling across the massage table away from her.

She asked me, “I want you to take a moment and think about whether this actually hurts or whether it’s just an intense, strange sensation and you expect pain.”

It’s hard, when it feels like someone’s touching an internal organ or something to relax, back up, and just be receptive and feel rather than trying to categorize and react. But she was right. It didn’t hurt, I didn’t need her to reduce the pressure. It was just new.

It’s really, really okay—I promise, you can take the time and space!—to encounter something in another culture and just absorb without immediately trying to understand. I don’t know that I can explain how to get there beyond, just let go for a minute and be.

Like when you taste something new, you don’t immediately have to categorize, oh, this tastes like chicken! You can just sit there for a moment and let it be new. If you don’t, I don’t think you’ll actually fully taste it.

When I have a sensation experience like that and I can just sit and absorb for a bit, I feel like I can feel parts of my brain that didn’t talk before connecting. If it’s something like a wine tasting where I'm supposed to describe and compare immediately, I don’t sense that.

And I just wish people deconstructing Christianity, who often seem really prone to demanding Christian paradigms for everything, would try that. You can do it with people things as well as sensation things.

I think sometimes that you can’t really perceive other people, both on an individual level and on a cultural/societal one, if you expect to fully understand them. You definitely can't have an I-Thou encounter with them, in the Buber sense, or be face-to-face, in the Levinas sense. Understanding usually grows, but it has to have space to do so.

It’s not easy, of course, and it’s not something any of us can do all the time. There are important reasons our brains look for patterns and analogies and categories.

We can't constantly be in an I-Thou relationship with the Other and we don’t need to. But I dunno, I think it’s important to learn to

oscillate, maybe?

just let go sometimes and perceive absorptively rather than categorizingly?

There’s that infinitesimal moment before you put a concept or understanding into words and you can learn to extend it and not make what you’re encountering into something. Just MEET it, you know? And this is sort of like that. It’s how you actually listen to another.

[lyk-wow]

Massage Therapy

Massage therapy is not just an indulgent experience, but it can radically change one's body and mind. The purpose of this article is to emphasize the powerful effect of massage as a type of treatment on the individual's health. Anyone in anybody’s shoes can benefit from such a therapy whether it is in the case of reduced stress, alleviation of pain, extension of muscles, or maximization of sleep patterns.

Massage therapy has been there as early as man’s existence and it has modified into versatile techniques and styles to suit different purposes. The secret of its success is the expert hands delighted in the knead of the muscles and soft tissues, thereby increasing blood circulation, elevating the levels of endorphins, and enhancing recovery.

With this case in mind, adding this therapy to one’s health care Einstein instinct is bound to yield greater outcomes. Such patients suffering from the chronic conditions such as arthritis are able to find relief through regular appointments with a massage therapist. When done properly, it lowers stress levels, increases the quality of sleep, improves clarity of thought and also assists the body to get rid of toxins.

This will include a close look at massage therapy as practiced and the specific employable suggestions to improve efficacy of the procedure. Let us buckle and cruise in the endeavor of making massage therapy as effective as it is supposed to be.

It is recognized, rightly, that massage therapy relieves not only physical stress but also social pressure and other non visible suppression. Said comfort can be achieved in the deft and soothing able hands of the therapist who can make one lose touch with the usual, unrestrained demand and stress that life brings.

Extreme care enough argues the case of tensed soft tissue. Excitation of soft tissue applies help in the marketing through a massage therapy. The feedback between the finger and the muscle promotes the bio synthesis of Endorphin, which acts as an anti-psychotic agent. Hence, this makes you come along a nice deep comfort enveloping, quietness.

Physical and mental stresses do not need to be present always in the life of an individual. Following an academic, clinical and biological point of view, one could sustain that chronic strain becomes an essential factor for a number of health imbalances such as hypertension and renal disorder and many more.

Massage gives one the rare chance of melting off the daily anxieties of life and concentrating on one’s health. When such a technique is adopted into people’s life patterns, the degree of stress is brought down to a minimum and concord between levels of activity is achieved with the self.

There are different machines available in market. These machines can be used for massage at home. Explore different massage machines here. LYKWOW massaging products. All these massage machines come with warranty.

In order to make the most out of massage therapy in terms of the amount of stress you are able to release, an understanding with the therapist should be developed. It is most important however to indicate where the tension and pain is, how hard one wants the massage, and where the pressure should be placed.

Hydration is also necessary before and after having a massage. Taking water after massage helps to remove toxins which, in a normal circumstance, would be deposited into the body systems and maintains hydration balance of the muscles.

Include massage therapy in your self-care practices, and notice what levels of stress reduction and good wellbeing it can add to your life.

The effectiveness of massage therapy in the management of pain and in the treatment of chronic pain and sports injuries is well documented. They do this by looking for sore muscles and connective tissues or trigger points, and the causative pain is taken away.

One of the primary ways massage therapy aids in pain relief is through the release of endorphins, the active ingredients in the body. Whenever you engage in muscle therapy or trigger point therapy the substance endorphin comes up and this psychologically results in calmness and eases pain.

Chronic pain is one of such conditions which surprise many people, but massage therapy can help cope with it. They are there to ease the tension of target muscles and reduce inflammation thus pain levels decrease gradually. In addition, improper blood circulation to the solution reduces muscle tension and stiffness while massage therapy helps in the nourishment of the tissues.

Massage therapy is one of the most sought out forms of therapy by individuals who have suffered a sports injury. Be it a pulled muscle, torn ligament or joint pain masage therapy is beneficial in more than one way when it comes to rehabilitation. As the specific area is worked upon and deep pressure massage is used, the therapists are able to enhance the tissue healing process, reduce the range of motion loss and relieve the pain which comes with the sports injury.

It is important to emphasize that your massage therapist can even enhance such a massage technique to suit your individual needs and preferences. Your preferred technique, be it deep tissue massage or a more relaxing Swedish massage important to stress your expectations and discuss the pain levels for the perfect combination in the healing process during one session.

In fact, massage therapy can offer such relief whether one suffers from chronic pain or is recovering from a sports injury hence feels that this type of therapy should be included in one's course of healing.

Don't forget to drink water before and after the session to aid in detoxification and flushing out toxins caused by massage.

If you select the right types of massage therapist, and make them a routine, the healing effects of this type of treatment can be felt for a long time and pain alleviated.

[anamelessfool]

Valise (AO3)

From my "Domestics" Ficlet Series

GEN Young Secondo (b. 1961) (1969)

(Illustration by Me...Yes, he is supposed to look like Damien from the Omen)

8 year old Secondo is a touring piano prodigy, and his mother supports him every step of the way. An unexpected visitor arrives at the Ministry HQ.

Tags: domestic fluff, Secondo the child prodigy, mother and son relationship, this is why he is so intense, Enjoy my Google Translate Italian, Maybe I should send this to my Therapist, Sorta Sad Fluff Because That's My Brand

First and foremost dedicated to @fishwithtitz once more for asking me about Secondo after reading my Kid Primo stuff.

Ficlet below the cut!

1969

She was always there. Sister Rebecca. His mother. Secondo stole a glance across the top of the piano to the velvety darkness of stage right. He could tell she was there by the soft gleam of her perfectly round glasses. Secondo gave a nod, then refocused himself on the piano keys before him.

This tour season she had planned for him a program highlighting the greats of Chopin’s work He had grown quite a bit since his debut at six, and so he was able to reach more keys with greater accuracy. The theater was packed, the audience on the edge of their seats astounded at how such a young mind could comprehend the complexities of piano performance. He was on tempo and accurate—but then again any trained monkey could be that with enough practice. They were drawn to his surprising sensitivity on the keys, his understanding of drama and atmosphere that went way beyond his years.

Secondo didn't care whether he played in the common room of the Ministry or a packed orpheum in New York City, in both places his brain worked the same. His fingers moved and the sound fell out, a puzzle to massage his brooding mind. They were the soundtrack of the visions he had in his imagination brought on by all the paperbacks he read in the Ministry limousine as he toured up and down New England.

A leviathan of cosmic horror, its impossibly great head rising from the sea.

Moriarty and Sherlock, entangled as they plunged headfirst down the falls.

A corpse’s heart, beating under the floor in defiance of its murderer.

Rough beasts, their hour come at last, slouching towards Bethlehem.

He finished the piece with a flourish, bowing solemnly. His mother was always the first one to applaud.

When they traveled, which was often, she insisted they stay at the finest rooms in the finest hotels. Her businesslike, steely expression was usually enough to ensure their stay there was one of ease and opulence, and she tipped everyone handsomely besides. “Yes, and the room needs to have a phone. It is essential.”

“There is a time to perform and a time to rest,” she told her son once. “Commit to each season fully.”

Except it seemed like she never truly rested. The Personal Assistant to Mother Imperator rarely does. They would have a meal in the hotel suite, or go to a play or opera performance in each city they visited, but she was always peering into her datebook or calling the Ministry in the theater phonebooth during intermissions. Secondo would hold her drink while she made plans and kept appointments across the world.

Back at the hotel, the calls and note taking would continue, this time on the elegant historical phone of the penthouse, at least until she felt everything was laid out well enough before going to bed.

“No, it's not possible, but you have to make it work.” Click. Her datebook would snap open, and she'd dial the rotary phone again for another check in. Whirrrr, whirrr, whirrr.

“Nihil will be on tour the fifteenth through the second. Yes, the venues are all approved.” Click. Snap. Whirrr, whirr, whirrr.

Then she would pull out an array of languages. A full half hour conversation in Italian. Three requests in Portuguese, a demand in Spanish from another caller across the world. A stilted yet firm discussion in broken German (she struggled with that one, but it was on her list).

Secondo, still warm from his bath, would close his eyes in the other bed. There was the soft murmuring of phone call after phone call. The efficient scratching of a fountain pen. The impatient tapping of her fingernails across the desk. She would turn to check on him and through his eyelashes he saw once more the gleam of her spectacles, the white gold glitter of the smart brooch at her throat. He started to drift off to sleep to the quiet efficient sounds of his mother at work.

“Yes, I'm away now. Our tour is going well. My son and I are having a lovely time. Yes, he is doing so well. Talented through and through.”

***

“And what brooch shall I wear today, boy?” She would ask him each day, after putting up her hair and putting away her ivory combs. Secondo would peer across the open jewelry case, the finery enclosed and separated with black velvet dividers, a stable of jewels. He would pick one and hand it to her. She never refused his selection.

“How is my watch today, boy?” Would be the next thing she would ask about. Secondo would already be prepared with it. It was a thin ladies wristwatch over forty years old and still pristine. It was a big moment for him when he was allowed to take care of it. He would make sure it was wound each day, opening the back to see the small gears whirring smoothly like the action of a song bird's heart. He would polish the white gold surface, check the fittings on the square cut sapphires. Under his care he wanted it to run for another four hundred years.

“We are going back home today,” she said. “The tour is over. The car is picking us up at the front in an hour. Is everything accounted for, boy?”

Secondo inspected the entire jewelry case, making sure all was there. He even considered the secret panel underneath, where a few hundred dollar bills were stored. He nodded solemnly, the most dutiful little butler she'd ever employed.

Secondo was the only one allowed to carry her travel case of jewelry. It was a small valise of ostrich leather with engraved brass to protect the corners. He was the only other one who knew the combination. When they traveled he never let his hand leave the handle. He had once seen a spy movie where a man had a handcuff and chain attached to a secret spy suitcase, and that really stirred his imagination.

I'm going to protect these, Secondo would think, and the idea of fighting off bandits and thieves with his teeth and fists would send a thrill through his little body. I'm going to defend these with my life.

***

Secondo stared out the window of the Ministry limousine, watching the ascent of the car into the canopy of old growth as they returned home. When there was nothing to say he and his mother Rebecca chose to say nothing. They sat in a silence that was comfortable to them, the soft scratching of her pen in her little datebook lulling him into calm.

Rebecca closed the book with a business-like click, elegantly stowing it in her coat breast pocket. Secondo watched the little flash of red shagreen vanish into the black wool.

“Boy.” Rebecca’s face showed nothing. She peered at him with a corvid intensity, then leaned forward, her strong nose mere inches from his face. An eyebrow twitched exactly once. “What do we have here?”

Second stared back with an equal level of stoicism, although there was the slight fluttering of anticipation behind his ribs. His mother reached out by the side of his head, feigning dramatic surprise. “Look!” She hissed. A wrapped caramel miraculously appeared from his ear, and she solemnly placed it in his hands. “Don't I tell you to wash your ears, boy?” She teased.

At that, Secondo smiled broadly, unwrapping and savoring the treat. Rebecca gave her son's knee a single pat. “Excellent work once again, my Secondo. I would not expect anything less.”

“Will we go again next year?” He asked.

“If you want,” she said.

“Europe?”

Rebecca frowned. “Not until you're older. These little tours are too much as it is on you. I know you enjoy the spotlight, boy, but you do have the rest of your life to stand under it.”

Secondo tightened his grip on the handle of her jewelry valise, glowering at the ridges of the leather seat across from him. “Why can't I be old enough right now?”

“Secondo—” and he snapped bolt upright, looking into her eyes. She used his name mostly when he was in trouble. She pulled off her glasses and began to clean them with a cloth from her jacket. The thick glasses concealed the tired wrinkles under her blue eyes. “Great men are good boys first. If you're going to be Papa Emeritus, you need to start now. And you are on the path. One step at a time.”

“But Nihil…” Secondo found it hard to understand how his proper mother ever spent a moment enjoying the presence of his freewheeling bohemian father. He suspected Rebecca felt the same.

Rebecca replaced her glasses. “I said that you are going to be a great man, Secondo.”

As the limo pulled into the circular driveway Secondo noticed two figures and some luggage standing under the front portico. Rebecca looked unusually puzzled as she helped her son out of the vehicle. One of the figures was a tall man in a very opulent fur-lined cape. He had the headwear and glittering grucifix that announced his station as a Cardinal, although he was not anyone Secondo had ever seen before. The second figure was much smaller and shyly stood behind the visitor. He was so small and hidden that Secondo assumed he was some sort of pet.

“Sister Rebecca, buon Giorno.” The Cardinal’s voice was merry, sing-songy. Foreign. “They had said you are one I will be needing a seeing, yes?” He bowed his great graying head. “I am Cardinal Raphael, sono di Milano.”

“Parlo fluentemente l'italiano, Excellenze,” said Rebecca. “How can I help you.”

Raphael’s shoulders lowered in a moment of relief. “Dov'è il Papa Emeritus questo pomeriggio? Sono qui per Sua Eccellenza.”

“è fuori. in questo momento è a San Francisco.”

“Ah, si, si…”

The two adults chattered on the step. Secondo held his mother’s hand as he observed the other visitor beside the Italian, who was slowly inching into view.

Holding onto the Cardinal’s belt end was a very small figure, bundled up. Above the mountain of his knit scarf and below the too-big beret, little cat-like eyes sparkled. It was a boy about half Secondo’s age, or younger. He had a cardboard suitcase on which a child drew a cartoon flower.

“Shall we go inside?” Rebecca finished the conversation. “You did not come all this way to stand on these steps. Come.”

A few moments later and Rebecca offered the visitors a seat at the sofa of a receiving room. She smiled as the adults settled in. Secondo took a seat in a nearby armchair, still holding the precious valise in his hand. The new boy struggled a bit with getting up onto the couch but sat there obediently, swinging his legs.

“Now,” Rebecca said, done with the pleasantries. “Why have you come all this way today, Cardinal.”

Cardinal Raphael swept out his hand. “Questo è il figlio di Papa Emeritus.” The little boy beside the cardinal blinked his eyes wide, checking in with his mentor. The Cardinal raised his bushy eyebrows, gesturing slightly with his hands. The boy screwed up his face in an attempt at nobility and bobbed his head slightly in a bow.

Rebecca’s mouth was now a thin line. “Oh? Is that so?”

“The em…his Eminence’s tour of Italy was er…in the 1964 and the 1965.”

“It most certainly was,” replied Rebecca. Her hand imperceptibly clenched the edge of her sofa chair. “I planned every last detail.”

“Perhaps not,” replied the Cardinal with a good natured chuckle, but upon seeing Rebecca’s icy expression he swallowed his own. Time crawled as she stared into him, tapping her fingers on her chair. If a sinkhole ripped open beneath the Cardinal's feet dropping him into the depths of the planet, he would thank Satan for the opportunity.

Rebecca solemnly pulled off her glasses and rested them on the side table. She arranged the datebook and fountain pen beside them, and rose to her feet. “Cardinale, mi scuso.”

She backed away elegantly, opening the parlor doors behind her and slipping inside. The Cardinal seemed to be a decently friendly man, since he attempted to break the tense silence by leaning over to address Secondo. “So eh, you….baseball?”

There was a shattering sound against a wall in the parlor. It sounded like a plate falling to pieces. Afterwards there came a great toppling noise of wood on wood, a pop and crack of carpentry destroyed under a foot. Then a wrathful scream was drowned out by the rushing, creaking crash of something large sliding to the floor. The tinkling of glass and a ceramic explosion suggested the victim to be an entire hutch of dinnerware.

The plates on the floor settled and Rebecca once more emerged, softly closing the door behind her and returning to her seat. Her face was as calm as it always was. She brought her items into her hands, writing something quickly in her book, then replacing in her jacket. “Secondo, I'm not sure if I want to buy your father a suitcase or a coffin.”

Cardinal Raphael shook his head and chuckled, but immediately recoiled once more at the glare thrown at him across the room.

The conversation became low, almost silent, the Cardinal gesturing with his hands as if he were a fencing opponent. He pulled out a crumpled piece of paper and handed it to Rebecca, who snatched it from his hands and glared at the words.

Secondo observed the little boy who was smiling to himself and admiring the carved wood paneling in the opulent receiving room. The boy noticed Secondo and presented him with a friendly mischievous grin.

Secondo frowned suspiciously back. He pulled the jewelry valise even closer to his chest.

The hushed conversation continued around them. Secondo had no idea what they were saying, but he attempted to understand the small snippets he heard.

Ci siamo presi cura di loro... quattro anni... torre della cattedrale... suicidio... è solo…

“Fine,” Rebecca said, neatly folding the note. She glanced over to Secondo, then back to her guests. She pointed at the new boy. “Stai qui per favore.”

The cardinal patted his young ward to his feet.

Rebecca leaned forward, staring into the little boy standing in front of her. Light reflected across her perfectly round spectacles, concealing her eyes and transforming her into some sort of suspicious owl, an inhuman statue. “Sei un bravo maschietto? Sei un maschietto obbediente?”

The boy winced, perhaps confused by the question. He collected himself and nodded.

“Lavorerai?”

Again he flashed a small face of concern. But he gave her one last determined nod.

“Very well,” Rebecca sighed. She leaned back in the chair and removed her glasses. There were a few beats of silence, the nun gathering her thoughts and tidying her mind from the previous moment’s sudden earthquake. She gestured from her son to the little visitor. “Secondo, this…I suppose then that this is Terzo,” she said. “Your…half-brother.”

My AO3 | Tumblr Fic List | My Obsessive Ghost AU Series aka My Flavor of Insanity

Please comment and reblog! Thank you.

[celesteficdreamland]

Bunny Hybrid Kyojuro Rengoku x F!Reader: Fuzzy (Modern AU, Pet Hybrid AU)

Summary: [Y/N] stumble across a Big Yellow Flemish Giant who is badly injured, [Y/N] acted fast to save the giant bun little does she knows the surprise that she's going into. Word Count: 4,255 words

Warnings: Blood, Adult Theme-ish (minor nudity)

"Well, you’re done with work [Y/N] and now it’s time to go home, or else your manager will demand for me to stay for night cleaning." You said to yourself as you clock out from your job.

Being a massage therapist is kind of hard but rewarding at the same time. Your family didn’t have much to spend money on from being a nurse so, 'Option B' was an option and you chose the path of helping people relax rather than saving them.

You spent 3 years learning in school sure it normally takes about 2 years to officially complete the course and apply for an official license but you added more years into the course to earn more benefits.

You receive the extra payments from both clients whether they are humans or hybrids. And let me tell you this people pay double for their pet hybrids to relax and help their body unwind from stress and gain more circulation in their blood flow.

As you leave the building the cold wind hits your body and you feel shiver from the night. Winter is right around the corner as once the season of fall ends snow will replace the environment. You get inside your car as you drive home to your apartment.

You turn on your heater to feel the warmth of your car as you drive home. It was a full moon tonight so luckily your sight on the road is a little lighter making you drive more safely.

As you were driving on the road at a distance you saw a rabbit hopping across as the rabbit stopped in its tracks it saw the light of the car and the rabbit’s eyes widened.

You immediately stomp your foot quickly on the brakes as the car immediately stops on the road. If you weren’t wearing your seatbelt you would have bumped your head against the steering wheel.

Your heart races as you are unsure if the bunny was hit or not. You shake your head as you leave your car to investigate the little creature.

You were expecting the rabbit to be small but, you saw with your eyes that it was a huge rabbit that was slumped on the road as the car was inches away from the big bun. You see it has yellow fur and with orange whiskers.

You check on the huge bunny if it was hurt as you get closer you see that it was covered with fresh scars and a bite mark. You were worried for the poor creature, you know that it wasn’t a wild rabbit because they’re mostly different from domestic ones, and the size of this rabbit shows you that his a domestic type.

You carefully place the big rabbit inside your car as you are careful about touching his injuries. You got blood on your hands as you worry about that later now it’s the rabbit's life you're worried about.

You drive your car towards the veterinary hospital where one of your friends Shinubo works as both a surgeon and chemist, it’s still early for the building to be close.

You better call her so that she can prepare some of the materials. You grab your phone and begin to type her number as press call, you hear only ringing on the other side as after a couple of seconds a Shinobu answered the phone.

"Hey [Y/N] I notice that you’re calling me, is it because your manager asked you to get more hybrid lotions since your supply run out?" Shinobu asked.

Sure, your workplace needs suppliers for some hybrid clients and Shinubo is a certified pet veterinarian for both hybrids and regular pets. The hospital also sells lotions, facemasks, and other care products for hybrids and pets.

And yes, Shinubo offers a discount to your facility as a benefit since you help her out with her projects and answer some research questioners during college. You mentioned this to your boss and got a raise from your job so that’s a plus on your point.

"No, it’s actually much more than work, I have a big injured rabbit with me so I’m taking it to your place if you can heal its wounds." You said as you drive faster.

"You said the rabbit is big it must be a Flemish giant and where did you find this kind of animal?" Shinubo asked more questions over the phone.

"I found this fella hopping across the middle of the road at night just a couple of minutes ago, I saw that it has scratches and bite marks on its body as soon as I take a closer look at the fella." You raised your voice out of concern.

You look out at the distance to see Shinubo’s veterinary, "I’m going to hang up now I’m going to have to park on the side of the entrance." You said.

"All right take the rabbit to room 104 second floor, I’ll be in that room preparing the material." Shinubo informed you before she ended the call.

You park on the side of the entrance of the veterinary hospital as you turn on the emergency light. You rushed out of the car and opened the back seat to take the big rabbit with you as the rabbit whimpers while unconscious.

You went inside and turned to the receptionist, as you briefly explained the situation and asked for help on which way is room 104 located on the second floor.

The receptionist guided you that there is a staircase on the left leading to the second floor unfortunately the elevator is down as the receptionist said. Once you see the door on the second floor someone will escort you there.

You thanked the receptionist as you followed her instructor, you arrived at the second floor while holding the big rabbit. You spot a male trainee as he holds a stretcher for the animal. You placed the rabbit on the stretcher and followed him.

He stopped at the particular room and opened the door. There you saw Shinubo with gloves and mask on as she beckoned you to come inside, there she handed you alcohol and wipes to clean your hands while the trainee transferred the rabbit onto the exam table as he set up the lights.

"You’ll be helping out to [Y/N]." Shinubo said as she reassured you of your worries before you got to complain, "Don’t worry you’ll be helping on shifting the rabbit and lifting some of the body parts."

"All right." You agreed as long as you don’t have to do surgery on the rabbit.

"Here, put this on." Shinubo handed you some medical gloves, an apron, and a mask. You put on the gloves and wear the apron and mask as you are ready to help.

Both you and Shinubo got ready as she asked the trainee for the gas to help the animal to fall asleep just in case if it wakes up during the procedure.

"Please bring me the scalpel and anesthesia" Shinubo requested the trainee to bring the materials.

You see Shinubo examined the rabbit’s body thoroughly, after a couple of minutes of studying the rabbit, she sighed and looked at you.

"I got good news and some bad news." Shinubo said while taking off her mask. "Which one would you like to hear first."

Shinubo gave you two options you would hear the good news first before the bad news.

"I want to hear the good news." You hope that it wasn’t going to be life-threatening.

"The good news is that the scars are not deep nor are they going to pose any danger to the flemish giant so there aren’t going to be any surgery today only ointment and some bandages." Shinubo gives out the lighter side of the topic

Okay so if that’s the good news then what could be the bad news "And the bad news?" You curiously said.

"As for the bad news this here flemish giant is not an animal but a hybrid in its animal form." Shinubo stated.

The information crashed into your mind as you never expected it to be a hybrid more or less out in the streets.

"How can you tell?" You wanted to know how Shinubo can tell the difference between a regular anima and a hybrid by their form.

"Okay if you want to know then lift one of its legs." Shinubo instructed you as you were obliged to do.

You lift its legs and saw that the bottom of the rabbit has dick well now you know that it’s a male.

"What am I looking for exactly?" You gave out a confusing look to your friend.

"The pattern of the hybrid’s legs is different take a look at its fur, it has a different pattern than a regular flemish giant." Shinubo then pointed out her finger as she continued.

"Like a normal rabbit, the fur would align down towards its bottom but for this fella here the small fur circling around some of its legs and its male genitals. Would help indicate that it can transform to its animal form and hybrid form." Shinubo explained.

Well, now you know how to distinguish between a regular rabbit and a hybrid rabbit.

"All right, enough talk let's help his wound now," Shinubo said as you gave out a nod.

Shinubo begins cleaning the wounds of the hybrid as she carefully wipes them. She then adds disinfection to the wound. Giving about a couple of minutes she began rubbing the ointment on the wound.

Shinubo asks for your help positioning the hybrid to cover its wound using the clothing bandage.

"It’s done for now I’ll pay your tabs with this so rest assured it's not coming out of your pockets [Y/N]." Shinubo said as she took off her gloves.

You were never expecting that "But Shinubo I’ll be paying I don’t like you to think that I’m taking advantage of you." You protested.

"No don’t you already help me out during my time in college with my ups and downs." Shinubo sighs.

You did remember that it was a hard time for her during her college life and you were always the one she opened up to and her sister as well.

"Are you planning on keeping the hybrid?" Shinubo asked you.

Shinubo’s question caught you off guard, you never had a hybrid before nor do you have any experience in taking care of them.

"I don’t really know. I thought maybe gave this fella to the hybrid pound or-" You were stopped from your mid-sentence as Shinubo interjects. "Or start taking care of this hybrid, the pound isn’t entirely good for this hybrid. The chances of getting adopted are low since many people prefer a baby version of hybrids rather than the adult ones."

"Besides you have a clean couch that can be turned into a bed so it’s a bit more hygienic for the hybrid to live in." Shinubo pointed.

"Fine, I’ll take care of the hybrid." You gave into Shinubo’s persuasion and adopted the hybrid yourself.

The trainee came back as Shinubo dismissed the intern in training.

You give your thanks to Shinubo for helping you. As you take the hybrid into your car making sure not to hurt him. You turn on your car as you drive home with your new hybrid.

You arrive at your apartment, turn off your car and carry the hybrid with you. Now that you weren’t in a panic, you started to feel how heavy the hybrid flemish giant is. Unlike earlier were you carried him into your car and hospital.

You unlock your door as you head straight into the couch and gently lay the yellow bunny down.

Even after the event that had happened, you still felt strange that this is the first time you had a hybrid into your home. You softly patted his head as the bunny form of the hybrid sleeps peacefully.

The sound of your stomach is calling out to you letting you know that it’s time for dinner. You leave the hybrid alone as you start heading towards the kitchen area.

You decided on making some mac and cheese with fruit salad on the side. As you prepared the ingredients on the counter and started cooking.

After a while, the food you made was now done as you served the mac and cheese on your plate and separated the fruit salad in a bowl.

As the spoon was almost at the entrance of your mouth, you suddenly heard the sound of something that dropped. You whip your head towards the sound as you spot the hybrid yellow bunny in a panic as it is on a corner staring directly at you.

The remote was on the ground along with some picture frames knocked down.

You were surprised that it was awake as you slowly headed your way toward the big fella. As soon you approach the rabbit it slowly tries to back itself more into the corner. His nose started shifting as the rabbit looked at the table with food.

You followed its gaze landing on your food as it was hungry. That gives you an idea, you take your fruit salad and slowly approach the hybrid, slowly putting down the bowl at the distance to make sure you aren’t being aggressive towards him.

"Come on big guy I’m not here to harm you" as you shifted the bowl towards him making sure that he would see the food in the bowl. "It’s for you if you’re hungry." You coed at the rabbit to eat.

As the hybrid was wary of you, he slowly hopped towards the food as his noose twitched every second as he came closer to the fruit salad.

You see the rabbit come closer and closer to the bowl as he begins to taste the fruits. Once he eats one of the sliced strawberries, the yellow rabbit quickly eats the whole fruit as every second he devours each and every piece of fruit leaving nothing behind.

The rabbit looks up directly at you, perhaps it knows that you’re not a threat.

"There are still more fruits and vegetables inside the fridge if you’re still hungry." You informed as you took the bowl and headed towards the kitchen and placed it on the sink.

You open the fridge and decided on picking two carrots as you encourage the hybrid rabbit to come closer, it was hesitant for a little but obliges as he is in front of you. You placed down the two carrots right by its front legs and you saw the big rabbit chewing happily at what you offered.

You can’t help that its bunny ears twitch every second as it eats, you gently pat its head. The moment your hand made contact with its body the bunny freezes before gently getting accustomed to the soft hands on its head.

You give him an extra carrot as you leave him to eat his meals while you start to eat your mac and cheese while looking at the hybrid bunny on the floor enjoying his carrots.

After finishing your meal, you grab a bowl and fill it with water as you place it near the hybrid bunny "Here you go big fella some water to help soothe your thirst."

As the bunny saw the water in front of him its cute tongue gently drinks the water. You can’t help how cute his interaction with the way his drinking the water makes you want to scoop him into your arms and snuggle around the big fella.

You stop yourself from pouncing on the rabbit as you decide to wash the dishes. Maybe this wasn’t so bad keeping the hybrid with you.

After a few minutes, you see the hybrid bunny begin to stand still, maybe it was still tired.

You go over to the couch as you change the sofa into a bed, you then go to your room and grab a few pillows and a blanket for your new hybrid. You lay them down, you make sure that it looks comfortable and cozy to sleep in.

"Hey there big fella." You said as you grabbed the attention of the hybrid bunny, you outstretch your hand, testing to see if the hybrid was comfortable with your presence.

The hybrid bunny approaches your hands and takes a couple of sniffs before standing still. You hope that means a sign that it's comfortable with you.

"I’m going to carry you now and place you on the bed, okay." You softly whisper to the hybrid as you mindfully avoid touching his bandages, you manage to carry the big rabbit into your arms as you approach the pile of pillows and blankets.

You were thankful that it didn’t squirm nor did it thrash around your arms, you gently laid him down. "It’s already late bun I hope that you will sleep peacefully tonight." You said as you give the hybrid bunny a few head pats before heading to your room.

You give one last look to see the giant rabbit being curios with the blankets and pillows before laying down as the bunny likes the bed that it’s going to sleep.

You were awake as the morning rays gently hits on your face. You open the door and head towards the kitchen for breakfast. You open the fridge to get some cereal and milk you look to your left and was faced with a person.

You jumped from his approach as he was near you all naked! And you swore you seen every inch of his private part! You were about to scream but soon noticed the bunny ears and his red eyes were the same as your hybrid bunny. Until you remembered the event from last night shot right back into your memories. This person who has a flame-like hair that transitioned from pale yellow at the roots to a vivid orange at the tips. His hair is also spikey that reach to his shoulder-length manner.

"Hello! Owner!" The naked hybrid in front of you has a plastered of confident and enthusiastic smile on his face.

His voice is also loud as he was yelling.

"Please lower down your voice I don’t want my next-door neighbors complaining to the landlord early in the morning" You requested at the hybrid man.

Before he could apologize to you, you told him to wait here as you went to your room. You came back and brought out a gray colored sweatpants and a black t-shirt from your brother as he forgot to bring some of his clothes back when he was crashing at your apartment.

"Here wear this." You hand over the clothes to the blond hybrid as you look away while he begins to put on the pants and clothes. You also felt bad that some of his body contains scars, good thing some of the bandages are wrapped around the wound while some are gone.

"Thank you for bringing me these wearable fabrics." The blond hybrid gives you, his thanks.

"You’re welcome." You said, "Do you have a name?"

The blond hybrid nodded his head, "My name is Kyojuro from the special breeds of Rengoku." Kyojuro passionately said.

"Huh? Rengoku special breeds?" You were curious about what Kyojuro meant by special breeds.

"The Rengoku breeds are special breeds of fighting rabbits. Such as me." Kyojuro said as his smile still plastered on his face.

Once you got the gist of fighting that means that Kyojuro was a fighter in an illegal hybrid match. It was declared illegal by the government that hybrids are not supposed to be used for fighting especially where it involves the winner to live and the loser to die.

"So, you escaped last night, weren’t you?" You wanted to confirm if Kyojuro escaped his captors.

As soon as you spoke those words out of your mouth, you can see Kyojuro’s face begin to falter as his smile slowly shifts into a pained expression.

"I don’t want to go back into the ring." Kyojuro voiced out his struggling words. "Please… I’ll do anything… anything that you want just don’t bring me back to the ring." Kyojuro painfully begged as he was on his knees, his hands gripping on your pajama.

Seeing his pained expression makes you pity him, you pat his head you feel his hair is sticky but you don’t mind, you gently touch his bunny ears.

"Don’t worry I’m not going to send you back and call me by my name [Y/N]." You softly said as you shifted on your hands switching your petting from his bunny ears and his head.

You feel Kyojuro begin to feel comfortable but you need both of you to eat breakfast as you help Kyojuro stand up. You better give Kyojuro a bath later.

"Now why don’t we eat breakfast." You announced as Kyojuro seemed to be excited at the mention of food.

You place bowls at the table, you look at Kyojuro crouching on the floor. "Why don’t you take a set Kyojuro." "But, owner only you humans get to have the privilege of eating on the table and we hybrids only eat from the floor." Kyojuro protested.

Okay so the people handling Kyojuro are a bunch of asses, you can’t believe that they would have to force him to eat from the floor.

"No, Kyojuro even hybrids have rights and refused to surrender with abuse. You are allowed to sit on the chair.." You patted on the chair for him to sit on, "It’s all right I won’t throw you out besides I have the responsibility of taking care of you."

You can see the Kyojuro widen his eyes from what you said. He then sat on the chair as you added cereal to his bowl and poured milk.

You did the same to yours as you begin to eat your cereal, you looked at Kyojuro as he wasn’t eating his cereal. "Is something wrong?"

"I’m just waiting for your permission for me to eat" Kyojuro stared at you.

You were shocked that they also wouldn’t allow him to eat without someone commanding him to. You will help Kyojuro get through with this and hope that he will recover and be a free hybrid.

"You know you don’t need my permission if I’m serving food to you." You confessed, "So, eat the cereal before it goes soggy." You smiled at the blond hybrid.

"Thank you, owner." Kyojuro said as he scoops the cereal with his hands. The milk and some cereal drips from his hands and onto the table.

You can’t help but feel sad for him, you rather guide him than letting him be. You stand up from your chair as Kyojuro seems to be tense as if he has done something to upset you.

You went closer to Kyojuro as you handed him a spoon. "Do you know how to use this?" You asked as Kyojuro responded by shaking his head.

"Here let me show you how to use a spoon." You said as you scooped the cereal with your spoon and hovered the spoon at the entrance of Kyojuro's mouth.

Kyojuro opens his mouth as you feed him. The interaction between the two of you was like spoon-feeding a baby. It's funny but you're determined to help Kyojuro as much as you can.

"See if you eat from the spoons it's easier to hold the milk with the cereal without spilling them. Why don’t you try." You said as you handed the spoon to Kyojuro’s hand, he took the spoon and began to eat from the utensil rather than his hands.

Kyojuro seemed to like this way of eating. "If all the cereal is gone from the bowl you can drink directly from it." You informed as you headed back to eating your own cereal.

You even showed him by taking both hands with the bowl and drinking from it, you want to avoid Kyojuro drinking the bowl with his face planted straight into the bowl of milk.

After both of you are done eating your cereal. You haven’t given it a thought that you need to buy Kyojuro some special needs for him, luckily it's your day off today until two days until Monday.

You look over at Kyojuro to see that he isn’t comfortable, "Is something the matter?" You asked.

"No owner I don’t want to bother you." Kyojuro Joyfully said but you weren’t having it. "I know something wrong and I’m here to make sure to attend to your needs."

Given that you prioritize your clients well being on what they’re comfortable to choose.

"It’s nothing to worry about owner. My tail felt uncomfortable around the pants" Kyojuro gave in.

Is that why he keeps on shifting his pants so and then. "Don’t worry I will cut some holes so your tail won’t be uncomfortable."

"Thank you so much, owner!" Kyojuro exclaimed with his loud voice as you covered your ears from his loudness, welp you better have a long nice talk with the landlord about this.

I guess you can say that this is a story [Y/N] the human and your Hybrid bunny Kyojuro from the Rengoku breed of rabbits

And that’s how you started your day with Kyojuro your new hybrid. Making sure that he is well cared for. Perhaps in the near future everything will change but you made sure to keep him happy and free.

[obscure-imaginations]

I can see you have been asking for some requests. I love Kain so much, so I was wondering how he would be during giving comfort especially to his human with chronic illnesses such as TMJ (Temporomandibular joint dysfunction) and IBS (Irritable Bowel Syndrome) I've been struggling with for a while now. Can be both SFW and NSFW if that's okay, or one or other other, I don't mind :3

Hello! I know of IBS, but I did some research into TMJ to help fully get the feel. If anything is incorrect, I do apologize. I definitely get you, chronic illness is a demon, and not in the nice wraith-y way.

SFW, cut for space. Caution for mentions of gore (Melchiahim) and Kain being a villain in the standard Kain way. Gods, I love him but his spacial awareness is... lacking.

Kain, in usual fashion, doesn't get it. Are humans really this fragile? After some research and listening to his human describe their experiences, he gets angry. What kind of existence is that? If the Melchiahim have problems with their jaws, they can sew on a new one. A joint doesn't move right, they can pick a human's who does and take it. If their guts don't work, cut them out and let them regrow. It's painful, sure, but at least it has a solution! (No one tell him the reality yet, he's only just now learning that people exist outside of himself.)

The worst part is that he knows he can't do anything about it. He's a man of action, so sitting around and not finding permanent solutions bothers him. He hates that his human has to suffer. He can't beat the problem into submission or debate it to death so he feels useless.

Once his human sits him down and explains how he can help, he follows instructions... as best he can. He makes sure you take any medicine on time. He ensures you're doing what the doctors and physical therapists say. He takes you to appointments and is quite diligent about making sure you're taking care of yourself. He can be overbearing and sometimes demanding, so don't be afraid to set him straight. He's learning that he actually *does* want to help.

For temporomandibular joint dysfunction in particular, he laments he can't massage the muscles without fear of clawing your face apart. He'll get any custom mouth guards for you, if they help. He tries his best to help with food if chewing is painful, helping soften it when he cooks for you- yes, he's a vampire with no need to eat human things, but he enjoys it as a hobby. Now he gets to put that hobby to use!

Including IBS symptoms! He'll work with you to find whatever dishes taste the best and don't irritate your symptoms. He's not afraid to get taste testers of... lesser value to ensure his methods work correctly. Then he presents what he has and prays you'll be okay. He helps get medicines to keep flare ups down. He talks to healers and has herbs for you to try.

All in all, he wants to help and does his best to do so.

[disastrouslyyours]

Uploading the wives first!! More info below the cut.

Celeste: Celeste is a humanoid fruit bat who works as Gideon's personal assistant/secretary! Her job is very demanding, as her charge is rather... eclectic. She is often seen with a relatively neutral expression, unless in the presence of her beloved wife, Bea. (Or when laughing at whatever trouble Gideon has found himself in.) She loves 60's inspired fashion, especially dresses in yellow, orange, or floral patterns.

Bea: Bea (Beatrice to her wife) is a jelly girl who works as a holistic massage therapist. She is married to Celeste and has a passion for vintage/vintage-inspired clothing. She is a self-described "girly girl" who loves any excuse to go shopping and treat herself. 

[carnivorousyandeere]

Third yan in the Physical Therapist/Massage Therapist trio AU with Penny and Marcus was trained first as a chiropractor, although Penny and Marcus are most certainly not sold on that particular form of therapy. They’re tall, almost bordering on lanky. Wavy chestnut hair. If you were wondering which of the three mentioned in a previous ask about the medical trio, who is most likely to cry during sex with Darling, it’s the Chiropractor. They’re the type to follow you to the gym and home to watch you change clothes and shower, to steal your sweaty towels and dirty underwear. They want to worship their Darling like a deity but finds themself at a loss for how sometimes. Every touch of theirs is reverent, worshipful— but the more you allow, the more desperate and demanding they get. Their biggest hobby outside stalking you is nail art. Even if you’re not the type to have painted nails, they daydream about getting to do your nails for you. And getting scratched by you hard enough to bleed if they’re in a certain mood… which they usually are.