#jun writes

Harlequin:

Thinks you're flirting with him.

“Ah~ Kitten, are you that desperate for me to touch you?”

Oh, you're being serious? Ok then.

Has no fucking clue what he’s doing.

Kind of feels like he's just kneading your body like a cat, very aggressively...

You have to stop him multiple times because he is massaging too roughly.

Eventually, you stop him and show him on his own back what you need done (This takes an hour).

He gets it (Eventually).

Tries multiple times to get his tentacles involved (You always swat them away).

Either gets bored or super touchy, and the massage ends at 30 min max.

Will go longer if you need a massage due to pain, but any longer than an hour and his hands cramp up.

He winds up being the one to constantly ask for massages now.

Will only do a ‘tit for tat’ massage session. You do his back, and then he’ll do yours.

Happens every other week for you both now.

4/10 Stars 10/10 Hearts - Harlequin <3

Ticket Taker:

Biggest head-canon for him is that he’s an absolute GOD at massages. So good that they are their own currency in the circus. Well, just for the troupe that is.

Like he gives out legitimate laminated vouchers for them, which everyone treats like gold. They barter with them all the time. They have rules and everything. How you got one? Well…

“Where did you get that? Who gave that to you?”

Oh, Harlequin…

Does not want to know what you had to do to get that voucher.

Rules are rules, so he clears a few hours for you the next day.

There is a literal massage table in his tent when you arrive.

There are lit candles/incense and soft music playing.

He offers you headphones as well incase you prefer them.

You are stripped and placed on the table on your stomach.

Within minutes, you are a puddle of goo.

This man’s hands are a form of magic, and he knows how to use the fuck out of them.

His claws are much shorter than the rest of the troupes so he is not wearing gloves.

Can put the strength into it too, so if you need a muscle kink worked out? Done.

Uses oils and lotions galore, and they're always nice and warm when applied.

Massages last at MINIMUM of 3-4 hours (that’s why these need to be planned ahead of time.

Man is always giving full body massages as they are his specialty.

You leave that tent so light-headed and fuzzy you barely remember your own name.

You now know why the "Bilheteiro Back Rub" is so sought after.

You immediately start forming a plan on how to get another voucher.

10/10 Stars

Doctor:

“Ah! Sweetie, of course! Are you experiencing any specific aches and pains, or is this for… pleasure?”

More than willing to provide as it’s his duty as your doctor (and mate).

Very clinical, so don’t expect candles or oils.

Does use a muscle-relaxing lotion and numbing cream, though (Your gunna need it, trust me)

Deep tissue style massages are his specialty, but switches to a more gentle style when asked.

Very intense 3-hour massages that feels good in the moment.

However, after every massage, you will be very, very sore (Strong man with very strong hands)

4 days of recovery and no heavy lifting, no excess energy use. (Doctor’s orders)

Don’t worry, Doctor is actively pampering you while you recover.

After the recovery period, though? You feel fantastic! Like a whole new person.

Looser and more nimble than before.

Kinda freaky when you think about it.

You only get these from him once a month due to the intensity.

8/10 Stars

Jester:

It depends entirely on how close you are to him.

Just met?

“Absolutely not” will hit you with a sneer and just leave the conversation.

“Never bring this up again”

Kinda icked out by the thought tbh.

Acquaintances?

Still a no, but not as aggressive.

“I’m sure Pierrot would be more than willing to provide aid, as would the Doctor.”

Stern redirection, but not rude.

Friendly/Close?

Will agree but won’t do it himself (It’s a touch thing with him).

Sends you away with a fool who provides a pretty decent massage.

Together/Mates?

Only time he ever agrees and does it himself (Actually insists on being the only one who can touch you).

Sets aside time from his schedule to do it (might even leave in the middle of a task to help)

Much like Ticket Taker, his massages are in-depth and fantastic at getting kinks out.

Uses specialty oils/lotions he keeps just for you (He’ll deny it if you bring it up).

His massages are almost sensual in a way, but it usually is due to the nature of your relationship.

No gloves, but he keeps his claws trimmed for you.

In fact, prefers you both be fully nude for these massages (not in a sexual way but because of the closeness it provides).

These massages would be a daily occurrence if his schedule allowed for it.

He blocks out 2 hours every week, just for you.

Not optional though, it's mandatory.

You found yourself trapped in a business meeting with your boss, your heart racing. The words of your colleagues barely registered; short "yeah," "uhm," and "uh-huh"s was all you could muster. The relentless pounding in your chest begged for the meeting to end. Concentration was futile— how could it not be? The leader of this meeting had been harassing you discreetly for days, and to make matters worse, he was your boss, the company's CEO, manipulating his power to silence you about the reprehensible actions he had taken. He had the audacity to pretend like nothing had occurred.

You're sick of it all. You just wanted to escape this meeting and leave.

As the meeting concluded, you left the office swiftly, relieved that, at least today, your boss didn't summon you to his office for some sick plan he had concocted.

Shoes were hastily discarded at the entrance, and you rushed to reach your bedroom doorknob and slumped to the ground. Still clad in your suit and tie, you rubbed your temples, feeling the unsettling chill in your trembling hands. You rubbed your temple, hands shaking and feeling unnaturally cold. You were back in the comfort of your own home, but why was your heart still continued its erratic beats?

"Why, why," you muttered, a hoarse voice matching the tremors in your hands. "God.. not again. Fuck, how do I-" Eyes closed, you nibbled on your lower lip, inhaling and exhaling in an attempt to regain composure. But it was all fruitless. The pounding heart, shaky hands, and inconsistent breathing intensified. You despised this feeling, this all-too-familiar sensation.

"This is not the first time it happened. Should be fine, right?" you told yourself that, "Right. I should be okay. Should be fine... just calm down." Again and again, like a mantra. Yet, the more you uttered these assurances, the more the dirty feeling seeped into your body. Being in your own skin felt repulsive, the intensity making you wish you could somehow shed it to escape the filth.

Alas, that's nothing but an impossible desire.

Thinking a shower might cleanse both the body and mind, you scrubbed vigorously until your skin turned red. Yet, facing your own naked reflection, the reminder of past violations intensified your self-loathing. The sight was so revolting that you almost wanted to shatter the mirror and shut your eyes forever.

With damp hair and a towel draped over your neck, you entered your bedroom, frantically searching your desk with trembling hands and knees. In a cabinet, you sought something sharp—anything would do. After a few seconds, you found it. A blade! The weight of the sharp object in your grasp should bring discomfort, a pang of recognition that what you're contemplating is wrong. However, in this desperate moment, the usual moral considerations fade into the background. Relief becomes your singular focus. Holding it tightly as if your life depended on it, you contemplated its use.

Your chest rose and fell as you brought the blade closer to your already uneven arm, littered with self-inflicted scars. "Just a little," you told yourself, the ritual all too familiar.

You wonder when this all would end. Why you? Why does this keeps happening to you, out of the many people in this world?

You wish you could just abandon this disgusting slab of flesh soon.

"BOO!" A voice echoed behind you, causing you to jump, the blade slipping from your grasp.

Nikolai, as always, appeared unannounced.

"Kolya!" you greeted, setting the blade aside awkwardly. "You're here." A forced chuckle escaped your lips as your eyes met Nikolai's mismatched ones. Once again, the silver-haired jester interrupted you, showing up right when you were on the brink. Attempting to maintain a smile to mask the panic, you faltered. Nikolai's grin widened, silently mocking your feeble attempt at composure.