#therapeutic precision.

[b0ybutch]

artist eddie diaz save me… you don’t exist in canon but save me please

[medical-billing-service-0]

Optimizing Financial Management with Chiropractic Billing Services

In the healthcare sector, chiropractic care plays a vital role in managing musculoskeletal conditions, improving mobility, and enhancing patients' overall quality of life. However, managing the financial aspects of a chiropractic practice can be challenging due to the unique nature of treatments, frequent patient visits, and varying insurance policies. This is where medical billing services come into play, ensuring that chiropractic practices can focus on providing care while their financial operations run smoothly. These services streamline the billing process, minimize errors, and enhance reimbursement rates, which ultimately leads to better revenue management for chiropractic practices.

What Are Chiropractic Billing Services?

Chiropractic billing services are specialized financial solutions designed to meet the unique needs of chiropractic practices. These services are a critical component of Revenue Cycle Management (RCM) services, which oversee the entire process of patient billing, from claim submission to final payment. Chiropractic billing services handle everything from insurance verification and coding of chiropractic adjustments to following up on claims and managing denials. Since chiropractic care often involves ongoing treatments and multiple patient visits, these billing services ensure that claims are submitted accurately and promptly, reducing delays and maximizing revenue.

The Importance of Medical Billing and Coding in Chiropractic Care

Accurate medical billing and coding is essential for chiropractic practices to ensure that they are compensated for the services they provide. Chiropractic care involves various treatments, such as spinal adjustments, physical therapy, and other therapeutic services, each of which requires precise coding to avoid errors. Incorrect or incomplete coding can lead to claim denials or underpayments, which can negatively affect a practice’s cash flow. By partnering with experienced billing professionals who specialize in medical billing and coding, chiropractic practices can ensure that their claims are submitted correctly and in compliance with industry standards, leading to improved financial outcomes.

Benefits of Healthcare IT in Chiropractic Billing

In the digital age, Healthcare IT has transformed the way billing services are managed, offering numerous benefits for chiropractic practices. Advanced billing software and electronic health record (EHR) systems streamline the billing process by automating tasks such as claim submission, coding, and patient record management. Healthcare IT reduces human error, speeds up payment cycles, and allows for better communication between chiropractic providers and insurance companies. Additionally, real-time tracking and reporting features enable chiropractic practices to monitor the status of claims and payments, ensuring that revenue is managed efficiently. Healthcare IT enhances both the accuracy and efficiency of chiropractic billing, leading to improved practice operations.

Chiropractic Billing Services at Mediclaim Management

Mediclaim Management offers specialized Chiropractic Billing Services designed to meet the needs of chiropractic practices. With a deep understanding of the unique challenges that chiropractors face, their team of billing experts ensures that all aspects of the billing process are handled with precision and care. Mediclaim Management’s Chiropractic Billing Services help providers reduce billing errors, increase claim approval rates, and expedite reimbursements. By partnering with Mediclaim Management, chiropractic practices can focus on delivering high-quality care to their patients while ensuring that their financial operations run smoothly in the background.

With Mediclaim Management’s Chiropractic Billing Services, chiropractic providers can optimize their revenue cycle, reduce financial stress, and ensure that their practice remains financially healthy. This allows chiropractors to focus on what truly matters—improving the health and well-being of their patients.

[market-insider]

Clinical Trials : Holistic Exploration of the Current State and Future Outlook

The global clinical trials market size is expected to reach USD 123.5 billion by 2030, expanding at a CAGR of 6.49 from 2024 to 2030, according to a new report by Grand View Research, Inc. An increase in the volume and complexity of clinical trials has been witnessed lately, which plays an important role in the R&D of new drugs and products. The market witnessed a decline of 6% in 2020 owing to the COVID-19 pandemic. However, the market is projected to recover from 2021 onwards. In addition, clinical trials have become increasingly costly, adding to the overall cost of developing a drug.

Clinical Trials Market Report Highlights

The phase III clinical trials segment dominated the market with a 53.3% share in 2023. This can be attributed to the complexity of this phase

The interventional studies segment dominated the market in 2023. It is one of the most prominent methods used in clinical trials in the study design segment owing to the increasing demand for the intervention for clinical trials by researchers

North America held 50.3% of the market share in 2023. Favorable government initiatives and the presence of a large number of players in the U.S. that offer advanced services are responsible for market growth

Asia Pacific region is anticipated to grow at the fastest CAGR over the forecast period owing to the increasing patient pool and cost-efficient services.

For More Details or Sample Copy please visit link @: Clinical Trials Market Report

The increasing need for developing new drugs for chronic diseases, such as cancer, respiratory disorders, diabetes, cardiovascular diseases, and others, is creating immense pressure on the healthcare industry. The COVID-19 pandemic and the increasing demand for developing a suitable treatment are driving the market. The high number of people affected by the disease further depicts an increasing need for therapeutics & vaccines. Currently, there are 288 therapeutics and 106 vaccines under development, out of which, nearly 7.0% of therapeutics are in Phase IV, 21.0% in Phase III, and 43.0% & 13.0% in Phase II & Phase I, respectively.

The pandemic has resulted in the global disruption of traditional onsite clinical trials. Hence, regulatory bodies worldwide have undertaken various initiatives for fast-tracking clinical trials for the development of innovative solutions. One such instance is Solidarity, an international clinical trial launched by the WHO to find effective treatment against COVID-19. Although the pandemic has forced many medical device & drug developers to revise the approach to such crises, integrating best practices within clinical trial procedures & adapting to virtual trials, which can support the continuous development of therapeutics.

ClinicalTrials #HealthcareResearch #MedicalInnovation #DrugDevelopment #PatientRecruitment #Biopharmaceuticals #ClinicalResearch #RegulatoryCompliance #DataManagement #PatientEngagement #PrecisionMedicine #TherapeuticTrials #CROs #ClinicalResearchOrganizations #GlobalHealth #ClinicalStudyDesign #PharmaceuticalIndustry #BiotechResearch #ClinicalEndpoints #HealthTechIntegration

[dental1234]

"Beyond Borders: Finding the Best Dentists Near Illinois, Niles, and Des Plaines"

Embark on a journey "Beyond Borders" as we explore the quest for the best dentists near Illinois, Niles, and Des Plaines. In the expansive landscape of Illinois, finding the best dentists near Illinois transcends geographical boundaries. These dental professionals redefine the standards of care, offering a comprehensive approach that goes beyond the ordinary, ensuring your oral health journey is characterized by precision, commitment, and excellence.

For residents of Niles, the search for the best dentists near Niles becomes an adventure beyond city limits. These practitioners in Niles are dedicated to providing top-tier dental care, emphasizing preventive measures, therapeutic solutions, and cosmetic enhancements. Your journey to optimal oral wellness in Niles takes you beyond borders, where each visit to the dentist becomes an exploration of superior care and personalized attention.

In the charming community of Des Plaines, the best dentists near Des Plaines beckon you to explore dental care beyond the conventional. Beyond city limits, these practitioners redefine the dental experience, blending advanced technologies with a compassionate touch. Your journey to a radiant smile in Des Plaines becomes a borderless exploration, where the boundaries of conventional care are surpassed for an enhanced and transformative experience.

"Beyond Borders: Finding the Best Dentists in Illinois, Niles, and Des Plaines" invites you to step into a realm where superior dental care knows no bounds. Whether in Illinois, Niles, or Des Plaines, let this exploration guide you beyond borders, where every smile receives the attention and expertise it deserves, transcending geographical limits for an unparalleled dental experience.

[mental-mona]

“The Jewish response to trauma is counter-intuitive and extraordinary. You defeat fear by joy. You conquer terror by collective celebration. You prepare a festive meal, invite guests, give gifts to friends. While the story is being told, you make an unruly noise as if not only to blot out the memory of Amalek, but to make a joke out of the whole episode. You wear masks. You drink a little too much. You make a Purim spiel.” Precisely because the threat was so serious, you refuse to be serious – and in that refusal you are doing something very serious indeed. You are denying your enemies a victory. You are declaring that you will not be intimidated. As the date of the scheduled destruction approaches, you surround yourself with the single most effective antidote to fear: joy in life itself. As the three-sentence summary of Jewish history puts it: “They tried to destroy us. We survived. Let’s eat.” Humour is the Jewish way of defeating hate. What you can laugh at, you cannot be held captive by.

Rabbi Lord Jonathan Sacks zt"l, "The Therapeutic Joy of Purim," article published 1 March 2015

[kpop-imgaines-at-your-demand]

How about johnny with stubble eating you out

Break time

Warning : nothing except the fact that it's a shameless smut.

A/N : So many eating out requests; you all really want your idols between your legs.

It was break time, so Johnny didn’t have to shave every single day. A light stubble was growing on his face. You admired it. He always looked good, whether clean-shaven or with a bit of scruff. Sometimes, you wondered what he’d look like with a full beard, but you doubted you’d ever get to see it. Most idols couldn’t grow one. Still, you liked the rugged charm of his stubble. You were staring at him when he suddenly looked up and asked, “Is something on my face?”

“No,” you replied quickly.

He shrugged and went back to what he was doing but the thought lingered in your mind long after. You couldn't help but wonder how his stubble would feel against your fingertips, your lips… your skin. Against your thighs. You shuddered at the thought.

Johnny’s voice snapped you out of your daze. “Where are you lost? I’ve been calling you.”

You blinked up at him, shaking your head. Before you could gather yourself, he suddenly placed his hands on your shoulders and pulled you into a soft hug from behind. His voice was warm against your neck.

“What is it? Why do you look so dazed?”

You sighed softly. It felt strange to say it out loud.

“…Your beard is growing.”

Johnny hummed. “Oh. Is it bad? I’ll shave it tomorrow—I was just being lazy.”

You stopped his rambling with a simple, “I like it.”

His arms around you stiffened slightly. “You… like it?” He sounded almost surprised.

“Yes,” you admitted, voice quieter this time. “I like it a lot… And I was wondering how it would feel against my skin.”

There was a beat of silence. Then, slowly, Johnny turned you around to face him. His eyes darkened, his gaze dropping to your lips.

“Well,” he murmured, voice lower now. “There’s only one way to find out.”

He looked at you, his gaze dark and unreadable, before leaning in for a kiss. The rough tickle of his stubble sent a shiver through you as his lips moved down to your neck, brushing against sensitive skin. A soft sigh escaped you and without thinking, you grabbed his wrist and pulled him toward the bedroom.You barely made it to the bed before he caught you, lifting you effortlessly and pushing you back against the wall. His breath was warm against your collarbone as he tugged your shirt down, lips trailing lower.

“You’re so impatient,” you murmured, though your hands betrayed you, fingers tangling in his hair, holding him close against your chest. You felt his muffled chuckle vibrate against your skin before he lifted his head, meeting your gaze with a teasing smirk. “Is that so?”

It wasn’t just a question—it was a challenge. A silent threat that he could be patient. Patient enough to drive you mad. And you wanted every second of it. You said nothing, only cupped his jaw with slow, deliberate strokes, letting your fingers map the shape of him. The contrast between the sharpness of his stubble and the softness of your palms felt strangely therapeutic, grounding you in the moment. His eyes flickered at the touch, darkening slightly. "Careful," he warned, his voice rougher now. "You might get addicted to that."

You smiled, letting your thumb brush over his lower lip. "Maybe I already am."

Johnny didn’t waste a second. He grabbed your wrist and pulled you toward the bed, his grip firm but controlled. Before you could fully process it, he was already hooking his fingers into the waistband of your panties, dragging them down with swift precision. You raised an eyebrow at him, half amused, half expectant.

He smirked, leaning in close until his lips were just a breath away from your ear. “Well, you just took a shower, didn’t you?” His voice was low, teasing. “What’s better than fresh, clean pussy?”

Heat pooled in your stomach at his blunt words. He always had a way of saying things that made your breath hitch, made your skin feel too tight. You barely had a second to react before he was pressing your thighs apart, settling between them like he belonged there.

“Johnny....”

“Shh,” he murmured, his stubble grazing against your inner thigh as he kissed the soft skin there. The sensation sent a shiver through you, anticipation winding tight in your belly. Your fingers curled into the sheets as he moved lower, his hands gripping your thighs to hold you still. His touch was deliberate, slow, as if savoring the moment, as if making sure you felt everything. And God, you did.

The room was dimly lit, the soft glow of the bedside lamp casting long shadows. You lay sprawled against the pillows, your breath unsteady, fingers gripping the sheets. And Johnny… Johnny knelt between your legs, looking up at you with that lazy smirk, the stubble on his jaw rough against your skin. You had never felt so exposed, so utterly vulnerable under his gaze. He touched you like he had all the time in the world, his large hands gripping your thighs, fingers pressing into your skin as if anchoring himself there.

“Relax,” he murmured, his voice thick and warm, sending shivers down your spine.

You weren’t sure you could. Not when his breath was ghosting over you, not when anticipation coiled so tightly inside you that you thought you might snap from just the waiting. Then, finally, he moved. The first brush of his lips was almost too soft, more of a tease than anything else, but you felt it everywhere. A slow, dragging press of his mouth, his stubble scraping against your inner thigh as he took his time, tasting you, savoring the way your body trembled beneath him. A strangled sound left your lips, your fingers finding his hair, tugging just slightly. He chuckled against you, the vibration making your head spin.

“You’re impatient,” he teased, his voice muffled against your skin. You would have argued, but then he pressed closer, and all coherent thought vanished. It was maddening—the slow, deliberate way he worked, the rough contrast of his jaw against the unbearable softness of his tongue. Every sensation was heightened, like the world had narrowed down to just this, just him.

Your legs tensed, your breath coming in shallow gasps, but he only tightened his grip, holding you in place as he continued his slow, torturous worship. The heat built steadily, a slow burn that left you dizzy, lost in the rhythm of his touch, in the feeling of being completely undone. And then—just as you were about to tumble over the edge—he pulled back slightly, his lips brushing against your thigh as he looked up at you, his eyes dark and knowing.

“Tell me what you want,” he murmured. You couldn’t form words. Couldn’t think beyond the desperate need pooling inside you. But you didn’t have to. Because Johnny already knew. And he wasn’t done with you yet. Suddenly, you felt a strange sensation on the hood of your clit. It was different—rough but not unpleasant. You lifted your head slightly, breath hitching, only to see Johnny deliberately grazing his stubble against you. Then, slowly, he ran it along your slit.

The sensation was new, unexpected, and absolutely electrifying. You shuddered. He seemed to notice immediately, smirking as he added the rough drag of his stubble to the rhythm of his sucking and licking. Your body responded instantly. The sharp contrast between the warmth of his mouth and the friction of his unshaven jaw sent you spiraling toward the edge. Your fingers clenched the sheets, your thighs trembled, and with a final, broken gasp, you shattered, coming undone all over his face. Johnny pulled back slightly, lips parted, chest rising and falling as he caught his breath. His face glistened with the evidence of your pleasure—something he couldn’t simply wipe away with the back of his hand. You stared at him, completely wrecked, as he stood up and reached for a cloth. He wiped his chin, then touched his jaw with amusement.

“Well,” he mused, glancing at you with a lazy grin, “looks like I need to wash up properly.”

Then, with that signature cocky smirk, he turned to you. “You liked it, didn’t you?” His voice dropped to a teasing drawl. “Came just from that. No fingers this time at all. Looks like I just found your weakness.”

You huffed, still breathless but unwilling to let him have the last word. “Don’t be so confident,” you murmured, tilting your head. “Or I might just force you to keep that stubble forever.”

Johnny laughed, the deep, satisfied sound filling the room. “Oh?” He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your swollen lips. “Now that, sweetheart, doesn’t sound like a bad deal at all.”

[twistedcrumbs2]

A Premium Shower with Vil Schonheint

Another One from the intrusive thoughts series. Deal with it.

For Vil Schoenheit, sharing a premium shower with you at least once a month is more than just a habit — it’s a ritual, sacred and unwavering. He follows this tradition religiously, treating it as a cornerstone of your relationship. To him, it’s the perfect moment to unwind by your side, to wash away the stress of life, and to reconnect with you on a deeply intimate level.

Vil won’t deny it: it’s therapeutic. There’s something about those moments that feels almost magical — the soft scent of your shampoo, the smooth texture of your skin against his, the warm glow of candlelight reflecting off the water. For someone who cherishes every little detail, this kind of closeness is pure gold. It’s also an opportunity for him to slow down and talk to you, undisturbed by the chaos of daily life.

And let’s face it — dating a man who’s a renowned actor, model, singer, and part-time influencer means that finding time together isn’t easy. Vil’s schedule is constantly packed with filming, runway shows, photoshoots, and rehearsals. The physical distance is an unfortunate reality of your relationship, which is exactly why he treasures these intimate moments so much.

But don’t mistake this for an ordinary shower. It’s anything but. Your premium shower is a full-fledged event, complete with a step-by-step process that Vil orchestrates with precision. He transforms the bathroom into a luxurious spa: the water temperature is always perfect, the bath is infused with rich bath salts for silky-soft skin, and fragrant candles are strategically placed to create an atmosphere that’s nothing short of enchanting. Yes, the shower is taken in the dark, but the candlelight adds a warm, serene glow, making the space feel like a scene straight out of a luxury product commercial.

Of course, Vil has an entire collection of high-end products reserved solely for these occasions. Only the best brands with top-tier ingredients make the cut. You’ve both turned this into a shared passion, constantly messaging each other about new finds, exchanging reviews of shampoos, hair masks, and body washes. Vil often indulges in impulse purchases during his travels, buying products just so he can test them with you. Your bathroom cabinet is overflowing with these treasures, but neither of you can resist adding more — because life is better with options, isn’t it?

When the time finally comes, Vil begins by meticulously washing your hair. He’s methodical: first, a pre-shampoo treatment, followed by a scalp massage to stimulate hair growth, then a rich hydrating mask, and finally, a conditioner to seal in all the goodness. His touch is so careful and deliberate that it feels like you’ve stepped into a five-star salon. And, of course, Vil expects you to return the favor. Not that he ever says so outright — he simply rests his head in your lap and waits, trusting you’ll match his effort.

One of his favorite parts? Watching you melt under his touch as he massages your scalp. The way your shoulders relax and your eyes flutter closed gives him a quiet sense of satisfaction. Moments like these remind him why these rituals are so special.

But nothing compares to the moment he pulls you into his arms under the warm water. The tranquil stillness, broken only by the sound of your breathing, feels like a sanctuary. Vil closes his eyes, wishing — just for a second — that time would stop, allowing him to stay in this peaceful bubble with you forever.

While the products work their magic on your hair, Vil takes the opportunity to share stories about his latest projects. He talks about photo shoots, rehearsals, and behind-the-scenes tidbits from his films. Naturally, he also seizes the chance to educate you about the products you're using. He’s a walking encyclopedia of beauty knowledge, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

After the bath, the ritual isn’t over — far from it. Next comes the exfoliation. Vil carefully applies a gentle scrub, working it into your skin with slow, deliberate strokes. He doesn’t miss a spot: arms, legs, back — every inch of you is treated with the same meticulous attention. When it’s his turn, you do your best to match his expertise, but he always smiles knowingly and offers gentle corrections.

And then comes the highlight: the oil massage. Vil’s hands work wonders, gliding across your skin with practiced ease. His touch is so soothing that you’ve fallen asleep more than once. He doesn’t mind — in fact, he finds it endearing to see you so completely at ease.

Finally, there’s the last step: skincare. Wrapped in matching velvet robes, Vil leads you to the bathroom sink for a complete routine. From the cleansing foam to the serums and hydrating masks, every step is executed with the precision of someone who takes beauty very seriously. You do your best to follow along, but it’s hard not to get distracted by the passion in his voice as he explains the purpose of each product.

By the end of it all, both of you feel utterly renewed. Your skin glows, your body feels light, and your mind is at peace. Vil lies beside you with a contented smile, already looking forward to the next premium shower. And you? Well, you can hardly wait either.

[mm-lurking]

To him, you are love.

Something I wrote in my friend’s dms while my simping juices were flowing. Written with Blade and Al-Haitham in my mind, but you can imagine your favourites.

Warnings: x fem! reader, pure fluff — The idea of his large, rough calloused yet gentle hands as he rests them on your smaller frame; he’s shocked by just how tiny you are and how he can fully enclose you in his arms like a vine that snakes around tree branches

The idea of just pressing your back into his chest and resting your head on the crook of his neck as his face and hair shades you from everything else and his beating heart soothes you

The idea of them just learning to sit with you in silence, learning to understand what love and to be loved is like, the silent message that their heavy breathing speaks, the gentleness in holding you in their arms as they protect you with quite literally everything they have

The idea of them just admiring you as you close your eyes and inhale their scent, completely satisfied with their existence while they struggle to embrace the concept of affection; it's so foreign but so pleasant and they cant help it because it's you, it's you whose breaking their barriers down and letting them know how to love

The idea of how he looks at you with such gentleness and tenderness and he finds an uncertain emotion stirring in his heart, the emotions violently tug on his heart strings and he just knows he's going to have you around for the rest of his life

The idea of how everything and anything you do killing him, he's absolutely floored by the littlest of your touches, giggles and smiles, the idea of him trying to just breathe as naturally as he can when he's with you but by god he cannot breathe when it comes to you

The idea of him going from not liking physical affection and anyone in his personal space to craving you to be around, he cannot bear to part with you in the privacy of your home, to deny holding your hands is to deny the very oxygen he breaths, he needs you, he needs your touch, he needs the way your gentle fingertips brush against his rough ones, the way your fingers so perfectly intertwine with his, you are sculpted to be his and no one can tell him otherwise

The idea of him accepting his fate, just completely surrendering himself to you as you trace his battle scars and whisper sweet-nothings into his ears; how could someone's touch and voice be so therapeutic and healing? He is drawn to the warmth you radiate like a moth buzzing around the streetlight on a dark night- yes that's precisely what you are to him, the light of his dark cold life and it drives him insane but he's addicted to you and he cannot withdraw himself away

Never had he thought he would express what they called love. It was a foolish emotion to him, one that distracted him from the path he had chosen to take. He did not have the time to love and be loved when life had never granted him a reason to do so. Then you came around and he's swept off his feet, and the more he tried to deny it the stronger these feelings got. How did someone break the walls of his heart so easily, so swiftly? How could someone just enter his life and crumble the shield he had built for himself so painstakingly? What magic did you possess in your words that he had fallen spellbound too?

And now here he was, with you in his arms, safe and secure, taken in every bit of you like a parched traveller who had gotten the taste of cool fresh water after days of thirst. If this was love, if this was what those foolish scholars and everyday humans giggled around about then he was willing to name himself as a fool too; for he was your fool, and yours only.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇ ©mm-lurking 2024 do not copy, steal or reuse my work.

[kikyoupdates]

Otherworldly Attraction ⭑˚🔮⭑ 𝑎 𝑠𝑢𝑑𝑑𝑒𝑛 𝑒𝑛𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑟

yandere!jjk x f!reader

yandere, reverse harem, isekai, jujutsu kaisen x fem!reader, slowburn, slowburn yandere

You don't know how or why, but you've been isekai'd into the world of Jujutsu Kaisen. Although your first instinct is to stay away from the plot, you've been blessed with an abnormal amount of cursed energy, and for better or worse, you find yourself sucked into the storyline. You decide that you may as well use your newfound powers for the greater good, and if you're lucky, you might succeed in rewriting some of the characters' fates. But it turns out that your presence in this world is an even bigger deal than you first thought, and soon, everyone wants to make you theirs.

previous | story masterlist | next

The door slides open to reveal two students, a girl and a boy, sitting around a table while they eat their lunches. Itadori steps inside, still grinning widely, and their heads turn at the sound of his voice.

“Hey, guys! I just dropped by for lunch, if that’s okay. Oh, and I brought a friend! This is [Name],” he happily introduces. 

You’re too stunned by the fact that he just referred to you as his friend to process much else, and by that point, the two students have already stood up. 

“It’s nice to meet you, [Name],” the girl greets with a smile. “I’m Sasaki, a second-year.” 

“And I’m Iguchi, also a second-year,” the boy chimes in. 

Needless to say, you already know who they are, too. Even though it was indirect on their part, they’re largely the reason why Itadori ends up at Jujutsu High, thanks to the fateful events of a certain night spent on school grounds. 

At this point in time, Itadori has yet to give them Sukuna’s finger. You’re not sure exactly when it’ll happen, but there will probably be some warning signs, like Fushiguro showing up on campus to look for it. 

Still, for obvious reasons, you feel like you shouldn’t get too involved with these two. The plot is going to proceed normally, as it should. You’re worried that something might go wrong with your interference. It’s probably best if you keep your distance, and—

“Would you like to join the Occult Research Club?!” 

“...” 

Yeah, you probably should’ve expected that. 

Itadori laughs. “Come on, guys. I didn’t bring her here to try and recruit her. I just wanted to introduce all three of you! I’m not sure if [Name]’s into that kind of stuff, anyways. It’s not really everyone’s thing.” 

“It’s true,” you nod. “I’m, uh, not that great with scary stuff…” 

“There’s nothing scary about the paranormal!” Sasaki insists. “It’s just interesting! Mysterious! Imagine what could be out there! Don’t you have a thirst for the unknown?” 

It’s precisely because I do know what’s out there that I’m scared…

“Sasaki, you’re coming on way too strong,” Iguchi chides. He turns to offer you a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry. We just can’t help but get excited when new people show up to our club room, but we know this kind of thing can’t be forced. You two are more than welcome to stay here during lunch.”

To some extent, you can’t help but feel a bit bad, because you know how passionate they are, and soon, Itadori won’t be around to keep them company anymore. He has no choice but to go to Jujutsu High. It’s his fate as the protagonist of this world. 

You know you can’t possibly be a substitute for someone as irreplaceable as Itadori, but once all the craziness with Sukuna’s finger passes, you’d be happy to be their friend, if they’ll have you.

“Ooh, your lunch looks really good, [Name],” Itadori remarks once you sit down and unpack your bento box.

“Thanks,” you smile. “I’ve been cooking for a while. My mom cooks too, but I just got used to making food for myself. The process helps me take my mind off things. It’s kind of therapeutic, in a way.” 

Seeing as being sucked into a fictional world is kind of—or rather, really fucking insane, it’s safe to say that you cooked up a storm when you got home yesterday. You packed up most of the leftovers for lunch today, so the food didn’t go to waste, but still. You ended up emptying a good portion of the fridge.

Itadori takes a big bite out of his onigiri, but he keeps eyeing your lunch all the while, so you chuckle and push the bento box closer to him.

“Go ahead,” you encourage. “You can have some if you want.” 

“Can I really?” he blinks, a few pieces of rice stuck to his cheek. It’s kind of ridiculous how adorable this guy is. You have the sudden urge to pull him into your arms and give him a big squeeze, but mercifully, your intrusive thoughts don’t win. 

“Of course. I packed plenty, so I can afford to share.”

“Oh—wait, but earlier, I was saying that I’d be the one to treat you! I can’t just eat your lunch! I still owe you big-time for what I did to you!” 

Itadori firmly shakes his head in refusal, then crosses his arms and makes an attempt at what you can only assume is meant to be a stern expression. But again, he’s so ridiculously cute that it’s a bit hard to take him seriously. 

Sasaki arches a brow. “What did you do to her?” 

“I, uh, may have hit her in the face with a soccer ball,” Itadori replies, shamefully shrinking in on himself.

He is literally baby. 

“Why would you do that?” Iguchi gapes. “Come to think of it, her nose is a little bruised…” 

“It obviously wasn’t on purpose!” Itadori protests. He turns towards you with an imploring expression. “[Name], I promise it wasn’t on purpose. I swear I would never do something like that!” 

You chuckle softly. “I know you wouldn’t. You definitely don’t seem like that kind of guy.”

Itadori lets out a sigh of relief and resumes munching on his onigiri. Meanwhile, Sasaki stares at you from across the table. 

“So… [Name],” she says. “You’re a first-year like Itadori, I’m assuming?” 

“Yep.” 

“I’ve never really seen you around.” 

“I’m a new student. I only just transferred in.” 

She pauses for a few moments, and you can see her eyes glistening with excitement. “So, that must mean you haven’t joined any clubs yet, right?” 

“Sasaki, not this again,” Iguchi sighs. 

“I’m telling you! Not everyone is drawn to the occult right away. It takes trial and error to figure out if it’s something you’re actually interested in. I’m not saying she has to join our club or anything. But while she’s here, she should at least dip her toes in, right?” 

Before Iguchi can protest on your behalf again, Sasaki grabs a large board from one of the bookshelves and turns towards you with a mischievous grin. 

“...you’ve heard of Kokkuri, right?” 

After school, Itadori stops by your classroom. 

“Hey, [Name],” he beams. “Thanks for hanging out with all of us during lunch. It was a lot of fun. Hopefully that game of Kokkuri didn’t freak you out too much.”

“I had fun too,” you nod. Truthfully, you’ve never really been fazed by this kind of stuff. Horror movies and the like don’t often get much of a reaction out of you. You never bought into ghosts or vengeful spirits. Well, not in the real world at least.

Unfortunately, in this world, there’s plenty of freaky shit to go around. 

“It means a lot to those guys,” Itadori says, a tinge of sadness to his smile. “We’re the only people in the school that seem to have an interest in the occult. I signed up for it because I thought it’d be fun, but we just barely meet the three-member minimum. Thanks for going along with it to make them happy, even if it’s not really your kind of thing.” 

“There’s no need to thank me. I know I said I wasn’t crazy about scary stuff, but I actually ended up having a good time. I’m glad you invited me to hang out with you guys,” you smile. 

Itadori returns your smile with one of his own—seriously, he’s almost always smiling, but you certainly don’t mind—and before you realize it, a phone has been placed into your hand. 

You blink. “What’s this?” 

“My phone,” Itadori replies, still smiling.

“Um, I mean, I know that, but why’d you give it to me?” 

“So you can give me your number. That way it’ll be easier for us to stay in touch!” He pauses, just for a moment, to frown. “Oh, but I guess I should’ve asked if you were okay with it first. I got a little ahead of myself. Would it be cool if we exchanged numbers?” 

Abso-fucking-lutely! 

By some miracle, you manage to reign in your excitement, and instead of hardcore fangirling and squealing out at the top of your lungs, you just nod. 

“Sure thing,” you say, trying to play it cool. Still, despite your best efforts to act indifferent, your fingers are trembling as you pull out your own phone and refer to the number you have saved in a notes app (because you definitely haven’t memorized it within less than a day of being here). Once you’re finished inputting your number, you pass your phone over to Itadori so he can do the same.

And just like that, you have a new contact saved. Itadori Yuji. He even added a little smiley-face at the end of his name. God, he’s so fucking cute. 

“Sweet!” Itadori grins. “Thanks, [Name]. I’ll be sure to text you lots! Sorry I can’t really stick around much longer. I just wanted to stop by real quick before I left to go visit my gramps at the hospital.” 

Right. His grandfather. A point deep in your stomach throbs uncomfortably, and you’re hit by a sudden wave of guilt. It feels awful to know that his grandfather’s end is rapidly approaching. It feels awful to know that you can’t change it, or even warn him. All you can do is feign ignorance and hope that he enjoys these fleeting moments while they last. 

You muster up a smile. “I hope you have a nice day with your grandpa. Feel free to text me whenever.”

“Will do! See ya!” 

Itadori waves you off, every bit as cheerful as always. Yet another thing that causes you immense guilt is the knowledge that his happy days won’t last forever. Soon, he’ll be thrown into a dark, sinister world that teems with death. A world that, in your opinion, is far too harsh for such a gentle soul. 

Unfortunately, there’s nothing you can do about that. Fate will run its course, and you must simply stand by and let it happen. 

Despite the nice day you had, your spirits are admittedly a bit low as you trudge home, having to consult Oogle Maps in order to find your way around. After being injured yesterday, the nurse called your parents to inform them of what had happened, and your mom came by to pick you up. This is technically your first time finding your way home by yourself. It’s not just a new school you need time getting used to, but a new home, a new city, a new world… all of it is bound to get a little overwhelming at times.

You wish you could say you’re completely aware of your surroundings, but that’s far from the truth. Every so often, you have to stop and squint towards the street signs to make sure you’re heading the right way. Jujutsu Kaisen is set in a fictional world, of course, but it’s a world modeled off the real world, and there’s plenty of similarities. This version of Japan is every bit as busy as the real one, for instance. Which is why you keep getting swept up in the crowds and losing your sense of direction.

Still, it’s not rocket science. You can mostly figure out where you’re going. Oogle Maps is idiot-proof, after all. Well, sort of. 

But the fact remains that you’ve never wandered these streets before, and naturally, you’re as disoriented as anyone would be in a foreign place. Hence why you don’t notice him until it’s late. 

A man with long, black hair, who’s staring right at you. 

You get jerked around by the crowd of people hurrying home during rush-hour, enough that you end up tripping onto the sidewalk and falling onto your knees. Your socks only reach up to your calves, so unfortunately, your knees get scraped open and start bleeding. 

Man. Only two days into this isekai thing, and you just can’t seem to stop getting hurt. 

“...are you alright?” 

Some guy is speaking to you. Presumably, one of the bystanders that saw you trip. Your cheeks flush, because falling in public is one of the most embarrassing things that can happen, but you instinctively reach out to grab his hand anyway. 

At the same time, your gaze pans upwards, and his eyes meet yours. 

Oh, balls. 

That’s the most appropriate response you can think of. After all, the man you’ve just had the misfortune of running into is hardly the type to be your friend. He’s not like Itadori. He’s not one of the good guys. 

He is Geto Suguru. Or rather, the curse user that’s pretending to be him. The real Geto is long dead. He was killed by his former best friend, Gojo. 

Those scars on his forehead tell you everything you need to know. The curse user’s name is Kenjaku, and he is merely using Geto’s body as a vessel. As things stand, you’re probably the only person who knows his true identity.

Regardless, the details don’t matter right now.

You’re just really fucking scared. 

Kenjaku pulls you to your feet, and unlike with Itadori, when you wished you could keep holding his hand forever, this time, you pull away viscerally fast, as if you’ve just been splashed with hot oil. 

Naturally, Kenjaku notices. 

“You didn’t answer my question, miss,” he chuckles, a cunning smile spreading across his lips. “I asked if you were alright. You took quite a tumble there. It must have hurt.” 

“I-I’m fine,” you reply, praying your fear isn’t absurdly obvious. You need to stay calm. There’s no reason why an ordinary person would be afraid of him, and if you let it show, he’ll know something’s up. 

“Your knees are bleeding,” Kenjaku points out. He leans closer to you, and you swear your heart nearly explodes. His dark, thin eyes are even more eerie from up close. “And you look like you just saw a ghost. I admit, I’m a bit worried.”

That’s bullshit if you’ve ever heard it, but nevertheless, you can’t allow your expression to crumble. There’s no reason for him to kill you out in public like this. Unlike cursed spirits, people can see him. He won’t risk drawing that kind of attention to himself. 

Probably. 

“I’m just… socially awkward,” you say, chuckling shyly for added effect. “And, uh, I’m not good at talking to handsome guys like you. I get nervous.” 

To be honest, what you just said isn’t even a total lie. Sadly. 

Kenjaku stares at you in silence for a few moments, then smiles yet again, his eyes crinkling at the corners. 

“I’m flattered by your words,” he muses. “Well, just be careful not to trip again. You got off with a small injury this time, but if you’re not careful, it could be a lot worse. And nobody likes to hurt, do they?” 

It’s hard to tell whether or not that was meant to be a thinly-veiled threat, but you have no intention of sticking around to find out. 

“Thank you for your help, mister. I appreciate it.” 

You hastily bow to him, then waste no time before speed-walking away. The further you get, the easier it is to breathe.

But since you’re too scared to look back over your shoulder, you don’t realize that Kenjaku is still staring at you with a contemplative look on his face. 

He hums to himself. “So much cursed energy. Is she a sorcerer? But something about her seems strange. I just can’t put my finger on it.” 

Well, no matter. He’ll leave you in peace for now. He can’t very well attack you in broad daylight, and he doesn’t even know if you pose a threat. There are far too many variables to consider. 

Besides, something tells him that this won’t be your last meeting. 

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[market-insider]

Biomarkers in Personalized Medicine: A Comprehensive Market Study

The global personalized medicine biomarkers market size is expected to reach USD 43.07 billion by 2030. The growth is attributed to the rising awareness, importance of predicting prognosis, and selection of dose. Moreover, personalized medicine biomarkers serve as an essential tool for the selection of patients and providing the right treatment to the right patient further propelling the demand for personalized medicine biomarkers.

Gain deeper insights on the market and receive your free copy with TOC now @: Personalized Medicine Biomarkers Market Report

Biomarkers are unique analytes that can be utilized to improve diagnosis forecast treatment outcomes and direct treatment decisions. They are crucial to personalized medicine. The increased usage of biomarkers to enhance patient outcomes is popular in clinical trials, and its use in clinical practice is expanding quickly. The development of personalized medicines using biomarkers is expected to create effective and safe therapies for every patient. This is a major relief for patients at advanced stages of chronic diseases like cancer, which further drives the market growth. For instance, in August 2022, VENTANA MMR RxDx Panel, an FDA approved first IHC-based assay used for the identification of patients with advanced cancer that is Pembrolizumab treatment eligible.

Early detection/screening biomarkers predict the outcome of disease in patient population prior to therapy. It can also help enrich clinical trials by helping choose patients more likely to respond to treatment. For instance, Oncotype Dx is a diagnostic test developed by Genomic Health, Inc. This test examines 21 genes and helps predict the likelihood of reoccurrence of breast cancer in a patient after initial treatment. In April 2022, updated ASCO guidelines recommended the usage of the Oncotype DX test for breast cancer patients at early stages to guide treatment decisions.

Moreover, biomarkers are used for their predictive and prognostic utility that helps predict the occurrence of a health condition. For instance, the prostate-specific antigen is used to predict the survival of patients with prostate cancer. CRP is used to predict disease-free survival in breast cancer and as a risk factor in cardiovascular disorders. Serum LDH helps predict survival in case of metastatic brain tumors. Similarly, CA125 helps predict metastatic diseases in patients with uterine carcinoma.

Furthermore, key players operating in the personalized medicine biomarkers industry are focusing on expanding and launching products that can be used for a wide range of applications. For instance, in October 2021, Agilent Technologies Inc. received FDA approval for Agilent Ki-67 IHC MIB-1 pharmDx (Dako Omnis), for the identification of patients with a high risk of breast cancer recurrence.

[brittle-doughie]

Brittle’s Cookies

I’m essentially reposting the OC Cookies post since it’s pretty old nowadays and I wanted to bring it closer to today without reposts making it look funny.

Any Cookies featured that aren’t in the canon that appear prominently will be labeled as an OC and the post will be tagged as such. (#brittle’s cookies)

Crowned Cupcake Cookie (Princess)

First Appearance: Forced Connections

Character Inspiration: Sweetheart (Omori)

Crowned Cupcake Cookie. A deranged princess that was planned to be married to you in an arranged setup by the matriarch of your family.

All she has on her mind is her beloved Y/N Cookie. Any and all threats to her plans of having their hand are swiftly and brutally dealt with.

Salsa Cookie (Commander)

First Appearance: A Forced Hand

Character Inspiration: Caramel Arrow Cookie/Saber (Fate)

The cookie that can always be counted on to lead the Cookie Kingdom forces into battle, Salsa Cookie leads the front with her trusted Tomato Blade.

She sees her Majesty’s word as absolute and will not tolerate any squandering on her watch. No matter how many pieces she’s in, she’ll fight for her King/Queen and for the Cookie Kingdom until she’s reduced to bits!

Dumpling Cookie (Royal Advisor)

First Appearance: Star of the Industry

Character Inspiration: Nastasia (Super Paper Mario)

If you ever need a cookie to handle all of the royal advising or secretary work overall, Dumpling Cookie is more than happy to step in for you.

This stoic and professional Cookie is skilled in handling kingdom politics and making sure you're at the top of the game in the field.

Cherry Cream Cookie (Assassin)

First Appearance: NTA

Every kingdom needs their assortment of sneaky cookies to handle any..problems that come your way. Cherry Cream Cookie is the one that you can count on to get a cookie silenced.

You’re not having her assassinate any regular cookie, you weren’t that cruel. Instead, she’s tasked with eliminating the worst, so that the cookies around them are all for the better.

Bitter Candy Cookie (Medic)

First Appearance: NTA

Cookies will inevitably get hurt around the kingdom, which is where Bitter Candy Cookie comes into the fray. While her methods do help with any aliments, her medicine is exactly like her namesake. Totally bitter.

It starts to make you wonder if it was worth getting yourself injured just to have to experience the sour cures that Bitter Candy Cookie will give you. She can have pleasant conversation with you while you’re reeling form the effects though!

Rose Lotus Cookie (Healer)

First Appearance: NTA

Rose Lotus Cookie is different from Bitter Candy Cookie. Whereas Bitter heals you from any health-related sickness, Rose Lotus works towards healing your very dough with her therapeutic massages and techniques.

When you come in, it always makes her day. It’s not often that the ruler of the kingdom comes to her for healing and she aims to make sure you leave her fully replenished and free of stiff dough!

CANNIBAL RUN: CAKE SHOP AU

Demoncake Kitsune Cookie (Shop Worker/Ingredient Retriever)

First Appearance: Bake It Till You Make It: Renovation

A remarkably tall kitsune cookie that works alongside Redcap Mushroom in the cake shop for Y/N Cookie. She never utters a word, moving along the floor as if she were floating, all the while with that smile on her face.

During the night, she’s in charge of gathering ingredients that are frequent patrons to the cake shop as well as cookies that gifted Y/N Cookie “desserts”. She knows precisely where to strike a cookie body with her tails to extract ingredients.

Redcap Mushroom Cookie (Shop Worker/Dessert Brainstormer)

First Appearance: Bake It Till You Make It: Renovation

Redcap Mushroom Cookie is a little red around the dough, but it’s a necessity to keep her mushroom’s red color. She’ll be seen here and there around the cake shop, but will mostly be situated in the back, coming up with dessert ideas that could end up being a success.

Redcap Mushroom takes grand pleasure in experimenting and tasting the “desserts” that Y/N Cookie gets sent their way. Her favorite tool is the doughsaw, cutting into portions to get to the particularly relishing parts of the dessert…

Chrysanthemum Cookie (???)

[dioslesbianwife]

Here are my headcannons for Jojo villain house and how I think they’d each approach chores

Dio

Refuses to do chores outright. He sees himself as above such menial labor and will either try to manipulate someone else into doing them or make excuses.

If he has to clean, expect a dramatic show of irritation. He’ll use The World to do everything inhumanly fast, pausing time and leaving the room spotless but making sure everyone knows how beneath him the task was.

Biggest offender: Leaving blood filled wine glasses around the house when he forgets about them.

Kars

Insists on having things done “the right way” and will redo someone’s work if it’s not up to his impossibly high standards.

Enjoys organizing. He might spend hours rearranging bookshelves, ensuring they’re sorted by theme, era, and importance to human evolution.

He delegates tasks to others but criticizes their technique endlessly.

Biggest offender: Lecturing everyone about how primitive humans are and how they’ve “desecrated” the art of maintaining a clean space.

Yoshikage Kira

The only one who genuinely enjoys chores- as long as it’s quiet. He finds cleaning therapeutic and uses it as an excuse to stay away from the others.

His favorite chore is folding laundry, particularly because it lets him admire the way hands move as they grab onto fabric, bend, and fold.. He folds everything with military precision.

He despises dirty dishes and will passive aggressively complain about anyone leaving them in the sink.

Biggest offender: The ungodly amount of nail clippings he produces.

Diavolo

Doesn’t do chores, period. He considers them a waste of time and relies on Doppio to handle everything. If questioned, he’ll walk away.

He gets visibly annoyed when the house isn’t clean but refuses to do anything about it himself. If someone confronts him, he’ll use King Crimson to skip the argument entirely.

Biggest offender: Leaving half empty coffee cups everywhere.

Doppio

He takes on messes left by Diavoll without complaint. He tries to stay cheerful, but even he gets overwhelmed when Diavolo’s mess becomes too much. Occasionally, he’ll mutter to himself about how unhelpful the others are.

Enjoys vacuuming because of its repetitive and calming nature, aslo it drowns out the chaos of the house.

Biggest offender: Picking up random items to make his phone calls and leaving them out of place.

Enrico Pucci

Insists on assigning everyone their tasks at the start of the week, using philosophical arguments to convince them that chores and daily routines are part of some higher plan.

He’s efficient but doesn’t tolerate laziness, constantly nagging the less helpful men to pull their weight.

Pucci has a habit of singing hymns while sweeping or mopping the floor, which unnerves everyone.

Biggest offender: Rearranging everyone’s personal belongings to organize the house according to “the Lord’s” standards.

Funny Valentine

Treats chores as a matter of patriotic pride. He gives long winded speeches about how a clean home reflects the strength of the household.

He has a habit of delegating tasks and overseeing them rather than just doing them himself. He’ll help if absolutely necessary but only with "important" jobs like cooking or maintaining the garden.

Obsessively cleans anything that might tarnish his image, like the front porch or living room. He makes sure guests (if they ever get any) think the house is always immaculate.

Biggest offender: He sometimes makes a mess intentionally to test others' "dedication to the cause."

Chore Dynamics in the House

Dio and Kars constantly fighting over who’s more above doing chores.

Pucci trying to convince Dio into participating, only for Dio to scoff and vanish dramatically.

Kira scolding Diavolo for leaving things dirty while Doppio tries to mediate.

Best team: Doppio and Kira. They’re the only ones who actually get things done without complaining.

Worst team: Dio and Diavolo. They’ll spend hours arguing about something and never lift a finger.

Pucci and Kira end up supervising everything like a pair of exasperated parents, while Valentine alternates between helping and giving motivational speeches no one asked for.

[syoddeye]

hmmm therapeutic and fluffy waxplay with johnny.

you text johnny a single emoji: 🕯️. the shorthand carries the weight of your day, the tightness in your chest, and the fact you are one song away from losing it in the car. he doesn't reply. he doesn't need to. he knows the drill.

he moves through your apartment with a quiet, buzzing urgency, the same precision he'd use to sweep a floor in the field.

he queues your favorite playlist first. nudges the coffee table against the wall. lays out a blanket and pillow on the floor. he fetches your basket and peels off his shirt, already humming with anticipation as he stretches on the floor.

when you get home, it takes everything to step through the door. you keep your eyes down, unwilling to look at him yet. the stress of your day is eating you alive, and the last thing you want is to do is cry.

johnny understands this, though it's the worst, most difficult part for him—to let you pass untouched, retreating into the bedroom to change into comfortable clothes and take a moment for yourself.

while you prepare, he lies back on the blanket. he always chooses the side—tonight, he's on his back. he wants to watch you, assess, and work out everything going on in that head of yours. he stares at the ceiling, waiting, steadying himself.

when you reemerge, you drop to your knees beside him and light the tealight. you cover it with the holder, lay the spoon in its cradle to warm, and choose wax colors with care. he holds up five fingers: that's your limit for the evening. it's generous, but he can take the heat. literally.

months ago, this would've been unthinkable to him—shaving a patch of chest hair, lying there, and letting wax drip over his skin. but he always said he'd try anything once. and now, here he is, because this is your ritual, something built on trust and quiet experimentation.

the pain sharpens him and it makes him alive in a way that's safe. controlled. he's learned to crave it, but mostly, he's grown to crave the change in you. the way your focus softens as the wax falls, the careful way you press the stamps without letting them sear. never repeating the same one twice, just in case.

when you finish, he's grinning up at you despite the sweat matting his hair and the stinging bites on his chest. there's something wolfish in the way his grin matches the peace on your face—the drop in your shoulders, the relaxation of your jaw.

you gently pry the stamps free, balancing them on your thumb one by one to show him: coins of glittery, gradient wax embossed with tiny shapes. flowers, animals, moons, and suns.

by the time you're done, he's pitching a tent in his sweats, and he knows you'll both get to that, but for now, he lets you stroke your fingers over his pinkened skin. you're home. you're lighter. that's all that matters.

[pretzel-box]

Tags: Established Relationship, Slight Fluff, Domestic Life Style, Hallucinations, Lucid Dreaming, Paranoia and Angst. Also a tiny bit of violence.

Words: 2,6k

The smell of freshly prepared pancakes wafted through the house, mingling with the divine aroma of coffee and blueberry muffins. It was breakfast time—the most important meal of the day, essential for keeping the mind sharp and the body energized.

This was one of the rare occasions Sebastian experienced such a meal, seated at a fine mahogany table set with golden cutlery and a plate of his own. He squeezed himself into the cramped living space, just large enough to fit him halfway comfortably, though his tail still extended into the living room. The golden utensils felt weightless in his hand, the fork seeming almost comically small as he picked it up. He paused, glancing up.

The clock with its silvery frame, hanging on the wall, ticked softly, showing 11:11 AM. A bit late for breakfast, Sebastian thought.

Then you stepped into the kitchen, wearing a comfortable ocean-blue apron with a bird pattern on the front. You held a small kitchen knife between your fingers, ready to slice the fresh vegetables you must have just picked up.

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” you hummed, your voice so sweet it almost rivaled the sugar-coated food on the table.

He could swear, his heart just skipped a beat. It was followed by a kiss on his neck, right between his shoulder.

It only took three things: breakfast, the small comforts scattered around the room, and you, to remind him that he was safe now—living in your home until you both could afford something bigger. Somehow, you two always managed.

The radio crackled to life, filling the space with soft background noise, just like you always preferred during breakfast.

And then, you ate together.

The morning sun streamed through the windows as you shared a quiet breakfast. Sebastian ate slowly, savoring each bite, though still not entirely used to the normalcy of it all. You chatted between bites, your laughter occasionally filling the air, though he remained mostly quiet, content just listening to your voice.

After breakfast, the day unfolded in its familiar routine. Sebastian took to the chores without needing to be asked. He collected the dishes and brought them to the sink, the sound of running water filling the kitchen as he carefully scrubbed each plate and cup. His hands moved methodically, enjoying the repetition of the task. There was something satisfying about watching the bubbles form and then disappear, the dishes gleaming clean beneath his fingers.

Once the dishes were done, he moved to sweep and mop the floor, his tail brushing softly against the corners of the room as he worked. It was something he excelled at—cleaning. Each stroke of the mop was deliberate, leaving the floor spotless and gleaming under the light. He took his time, making sure no spot was missed. The rhythm of his movements was almost therapeutic, grounding him in the routine you had created together.

While you kept him from venturing outside due to the risk of running into too many people, Sebastian didn’t mind. He found comfort in the quiet tasks around the house, feeling useful in a way that kept him from thinking too much. Watering the plants was next. He carried the small watering can through the house, carefully tending to each plant you had nurtured. He had learned their schedules—when each one needed a bit more or less water, and which ones preferred more sunlight. The leaves glistened with droplets by the time he finished, the greenery adding life to the small space.

Meanwhile, you busied yourself with tasks outside. From the window, he could see you trimming the bushes with a precision that matched his own care inside. The flowers you had planted were in full bloom, their vibrant colors adding a lively contrast to the house's neutral tones. He watched as you watered them, your apron fluttering lightly in the breeze, your movements as fluid as his own.

You hung laundry out to dry, each piece flapping gently in the wind. Occasionally, you'd glance back toward the window, offering him a soft smile, which he always returned with a quiet nod. He knew you handled the outside tasks because it was easier that way, avoiding the complications of him being seen. And though he longed to be outside with you, to feel the sun on his skin, he understood. It was safer this way, and he was grateful for the life you had created together, even if it was within the confines of your small home.

By the time you returned from shopping, arms full of groceries, Sebastian had already finished his tasks for the day. The house was spotless, the plants were watered, and everything felt in order. You gave him a playful look, shaking your head as he reached out to help with the bags.

“I’ve got it,” you said with a grin, though he still managed to take a few from your hands. Together, you put away the groceries, slipping back into the easy rhythm you had both grown accustomed to, a dance of quiet understanding.

Though your space was small, and the outside world seemed just out of reach, there was a sense of peace here. You two managed. You always did.

Then you two would sleep, only to wake up for the next day.

Sebastian rubbed his eyes, still groggy, but the enticing smell of fresh pancakes, his favorite blend of coffee, and blueberry muffins quickly pulled him from sleep. A smile crept onto his face as he peeked into the kitchen, his heart light at the sight of the familiar setup. Though you weren’t in sight yet, his attention was drawn to his seat at the table, where golden cutlery and his own plate waited for him. The clock on the wall ticked softly, showing 11:11, the rhythmic sound almost lulling him into a daydream.

Just then, you appeared, breaking the spell. You walked into the kitchen with a soft smile, wearing that blue apron with little birds, carrying a basket full of fresh fruits. The sight of you always made him feel at home, a reminder of the routine you'd built together. Breakfast was the most important meal of the day, you always said, and adding healthy fruits made it all the better.

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” you greeted sweetly, your voice as warm as the smell of pancakes in the air. Then his kiss followed, placed on his skin between the neck and the shoulder. After that, you moved with practiced ease, grabbing a kitchen knife and quickly slicing the fruits into neat pieces, your hands steady as you filled a bowl with the colorful mixture.

You placed the bowl in front of Sebastian, the freshly cut fruit adding to the already enticing spread on the table. He mumbled a quiet thank you, still a little sleepy but content. As you turned to flick on the radio, the soft hum of music filled the room, adding that comforting background noise you always preferred during meals.

After breakfast, the day moved into its usual rhythm. Sebastian quietly took to his chores, starting with the dishes. As he reached for the sponge, he noticed the water was cold, the warmth from earlier long gone. He frowned slightly but didn’t complain, plunging his hands into the chilly water, the suds forming weakly as he scrubbed each plate. His fingers worked with precision, despite the cold bite of the water, and the familiar routine grounded him.

Once the dishes were neatly stacked to dry, he moved to the floors. There were wet spots scattered around the house, remnants of water splashes and humidity. He picked up the mop and began moving it across the floor, the soft swish of the mop head the only sound breaking the quiet. The floor seemed more slippery today, perhaps from the condensation that clung to the windows or the moisture that had snuck in overnight. Sebastian worked with steady focus, making sure each corner was spotless, soaking up every last drop of water before it could cause any accidents.

As he mopped away the dampness, he glanced out the window, catching a glimpse of you outside, tending to the garden. The sound of the radio played faintly in the background, still giving the house that soft, comforting hum. You were hanging laundry now, the colorful clothes flapping gently in the breeze. You looked peaceful, and even from inside, Sebastian couldn’t help but smile at the sight.

Once the floor was dry and gleaming, Sebastian set the mop aside. He wiped his hands on a nearby towel, satisfied with the way the house was starting to feel in order again. It wasn’t glamorous work, but it was something he could do to help. He couldn’t go outside like you did—too many people, too many risks—but here, within these four walls, he could contribute. And that was enough for now.

The day had slipped by quickly, leaving Sebastian to drift into sleep beside you, only to be gently pulled from his dreams the next morning by the familiar scent of freshly prepared pancakes and coffee. And then, that unmistakable divine aroma of blueberry muffins. It never failed to get him out of bed.

In an instant, he found himself moving toward the kitchen, eyes lighting up as he admired the spread of food on the table. Right there, next to his plate, the golden cutlery gleamed in the soft morning light. Breakfast was easily one of his favorite parts of the day—not just for the food, but for the way it filled him with energy and set the tone for the rest of the day. More than anything, it was because he got to share that peaceful moment with you.

The clock on the wall showed 11:11, ticking softly in the background. The rhythmic sound was almost hypnotic, but before he could fall into another daydream, you entered the room. You wore your usual blue apron with the birds, a familiar sight that always brought a sense of comfort. This time, you held a basket full of fresh meat, setting it down near the kitchen knife.

"Good morning, sleepyhead," you greeted with a soft smile, leaning in just enough for your lips to brush against his skin. It was the kind of gentle affection that made his mornings brighter. "I picked up some meat for lunch—it was on sale."

Before sitting down, you walked over and turned on the radio, filling the room with a soothing background melody. With the quiet music accompanying your soft conversation, the two of you sat down to eat. You shared small talk, laughter filling the space as naturally as the morning sunlight.

When breakfast ended, it was time to tackle the day’s tasks once again, but those moments spent together over the meal made everything else feel lighter, even the inevitable chores that followed.

After breakfast, Sebastian moved to the kitchen to start his usual chores. The house was quiet except for the low hum of the radio in the background. He turned on the faucet to wash the dishes, expecting the familiar warmth, but the water was cold again, colder than it should be. His fingers tingled as he scrubbed the plates, the icy water making the task feel more tedious than usual. He couldn’t shake the growing sense of unease, but he pushed it aside, focusing on the rhythm of cleaning.

Once the dishes were done, he grabbed the mop and made his way around the house. His eyes caught something unusual—dark red liquid pooled in scattered patches across the floor, smeared slightly as though it had been dragged by something. His heart skipped a beat, but he told himself it was probably nothing. Maybe it was just juice, or some spilled wine from the night before, though neither of you had drunk anything like that recently.

He moved quickly, mopping away the dark stains, but the uneasy feeling clung to him, growing heavier with each stroke of the mop. The house felt darker than usual. The curtains were all drawn, casting deep shadows across the room. He hesitated for a moment before stepping toward the nearest window. The thick fabric of the curtains felt unnaturally heavy as he pulled them open.

Instead of the familiar view of the garden outside, Sebastian was met with a scene that made his blood run cold. On the other side of the glass was a dimly lit hall, stretching far into the distance, filled with looming submarines and figures in hazmat suits. The people moved methodically, their faces obscured by the opaque visors of their suits. They didn’t seem to notice him, but the sight alone was enough to make his heart race.

For a moment, Sebastian stood frozen, his breath catching in his throat. This wasn’t right. This wasn’t his home. Panic welled up inside him, and without thinking, he quickly let go of the curtains, letting them fall back into place. He turned around, his heart pounding in his chest.

“Good morning, sleepyhead.”

Sebastian’s head shot up, startled. His gaze locked onto you standing at the entrance to the kitchen. You were wearing that familiar blue apron, but something was wrong. The little birds that used to adorn it were gone, replaced by the stark, cold logo of Urbanshade sitting squarely on your chest. In your hand, you wielded a kitchen knife, casually slicing through a lump of white flesh.

“Breakfast is ready, and you're just standing there... Still spooked by a nightmare?” you asked, your tone sweet but unnervingly calm.

His heart pounded in his chest as he moved closer to you, his feet almost betraying him, as if they were drawn forward by some invisible force. You gently pulled him into the kitchen, guiding him to his usual seat. The cutlery was silver this time, not gold like it had been before, but it still rested beside his plate, polished and perfect. The table was covered in food that smelled familiar and warm—pancakes, coffee, blueberry muffins—but the air felt off.

You sat down across from him after turning on the radio, filling the silence with faint static. His eyes flicked to the clock. 11:11. A bit late for breakfast, isn't it?

He reached for a muffin, the warmth of the room doing little to calm the eerie chill that crept up his spine. Lifting it to his mouth, he took a bite, expecting the comforting taste of blueberries. Instead, his mouth filled with something cold, tasteless, and wrong. The texture wasn’t soft or sweet, but rubbery.

He glanced down in horror. The muffin was gone. In its place was the same lump of white flesh you had been cutting earlier. Panic surged through him, and he gagged, dropping it instantly. Without thinking, he jumped up, rushing to the sink, bile rising in his throat.

“Not tasty?” Your voice was right behind him now, soft and teasing. “I baked them with love. Or maybe you're just upset I haven’t given you your good morning kiss?”

His hands gripped the edge of the sink as he fought to steady his breathing. He could hear your footsteps, soft but deliberate. Before he could react, you were behind him, leaning in. Your fingers slid through his hair, your touch cold, freezing even. Your lips brushed against the back of his neck, sending a shiver through his entire body.

Then, without warning, you sank your teeth into his flesh.

Sebastian jolted awake, his body trembling. He wasn’t in the kitchen anymore. He was lying on a bed of wet, glowing moss, his breath ragged as he blinked, trying to get his bearings. The familiar, sterile walls of that cursed underwater facility surrounded him. His hand instinctively went to his neck, feeling the tender, raw spot where the teeth had sunk in, the memory of the pain still fresh.

In the distance, he heard footsteps—a wall dweller, scurrying away from him, the sound echoing through the halls. He sat up, the realization sinking in. Had that thing really taken a bite out of him?

Sebastian took a mental note. Staying in the moss for too long wasn’t healthy.