#they are my moral support when i get tired

[bongopowder]

getting lucky! (higuruma)

⁺ . ✦ .　⁺ 　 . ✦ jujutsu kaisen (higuruma x reader) ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . ⁺

content (18+): nsfw, female reader, gambling, casinos, drinking, smoking

word count: 5.0k

a tune for you: a little less conversation (elvis presley)

The blaring lights, flickering at every machine, send a colorful wave of illumination shooting across the stained and patterned carpets. The sweet smell of smoke and crisp bills mingle in the air, filling your nostrils with something seemingly toxic, but also intoxicating. And the sounds, sounds which flood every inch of the space, echoing off the wallpaper plastered on every surface of the room. It was a concoction, a collaboration between the loud, drunken chatter of patrons, the occasional clattering of a machine, and the constant ringing of a buzzer, now simply a hum in your brain. Ding! Ding! Ding!

Some might call it sensational. But to you, the feeling was none other than that of suffocation. Overstimulation. Drowning.

You take another sip of your martini, the intensity of the gin doing nothing to repress the anarchy of the casino atmosphere.

“You seem… distracted?”

Blinking a few times to regain your consciousness, you turn to your friend, who sits beside you at the bar, watching you with an inquisitive gaze.

“Something on your mind?” She probes, her stare wandering out to the casino, to find whatever had captivated my attention. “Or maybe… someone?” Her lips tug up into a sheepish smirk, an almost teasing look.

“What… no,” you shake your head quickly, extinguishing any assumptions she might be making. “I was just, spacing out is all.”

She hums quietly in response, scanning the casino floor as if looking for something specific, her eyes narrowing predatorially. Once she spots whatever target she was searching for, she peers back to you, giving you a knowing look.

“What is it?” You roll your eyes, though not seriously annoyed by her antics.

“Him. You were totally staring at him, weren’t you? He’s perfectly your type,” she grins, flicking her head to gesture out to the casino.

You raise an eyebrow inquisitively, immediately forcing yourself to stare into the maze of machines and tables to find the prey of her little game.

“The one by the slot machines,” she clarifies. “You’ll know which one when you see him.”

Oh.

You hate it when she’s right.

He’s just there, peeking out from the end of the row of machines, sitting casually in a padded chair, eyes glued to the screen. The colors of the lights illuminate his face in a range of purples, and pinks, and whites; his hooked nose casts a small shadow as he turns his head, studying the game before him with tired eyes, just as you study him.

His suit – with the top few buttons haphazardly open and his tie undone – is consistent with his somewhat disheveled and fatigued expression. His black hair is gelled slightly back, slick and reflective, with a few loose strands falling in front of his forehead. Bringing his whiskey glass up, he places it on his temple, eyes dejected as the light on his face turns red. A loss.

“See? I was totally right!” Your friend exclaims smugly, watching as you ogle the man across the floor. You simply shake your head.

“I’m nowhere near drunk enough for that.”

“For what?”

“To approach him.”

“Oh, come onnnn…” her voice eggs you on. “I’ll be here for moral support. Finish your drink and go, before he leaves! He’s soooo your type, you can’t let him walk off!”

You groan, shaking your head again. Internally, you’re conflicted; you can’t help but know she’s right, and you’d be insane to avoid a man who looks like he’s been peeled straight from the front page of some “sexy business” magazine, but to approach him is… something else.

Your friend cheers as you down your martini in two large gulps, the burning sensation matching that of your mental turmoil.

“You’re gonna do it?” She exclaims in excitement. “Don’t worry about me, I’ll be here when you get back… or when you don’t come back.”

You roll your eyes at her wink, but you can’t repress your smile. Without wasting another second, you saunter over to the slot machines, taking a deep breath, hoping that by some miracle, those last few gulps of gin give you something good to say.

“So, any luck today?”

Fuck. That’s really all I could think of?

You mentally curse yourself, but your outward façade is unwavering, no thanks to your ever-lacking flirtation abilities. Leaning slightly against the side of the machine, you smile down at him warmly.

His eyes look slowly up to meet yours, his brows furrowing slightly in confusion at your presence. The screen flashes red again, a bright color which draws his attention back to the machine, his elbows never leaving the control panel. Burrowing his face in his hands, he grumbles softly.

“Does it look like it?”

Sitting back, he grabs his drink again, taking a swig with a sigh. His back presses against the chair, and he adjusts his hips, lifting them softly before he resettles with his legs pushed further apart.

You bite your lip, trying to remain composed as you watch him, thinking of something, anything, to keep the conversation going.

“Maybe I can change that.”

That was a good one…

You push off the machine, moving to sit on the armrest of his chair, careful to avoid the side with any potentially essential buttons. Your bare arm brushes slightly against his shirt, and you adjust your cocktail dress, pulling it comfortably over part of your legs.

“You’re too young,” the man replies, somewhat bluntly, but with no hint of annoyance, as he takes another sip of whiskey, his eyes glued to the machine.

“You don’t even know how old I am,” you quip quickly in return, hosting a somewhat sly smile. He can’t be that much older than me… right?

“I know you’re not old enough.”

“But don’t you want to win? I’ve been told I can be quite the lucky charm,” you lie, hoping it might give you a chance. Leaning forwards, you feed the machine a play with some cash.

He sighs, finally looking up at you through his eyelashes, the bags under his eyes becoming more prominent due to your proximity.

“Fine. It’s your money,” he cedes casually, pulling a pack of cigarettes from his pocket. He lights one, simultaneously pressing a button on the machine to spin the wheels. He takes a long drag, now completely captivated by the on-screen stimulation, the lights continuing to accentuate his sharp features as he exhales a cloud of gray smoke.

The first column slowly comes to a halt, landing on a lemon.

Okay…

And the second column... another lemon.

Your eyes widen in surprise, flickering over to his face to see how he’s reacting. Nothing.

The third wheel feels as though it takes ages to stop, continuing to spin even as you think it’s finishing.

And…

A lemon. It’s a lemon.

Your chest tightens, partly out of nervousness and somewhat in surprise. Turning to see the man again, you watch as his expression shifts and he leans forward in his chair.

Quickly, the machine spits out the winnings: ¥6000.

“Well… I guess you are lucky…” The man grumbles admittedly, sitting back again and taking another drag of the cigarette, seemly deep in thought. He gestures to the money on the control panel.

“It’s yours,” you reply, gesturing back. “Remember?”

“I don’t need it,” he sighs, rubbing his head.

“Then buy me a drink with it.”

He lets out a noise, somewhere between a scoff and a light chuckle, finally reaching forward to grab the money. Scanning it, he counts it quickly to make sure the amount is correct, simultaneously grabbing his whiskey again with the same hand that holds his cigarette between his index and middle fingers. He nods at the money, downing the last bit of whiskey before beginning to stand.

“Alright. I’ll buy you a drink with your own money, if you insist,” he replies casually, trying to appear indifferent. As he stands, however, you see him finally beginning to drink in your appearance, his eyes moving slowly over your body in an almost calculated manner.

The two of you approach the bar, a different one from where your friend stands. She shoots you a wink from across the room: your last source of good luck.

“Another one, please,” the man says as he sets his empty glass on the wood, leaning over the bar with his elbow planted. He glances at me, raising his eyebrows.

“Oh, and a martini… dry, please.”

The bartender nods, turning around to pour the drinks.

“I never did get your name?” His voice draws your attention back to those eyes, piercing yours with their dark gaze. You oblige, telling him your name.

“And yours?”

“Hiromi,” he says, taking another drag of the cigarette before extinguishing it on a nearby ashtray.

You hum and nod as he replies, watching as the bartender pours the vermouth into your martini glass. A moment of silence pervades the atmosphere, broken only by the rattling of cocktail shakers and murmuring of nearby patrons. Hiromi’s eyes remain fixed on another bartender and his whiskey, the spherical ice shifting in the glass as the alcohol is poured over top, the liquid almost twinkling under the lights.

He's not very talkative…

“So, what do you do for work?” You ask, leaning against the bar.

“Law,” he replies, his tired eyes not leaving his drink as it’s placed in front of him.

“Oh, that’s nice…” You smile, trying to save the dying conversation as your martini arrives. “So… are you here long or are you visiting from somewhere else?”

“Visiting, for business.” His eyes flicker to yours, for a moment, before shifting back to his drink.

Is he just not into me or something?

“You know,” you start, now deciding to duck out of the conversation, starting to back away from him slightly. “I think my friend is-”

“It’s a conference of sorts,” he interrupts, sipping his whiskey before turning towards you completely. “Quite boring, really. I’d rather hear about why you’re here.”

“Ah- me?” you perk up again at his interest, “I’m just on a trip with my friend, we’re in the city for a few nights, just to travel.” Man, this guy is bipolar…

“Are you staying here?”

“At the casino?” you ask, shaking your head. “No, just a hotel down the road. This place was a bit out of the budget I think.” Chuckling, you allow the alcohol to soothe your nerves slightly.

“Mmm…” he hums, finishing his whiskey in one swig and setting the glass down gently. “I have a room upstairs, got it for the chip discount,” he explains while tapping his casino card on the wood of the bar.

“Also,” he adds, “the liquor here is… mediocre, at best. I keep nicer whiskey up there, so I can go back for an occasional drink.”

You peer curiously into your martini glass, finding the gin pretty decent.

“So you agree?”

“I agree?”

“That the liquor isn’t great,” he concludes, with a nod.

“Oh, right… Yeah, it’s not the best…” You simply nod, convincingly agreeing with the sentiment, but he appears distracted again, already moving to light a new cigarette. He holds the box out to you, pushing one up with his thumb: a silent offering.

You nod, thanking him briefly before taking the cigarette.

Leaning closer, he places the cigarette in his mouth and removes a lighter from his pocket, placing the flame between you. You move closer to him, allowing your cigarette to touch the fire just as his does; the warmth and light from the dancing flames reflect in his eyes as he looks down at you. He pulls back slowly, eyes unwavering from yours as he blows smoke slowly from his mouth with an unreadable gaze.

“Why me?” His words are direct, but inquisitive, spoken as he takes another drag of the cigarette.

“Why you?”

“Why approach me?” he emphasizes the last word, raising his eyebrows as he looks down at you. Your face heats up at the bluntness of his inquiry, and you smile slightly.

“Not every question needs to be answered,” you reply coyly, gesturing to the drinks. “And clearly the universe is rewarding us for my choice.”

“Mmm… maybe so,” Hiromi nods, cracking the slightest of smiles. His gaze flickers around your face, as if studying your features, slowly and tantalizingly.

After the fleeting moment, his free hand reaches for his whiskey glass. The realization of its emptiness causes his face to twist into a soft frown, his eyes shifting down to the glass as he swirls the ice within it.

“Come on,” he sighs, pushing off the bar as he runs a hand through his gelled hair. “It’s time for another drink.”

You watch as he nods his head towards the elevators casually, a neutral expression still plastered on his features. He wants me to come to his room?

“I’m just gonna finish-”

“Leave it. I have nicer gin,” he interjects without turning back around, waving his hand dismissively before putting his cigarette to his lips.

Before you can reply, he’s already striding away, a slight eagerness to his pace. Shrugging, you take one last sip of the martini before quickly catching up to him, leaving the crystal glass on the bar top, alongside your half-finished cigarette.

The atmosphere of the elevator ride is indescribable; monotonous jazz plays roughly through the poor-quality speakers, the sound mixed only with the rattling of metal from the machine. Hiromi is silent, leaning back against the outdating wooden paneling, seemingly lost in thought as he continues to smoke.

Your heartrate picks up nervously, your mind haphazardly running through the scenarios to come. The man is an enigma.

Ding!

The elevator comes to a swift halt, pausing on the 22nd floor. Just as before, Hiromi wastes no time, stepping out and quickly treading down the long hallway towards his room.

Without a word, he swipes his card to unlock the door, holding it open for you and beckoning you inside the dark room. He places a hand delicately on the small of your back, guiding you through the doorway, sending a shiver down your spine.

The door shuts quietly behind you, leaving the two of you alone in the darkness. Your eyes fail to adjust quickly to the change in light, barely able to make out the silhouette of a large bed and small couch, lit only by the distant city lights outside the large, open windows. The sound of fabric sliding draws your attention behind you as Hiromi takes off his blazer, the cigarette between his lips. You somewhat clumsily fumble for a light switch somewhere on the wall, leaning forward and running a hand over the textured wallpaper.

You feel his large hand wrap around your wrist, pulling your hand away from the wall. Within a second, he reaches to your waist, immediately pushing you back against the wall, pinning you there with his body. He releases your wrist almost tenderly, seductively running his fingers up your arm before tucking one under your chin, tilting your head up.

“You didn’t really come in here just to drink, now did you?” His voice is low and rough against your ear as he leans in, his hand unwavering from your hip as he presses you further against the wall.

For the first time tonight, you feel nervous. It’s as if you can feel your heart pumping blood through your entire body, echoing in your brain. You open your mouth to speak, but the words seem to catch in your throat.

“Mmm… What ever happened to that boldness on the casino floor? Not so confident now?” Hiromi teases, his free hand moving up to move a piece of hair that had fallen in front of your face. His touch is almost gentle, a contrast to what you see when you look into his eyes.

“Well… I just...” You pause, trying to find my voice, though it cracks in my dry throat. You look up at him again, your eyes trying to focus on his own rather than his lips, which quirk into the slightest of smirks. “I- I didn’t… expect…”

“Spit it out.”

The words are demanding, but his tone is playful. He studies your face more, eyes wandering across your features like he did to the slot machine, perhaps more methodically now.

“I just didn’t think… it would be so… quick into it…” You manage to whisper, trying to contain your emotions.

“Quick?” He lets out a sultry chuckle, his hand sliding to the back of your neck. “Oh, trust me, nothing about tonight will be quick,” he mumbles, flicking the bud of his cigarette off into the darkness.

And with those last words, he pulls your face forwards, his lips crashing against yours in a needy, hungry kiss. You return the vigor, passionately tasting the lingering whiskey and smoke on his lips, your hands wandering up his chest, feeling over the buttons of his shirt.

You can feel him smirk against your mouth, his hands now roaming down your body in desperation, as if searching for the best place to settle. He tugs at your dress, bunching the fabric up your thighs until it collects around your hips.

The kiss continues in its hot, rough wake, your teeth occasionally crashing together in urgency, neither of you willing to pull back. Without another warning, he wedges one of his thighs between your legs, grinding against you and pushing you further into the wall.

The sudden friction isn’t lost on you, and you let out a soft noise, the sound swallowed by his mouth. This, however, only seems to fuel his enthusiasm, and he continues to push his thigh back and forth, slowly and tantalizingly grinding against you.

Your hips instinctively buckle into his motions, only driving him to move faster. His hands land on your sides, moving you into the movement himself as he separates from the kiss.

“You’re so desperate for me already…” Hiromi whispers, beginning to line kisses along your jawline. “But I want to hear you a little bit more.” His hand reaches up, gripping your hair in his hand and tugging your head back, giving him easier access to your neck.

Instantly, bites down softly on your skin, the sensation in time with the movement of his thigh. You stifle a moan, biting your lip and pushing your head further against the wall.

You feel his breath on your neck, cold on the area where his spit remains.

“That’s more like it, my dear. Keep those coming…” he breathes softly as he continues to suck at your neck, traveling down to your collarbone.

“You’re… gonna have to work… for it,” you reply, somewhat breathlessly, trying to control yourself as you tease.

He growls softly against your neck, pulling back to look you in the eyes.

“That sounds awfully like a challenge,” he smirks, pulling his thigh away from you. You feel the vacancy as your dress falls back down, an odd chill running through your spine.

“It’s just like gambling… try something and see if you get lucky,” you taunt, a smirk tugging at your lips.

“Lucky, you say?” He grins, leaning down towards your face again, his finger caressing your cheek with small, circular motions. “I think I’ve gotten pretty lucky already tonight…”

His lips just barely graze yours as he speaks, tempting you to move forward to close the distance.

“And I think you’re going to get even luckier.”

He chuckles, shaking his head in mock disapproval before grabbing your thighs from behind, hoisting you up into his arms so you’re straddling his hips. Responding instantly, you wrap your legs around him, his arousal becoming even more obvious between your legs as your hips press against his.

Noticing your eyes widen, he smirks softly, continuing to walk you towards the bed.

“You can handle it.”

The words leave his mouth quickly, and he gives you almost no time to process before he tosses you back onto the bed, his body immediately climbing on top of yours.

“You’re so beautiful, all spread out for me like this,” he whispers, a hint of need in his voice as he settles between your legs. “But I can think of a few ways you’d be even better…”

His hand trails up your slide, lightly grazing over your breasts and coming up to the back of your neck, settling on the zipper of your dress, laying delicately on your spine. Without waiting for confirmation, he tugs on the metal, and the sensation of the zipper teeth opening begins to spread down your back.

Even in the dim light, you can see his eyes widen as your dress gets tossed to the side. He stifles a noise arising from his throat, biting the inside of his cheek as his eyes flicker down.

“My eyes are up here…” You tease, cheeks heating up slightly.

He takes a moment to reply, his gaze still unsettled as he takes in your curves and exposed skin.

“But I think you’d much rather have me down here,” Hiromi eventually replies, his index finger trailing down your sternum, eventually stopping at your navel. The cold sensation of his finger causes your body to squirm, much to your distress.

He grins in satisfaction, finally moving his finger further down your body, hooking it around your underwear.

“Or how about here?” He tauntingly runs his finger along the edge of the lace.

His finger slips further into your underwear as he presses his body down onto yours, his mouth lingering near your ear.

“Remember… I want to hear you,” his whisper echoes in your head as his finger slides down between your folds. You press your head back into the pillow, the touch eliciting a soft, but loud breath to escape your parted lips.

“Fuck…” Hiromi chuckles gruffly into your ear. “You’re so wet for me already…” he whispers needily, letting out his own deep breath.

He eagerly slips his finger further down, sliding it deep inside of you. Your hands instinctively grip his back, pulling at his shirt as he moves in and out of you, continuing to plaster kisses to your neck.

Continuing to work his fingers, two now slipping inside, his thumb rubs circles along your clit in time with his kisses, working feverishly, almost in desperation as he pumps his fingers inside of you. His lips trail down your neck, moving across your clavicle and down to your breasts.

Your hands move to his hair, tangling into the strands and breaking through the hold of the gel. He smiles against your skin, his teeth lightly grazing you before he plants more kisses along your breast, kneading the other with his free hand. You arch into his touch, your body writhing against him as he continues his onslaught of pleasure.

After only a moment, he slowly pulls his hand back and sits up; you feel the emptiness, whimpering slightly and shivering, desperate for more. He grins, listening to your sounds of need as he brings his fingers to his mouth, licking them clean.

“You’ll get it soon…” he hums as if he can read your thoughts, beginning to unbutton the rest of his shirt, the fabric slowly slipping down his broad shoulders as you remove your own underwear. He swiftly throws the garment to the floor, leaving his chest bare, the dim city lights trickling in from the window and highlighting his softly toned body.

He keeps his black tie, shifting his legs further up your body and grabbing your arms aggressively, but still with a gentle touch.

“I don’t believe you’ll be needing these anymore,” he says, his voice husky as he begins wrapping the tie around your wrists, extending your hands above your head and tying them around the metal bar of the headboard with the fabric.

You watch, still twitching slightly from the earlier stimulation, your eyes moving from your hands and back to his eyes. His gaze darkens, moving away from the headboard and immediately moving his hands back down to your legs.

His fingers travel along the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, teasingly getting closer to your core, but stopping just before reaching your underwear. You groan in frustration, your eyes silently begging him to continue.

“I’m gonna need to hear a little more than that,” he says, a smirk tugging at his lips as he uses one hand to begin unbuckling his belt.

You purse your lips, gaze wandering down to his slacks as he quickly slips his leather belt from the loops.

“Please…” you murmur, your cheeks growing red in a slight embarrassment.

“Please what?” he teases softly, fingers now beginning to unzip his pants.

Your breath catches in your throat as he tugs his slacks from his hips, the fabric falling to his knees and bunching on the bed. He shifts out of them, leaving him in nothing but a pair of black boxers, his bulge now even clearer, hidden behind only a thin layer of fabric.

“I… I need you…” you choke out, eyes trying to tear away from his hips.

He smirks, climbing further onto you and placing a hand beside your head, using the other to tug at his boxers. He slips them off his hips, now leaving nothing to the imagination.

“Wanna be a bit more specific than that?” he whispers, leaning in close to your ear as he positions himself between your legs, which instinctively spread and wrap around his hips. He groans softly against your neck, using a hand to pull your hips flush to his as he pushes you down into the mattress.

“I- I need you inside of me… now… please,” you finally stutter, your lips only centimeters from his, your deep breathing synchronized in the silence of the room.

He exhales sharply, your words clearly having an affect on him as he pushes closer into you, his cock slowly trailing up and down your folds, now slick with your juices. Grinding softly into you, moaning in your ear, he lifts your legs further and positions himself over you.

“Tell me you’re ready for me,” he whispers, voice laced with need as he presses his forehead against yours.

“Please,” you nod desperately. “Please…”

He growls softly before crashing his mouth into yours, his lips working against yours passionately as he slides himself into you, keeping your hips pressed into the bed.

You swallow each other’s moans, the kiss growing deeper as he drives his hips faster and faster against yours. Stars dance across the sides of your vision as you take every inch of him, his thrusts pushing himself further inside of you, hitting all the right places.

Your hands tug at your restraints, pulling the fabric as every inch of your body tenses, filled with pure pleasure as the back of your head pushes deeper into the pillow.

“God, you’re… y-you’re so tight…” Hiromi stammers, using one hand to grab the headboard as he continues his onslaught, his hips moving rhythmically against yours.

A soft light flickers into the room from outside, the illumination heightening the shine of his skin, a think layer of sweat beginning to form as he continues to grunt and move against you. His hair falls in front of his face, the gel notwithstanding your activities.

His hand travels down to your legs, hoisting one over his shoulder effortlessly before continuing his pursuit, your body crunching together as your foot almost touches the headboard. The changed angle has him hitting new places, your body beginning to quiver from his measured strokes, beginning to speed up with urgency.

Your labored breathing is again disrupted by another kiss, one which is difficult for either of you to maintain, the sounds of pleasure continuing to fill the room.

His grip on your hip tightens, and it grows clear that he’s trying to hold back, his body taught with both pleasure and pressure. He’s teetering on the edge of release, his arms beside you shaking with the effort of holding back. He slowly shifts onto one hand, moving his other down your body, quickly finding your throbbing clit and massaging it with his thumb.

The newfound sensation sends you closer to the edge, your moans only growing louder as the frequency of slapping skin grows quicker.

“H-Hiromi.. I- I’m gonna-”

“I know…” he grunts, not stopping his rhythm. “Come for me, l-let go…”

His words bring you to your climax, the orgasm rippling though your body, caressing every limb as you gasp and shake against him, tightening around his cock.

The sounds alone are enough to push him over the edge too; his body tenses on top of yours, and he releases a low, guttural moan as he buries his face into your shoulder, his hips moving slower and slower to ride out the wave of pleasure.

Your breathing continues deeply, as if you’re desperate for air, starved for it even. His sweaty body continues to press against yours, and you feel the rise and fall of his chest on top of you as he processes his comedown.

“Y-you… you’re…” he chuckles softly as he struggles to get the words out, slowly bringing his head up to look at you with those familiar, tired eyes.

He scoffs again with a smile, shaking his head and moving to remove the tie from your wrists, gently undoing the tight knots keeping you in place. With your wrists released, you bring them to your chest, gently caressing the tender skin, worn down from the pulling and tugging.

“Mmm… I hope it didn’t hurt too bad,” Hiromi says as he settles beside you, relaxing and putting an arm around your shoulder, pulling you into his chest as you lay next to him.

“It’s alright…” you whisper breathlessly, placing one hand on his chest, feeling the slick sweat still clinging to his skin.

“You know what might help…?” he says, looking down with a slight grin.

“What?

“A drink.”

Thanks for reading! <3

[bunnymerchandise]

Douglas Tie Die Bunnies

[working-dreamer]

It’s wild how shipping culture has changed so drastically over time on the internet.

In the old days people shipped characters who either had only one line of dialogue with each other, never even met, or not even from the same piece of media. It was the wild west and sure some ships were uncomfortable but people had the mindset to just block the tag and stay away from ships they didn’t enjoy.

Nowadays? It’s more like people have to clarify that their ship isn’t canon compliant, character adjacent, and story irrelevant otherwise they get a flood of comments saying “but this character isn’t like this in canon” and some people legitimately get angry if you’re not following the canon.

Like- shipping and fandom culture from what I understand it is about engaging with media in a way that caters to you. And if you don’t like a ship or show just… block the relevant tags and don’t engage in the ships? The internet isn’t supposed to cater to us- we have to cater ourselves to our internet environment. And no matter how many times people may harass others over a fandom or ship they don’t like, those ships are not gonna disappear.

The internet has just been getting worse when people have decided to place morality in their opinions by saying things like “if you enjoy the ship then you support (insert horrible thing here that’s usually completely unrelated to the ship itself)” when it used to be “eh, not my thing” and people just moved on.

And for the record this isn’t about a specific ship or anything- just an observation of how fandom has evolved (and regressed) over the years and I find it fascinating from a sociological perspective cause we still don’t know how having the internet from birth affects the development of kids and how that affects how they interact with others- isn’t that scary?

I know that’s slightly unrelated but the way people engage in media has been changing over they years and that also involves fandom and the maturity level thereof in the internet space and someone smarter than me could probably write a whole thesis paper about fandom culture and how the internet has hindered the social development of people and how that affects community specifically from a fandom lens.

Just- for your sanity younger internet children: it’s not worth harassing others over something as trivial as ‘it’s not canon that this character kisses another character.’ Just find ships you like. Block ships you don’t. And just enjoy your time doing what you like!

You can’t control the internet but you can nurture your little corner of it.

[sga-owns-my-soul]

being an adult is all fun and games until i have to take my cat to the vet for urinary inflammation and myself to the dentist for a massive cavity and infection in the same fucking day 🙃🙃🙃

i'm so tired

[p0ison-moon]

I have what’s going to be a really unpopular take but please just hear me out. Lately a lot of fellow Jewish bloggers on this website have (rightfully!!) been getting annoyed by random people going into their inboxes and asking if they’re Zionist, how they feel about Israel, etc. And I totally empathize with that because I’m an anti-Zionist Jew so I spend a lot of time correcting people’s assumptions that I must support Israel because I’m Jewish. Furthermore, I want Zionism to stop being seen as a central, undeniable part of being Jewish because that makes Jews like me feel pretty unwelcome. And I am aware that those asks often accuse us of dual loyalty, an antisemitic stereotype. So I’m not saying bloggers should have to answer those asks, or that they can’t get mad about them.

However, I think bloggers are wrong when they say that they can’t affect or change what happens in Israel because they’re American Jews (or otherwise diasporic, but it is almost always Americans who say this), not Israeli Jews.

Look. It’s one thing if you just don’t want to get involved (although I am totally judging you). But I can name a billion different ways American Jews have changed things in Israel, and stuff we can do right now! For example:

- protesting our tax dollars paying for weapons and bombs Israel uses to kill Palestinians, by pressuring our elected representatives, senators, and president into taking a stand against Israel

- supporting the Not on Our Dime Act, which is aiming to prohibit tax-deductible donations from being used to fund illegal Israeli settlements in the West Bank

- working to change Jewish studies curriculum and summer camp + youth group programming to provide kids and students with more options than just Zionism, and a more complete + less biased education about Israel

- no tech for apartheid: Jewish Google workers protesting against Project Nimbus, which helps the Israeli government with surveillance of Palestinians

- using our position to educate people and make our opinions heard, so we don’t let Jewish Zionist organizations speak for us all and influence what gentiles think about Israel and current-day antisemitism

- I have my own opinions about the recent protests over Netanyahu’s judicial reform, but lots of American Jews supported them and they were definitely effective

- and that’s just a few of the many ways I’ve seen American Jews work towards creating real change in Israel. are we the only ones who can do this? no. but gentiles can’t shape the future of the American Jewish community, which altogether has quite a lot of influence in Israel. only we can do those things.

Saying that as American Jews our voices and actions don’t matter when it comes to Israel is actually such a weak, lame-ass excuse for refusing to take a stance for or against Israel. This isn’t something we get to be neutral about; silence equals support for Zionism.

That being said, I can’t control what individual people do. If you seriously want to refuse to support Palestine, fine. Whatever. Just please stop using “American Jews can’t help anyways!” as your excuse when that’s such a blatantly false claim.

[dream-sans-mogai]

Im so fucking tired of allistic people man...

They always present like 2 choices for you and go on for days about how they understand either choice, they won't judge you no matter what you pick and how they'll be fine regardless then act all disappointed and whiney when you make that choice and they didn't get the answer they wanted.

I'm sorry, how was I supposed to know that was the wrong choice™️. If you wanted me to do something why didn't you say it. I don't care about all your little social shit, be honest with me. I didn't choose based on your wants when I don't know what you want. I made the "selfish" choice despite everyone around me saying they supported my decision and totally understood. Then I'm the bad guy. For making a choice. That I was assured over and over again that I wasn't going to be judged for.... I'm so tired of this... I'm so tired of allistic people setting these fucking landmines for me. Like they enjoy my suffering. I always get fucking burned in these situations. I can either just do what I think they want with varying response or I can be honest and unmask and do what I think is best for me then they all collectively sigh and look away like Im the disappointment...

If it's not truly safe, don't fucking tell me I'm safe. If I truely won't be judged, don't judge me. If I can't safely unmask, don't tell me to be myself and make my own choices. Even allistic people who had no fucking skin in this game judged me. I chose the option that was best for me and now I'm the villain. Again. Fuck allistic people man, fuck those wishy-washy judgey ass people.

[void-tiger]

Actually…? No. Tell me the odds. I need the likelihood of success and got nothing else to lose might as well try even if extremely unlikely. Because I need help sustaining the hope that everything’s gonna be okay and motivation to get there that I just can’t do for myself without burning out almost completely.

[keyotosprompts]

sweet nothing ₊˚⊹♡

domestic prompts

⇴ person a being mad at person b, so person b gives them some alone time. only to find person a trying to drag them back to bed bc they miss person b’s presence.

⇴ ^ "i thought you wanted some space?" "i don't need space, i need you" (died)

⇴ going over to family dinner with either person a/b and their sibling/younger cousin is IN LOVE with their partner. like they follow them everywhere and get mad when you guys act like a couple.

⇴ "are you jealous?" "of a child? no way." and person a SMIRKS.

⇴ person a wakes up earlier than the other, but person b is latching on so tightly and their sleeping face is just so cute that person a just falls back asleep anyway.

⇴ that thing when you guys are in bed and your legs wrap around each other. but you're also so close that your head is resting on their bicep and you're caged in their body.

⇴ grocery shopping with their partner. "we do not need those." "but they're so good!!"

⇴ target shopping with their partner. there's something very domestic and sweet about just hanging out in target for an hour or two.

⇴ i'll do you one better: IKEA SHOPPING WITH YOUR PARTNER. the furniture shopping banter. "does this match our living room or do you think it's too much?" followed by "well if we get that coffee table we'll have to get that rug." holding hands throughout IKEA while looking for home decorations.

⇴ person a is blasting music in the shower and person b is singing to it outside the bathroom. person b is so used to it by now and they know all of person a's favorite songs by heart.

⇴ staying beside the other when one of them is doing something. person a is working relentlessly hard on this one task. person b is just sitting there next to them on the couch/bed holding their hand.

⇴ "do you think this looks reasonable or should i change it up a bit?" "maybe switch that up a bit babe" [followed by a kiss on the hand for moral support]

⇴ cooking a meal together in the kitchen with fun music in the back, with occasional messes on the other person's face. person a smears flour on person b's face and person b flicks water on person a's face.

⇴ reading a book together and person b is providing commentary while person a keeps shushing them. person b continues the commentary, because deep down person a enjoys their voice.

⇴ ^ "shh. it just got good." "which is why i have to gasp and voice my opinion!"

⇴ watching tiktoks while the other person is around. (is this niche?)

⇴ having a routine together. like, person a & b are brushing teeth together while person b wraps their arms around person a and leaning into the nape of their neck (they are tired and they want to go back to sleep with a).

⇴ ^ bonus points if person b is extra groggy and still has their sexy morning voice. "i think i'm already missing you," person b says while their head is literally resting on person a's neck. "you're literally right here with me."

⇴ OR alternatively... person a & b are both doing their skincare together, except person b's skincare routine is entirely based off of person a and person a was their "dermatologist"

⇴ sleeping in the same bed, except person a is a blanket hogger and person b is sick of it. so, as a solution, person b literally just holds person a so close to their body so that the blanket isn't stolen in the middle of the night.

⇴ trying to figure out how to defrost a car (i struggled my first time and i would have really enjoyed for someone to HELP)

[moonstruckme]

Hi Mae!! I wanted to request a story where doctor!Remus and you are dating. You're out with James and Sirius whilst he's at work and you pass out/are sick/whatever you think fits the story and they freak out and take you to the hospital, where Remus sees you and loses his mind. He takes care of you and the guys are there for moral support. Also, reader is afraid of doctors in general but specially needles so putting that IV on is a hassle in itself hehe.

Thanks in advance!!!!

Hi, thanks for requesting!

cw: fear of hospitals and needles, somewhat angsty, mention of vomit (in the past tense, if that helps), this was sort of weird to write because I don't usually write reader arguing with their love interest like this but I hope it came out okay

doctor!Remus x fem!reader ♡ 1.3k words

You’re alerted to Remus’ arrival by Sirius’ shrill voice. 

“Finally! I’ve been texting you.” 

“We’re not really encouraged to be checking our phones during busy shifts,” says Remus. He sounds sharp and tired, and you look up from where your head rests on James’ shoulder just as he comes to a stop in front of your chair. A creased brow and gentle hands feeling at your forehead. “Hi, darling. Seems like that flu’s gotten a bit worse, hm?”

“You told us to check in on her,” Sirius goes on, “and we did, and we found her basically in a puddle of her own sick.” 

“She’d been sick in the toilet, and then fell asleep on the bathmat,” James clarifies. “But she seemed really very ill.” 

“Let’s go back,” Remus slides an arm around your waist, hoisting you up against his side and helping you walk towards the double doors that lead out of the waiting area. “What was her temp at when you found her?” 

“We don’t know.” Sirius trails behind, exasperated. “We couldn’t figure out where you kept your thermometer, and she was hardly in a state to say.” 

Remus makes a worried humming sound. “How are you feeling, dovey?”

“Tired,” you sigh, hoping you’re not leaning too hard against him but having a difficult time recalling what walking normally feels like, “‘nd my head hurts.” 

“She seems a bit better than when we first found her,” James says. You think you detect some worry in his tone as well. “She was just waking up then, and Sirius got her to drink some water in the car.” 

“Doesn’t sound like you’ve been taking very good care of yourself,” Remus murmurs, just for you. He kisses your head. “Poor love, I knew I shouldn’t have come to work today.” 

“M’alright,” you say, letting him help you onto a small cot in a curtained-off room. Sirius and James file in behind you, and Remus shuts the curtain once they’re inside. 

You look at him, and your surroundings, the machines and tools and the overwhelming harshness of it all, start to sink in for you. 

“Can you take me home?”

Remus’ expression is gentle. “Not yet, sweetheart. You should be feeling much better once I do, though, yeah?” He brushes a piece of hair away from your face, encouraging you to lie back on the pillow. “Would one of you want to hop up here with her?” he asks the other boys, then to you: “You don’t mind sharing your bed, do you?”

“No,” you say, somewhat bemusedly. Sirius grins at you, climbing over you to lie down by your side. 

“Thanks. I’m just gonna get your vitals now, dove.” 

You feel a bit silly, but your nerves worsen as Remus checks you over, sticking plasticy things in your ear and cold metal on your back and making his various concerned faces. He must notice something when he takes your pulse, because he thumbs over the skin of your forearm comfortingly. Sirius, noticing, works an arm under your shoulders and pulls you close to his side. 

“Alright,” Remus says in what you recognize to be his most soothing voice, “look at Sirius for me, please.” 

You, of course, look in the opposite direction of where he wants you, and he’s taking your arm, pushing up your sleeve. 

“Remus.” Betrayal sounds in your voice as you pull away from him, holding your arm close to your side. 

He sighs. “You need fluids and medicine to get better. You want to go home, yeah?” 

“I don’t want an IV,” you say in a tight voice. 

Remus softens. He rubs your leg through your pajama pants. “I know, babydove, but you need to have one. I’ll get it over with as quickly as I can.” 

“I had to have one last summer, when I got dehydrated,” James pipes up. He’s stolen a small stool likely meant for the doctor and is swiveling back and forth restlessly. “It wasn’t as bad as you might think. I hardly remembered it was there most of the time.” 

“I just don’t want to,” you say again, voice going quiet and frail. Your vision starts to blur. 

“Take a deep breath,” Remus coaches in that lulling voice. It’s half working, a familiar sort of comfort wrapping like a blanket around your frazzled nerves. You feel torn between your trust in your boyfriend and your absolute terror of everything that happens in a hospital. “You’re alright, yeah? This is the last thing you have to do for me. After, you can rest or have a nap, and when you’re well enough you can go home, okay? I might even be able to go with you.” 

You shake your head wordlessly, feeling ridiculous and childish but altogether petrified as you wipe tears from underneath your eyes. 

“Oh, sweetheart.” His brows pinch, and he leans over, kissing your temple. “You’ll be okay, I promise. Look over at Sirius, yeah?” 

You cry but don’t resist as Sirius uses the arm around your shoulders to turn your face away, feeling Remus take your arm in his grasp. His fingers press gently into the crook of your elbow. 

“Hey, it’s okay,” Sirius says quietly. He touches his lips to your forehead. “You’ve got this, babe, it’ll be over before you know it.” 

Remus is obviously doing his best to make good on this promise. He ties the tourniquet quickly, and something cold and wet swipes over your skin. The bite of the needle doesn’t come as a surprise, but you take in a tiny, petrified breath anyway. It rasps wetly in your throat. 

“You’re alright,” Remus murmurs, undoing the tourniquet as he speaks. “You’re doing so well, almost done now.” 

You’re not in pain, necessarily, but the sensation of a foreign object in your arm is distinctly unsettling, and Sirius makes a soft sound of distress when your weeping worsens. None of this is helping your headache, either. Your sinuses throb. 

“There.” You hear tape ripping, and then Remus is pressing it carefully over the spot in your arm. “There, done.” 

Sirius lets go of your face. The moment you turn around Remus’ is on you, brushing away your tears and kissing your hairline apologetically. 

“That’s it, darling, you can relax now. You did so well. Do you feel alright?” 

“He means are you cross with him,” James translates helpfully. 

Remus gives his friend an exasperated look, but his smile is sheepish. “That too, I suppose.” 

“Honestly?” Your voice is pitchy. It scratches against your flu-torn throat. “A little, but not really. I’ll get past it.” 

Remus gives a little laugh. “Oh, my love.” He bends forward, wrapping you up in a hug. “Thank you. I can live with that.” He holds the back of your head, rubbing between your shoulder blades firmly. When he lets you go, it’s with a kiss to your brow. “Sirius, get out of her bed. She needs to rest.” 

“Excuse me?” Sirius is affronted. “I think I’ve just proven I make an excellent pillow. And where am I supposed to sit? James has taken the only stool.” 

“He can stay,” you tell Remus. 

“Thank you, gorgeous. See? Jamie, come over here so we can watch a film on your phone.” 

Remus rolls his eyes, stepping aside to let James scoot by on his stool. “Fine, but try to get some actual sleep. I want your temperature down when I come back to check on you, yeah?” 

“You’re the doctor,” Sirius points out, getting cozy on his side of the bed as you and James scroll through films. “What’s she supposed to do, will it down? Sod off.” 

Remus heaves a long-suffering sigh, pulling off his gloves and dropping them in the trash can. “So glad you’re here.” 

“And where would your girl be if we weren’t, Rem?” asks James, looking up from his phone to raise his brows. “She’s lucky to have us.” 

Remus rolls his eyes, leaving the room. “Aren’t we all.”

[tiktaalic]

catching fire dash simulator

finnicksgirl Follow

my streams have been cutting all season omfg what is going on

caps4finnick Follow

cinnagirl3000 Follow

anybody heard from cinna lately?

plutarcheology Follow

Plutarch Heavensbee circa 2282

revolutionarykatniss

As if it’s not ENOUGH that yall wanna fuck the most morally bankrupt man alive who is more than complicit because he gets paid to live in luxury to ORCHESTRATE the deaths of innocents so that they’re a spectacle and don’t have the option to die even semi peacefully. as if that’s not enough. You wanna fuck him when he’s ugly?

caesarflickerwoman Follow

anyone else still thinking about how caesar and peeta were kinda ..

czrflckmn

Aren’t you the one who had the week long meltdown about peeta being overfamiliar with him

caesarflickerwoman

Well you see I’m gay and a man now

theeclove Follow

already tired of this fucking season of everlark -_- idgaf about the fucking fog

siblingvictors

DISTRICT ONE GONNA SEND THEM A CANCELLATION NOTICE!! #CASHMEREGLOSS4EVER

czrflkmn Follow

everyone looooooves to act like NOTABLE cishet peeta is so gay w caesar as if his gay cohost isn't right there.... slaying in a wig..... sending yearning glances caesar's way right before the camera cuts......

johannadykeson Follow

tbh she’s got the WORST taste in allies idek why i continue to stan. girl MAGS?

#my girl going to get slorn :/

katnissgirlsmakedo

She is choosing with her HEART she chose to save peeta in the games REMEMBERRRRRRRR she’s literally a lovergirl to the core

#lovecore #heartcore #truelove

lucygraydotcom Follow

Caesar flickerman kidn if a laughing gnome. Reblog

finnickforever Follow

I’ve supported finnick through a lot and defended them and I’ve always been proud they're from my district but honestly they went way too far by doing the salute during the interview. I can only hope that they just got caught up in the moment with everyone else doing it and obviously it’s a stressful situation but I don’t think I can continue endorsing them. I’ll be changing my url this week.

divorceekatniss Follow

hey guys i know times are tough for everyone and the capital has really cracked down but my mutual @divorceepeeta got flogged the other day and could really use some help. v3nmo here. anything helps #signalboost #mockingjay

disabledmags Follow

Tbh the baby is the saddest thing I've ever heard </3

peetaspride

Another citizen falling for capital propaganda. It's so glaringly apparent that this is made up to draw in views. The tributes undergo extensive medical examination prior to the games. They would NEVER let a pregnant woman compete.

disabledmags

As if killing children has ever stopped them before?

#We all saw him fall to protect her stomach before they even started the victory tour #Is it that ridiculous to believe two newlyweds fresh out of a life or death situation would celebrate a little carelessly?

peetaspride

If you think even the marriage is real you're stupider than I thought. Peeta spends every interview begging us to see his truth. The capital is shamelessly silencing him and "the baby" is a distraction.

peetasbabymama Follow

URL CHANGE!! faggotpeeta->peetasbabymama

cupcakeeverlark

this isnt funny. peeta's a real person with real feelings. it will never be funny to call someone a f***** as a joke. how would you feel if my url was f*****peetasbabymama?

peetasbabymama

ok

district420

isnt cupcakeeverlark literally prez snow's 12 yr old granddaughter lol

tendinghiswounds

OOMF IS 12???????????

everlarklovechild

the age is the problem here?

marriedeverlark Follow

Canon url 🎉🎊💅😁🥰♥️

beeteemp3 Follow

New content of my favorite tribute 😁😁😁

3ffietrinket

Girl there’s a 96% chance they die ?

peenick Follow

getting reports from the presidential banquet that Peeta looks gay as fuck

3v3rlark Follow

ik peeniss has been flagging w the rehearsed speeches but did anyone else see the way they looked at each other in the censored district 11 speech

rues-song

you’re STUPID she’s a capital pawn AND i fucked your mom while you were busy looking for illegal streams

senecacraneofficial Follow

rip seneca you were so babygirl </3

plutarchbaby69

so now you think we can’t fuck old men?

#this fandom is so ageist #this is prob what I get for blogging about thg tbh since # it’s literally about kids. Some of you ppl need to grow up

[backwardsbread]

Hazbin Hotel Characters:

~Marriage proposals~

Warnings‼️: genderneutral!reader, established relationship, characterxreader, lots of fluff, Valentino existing, mentions of cannibals/cannibalism, possessive behavior, pet names used, mentions of divorce, some swearing.

A/N: How would the Hazbin hotel characters propose! I might do a vise versa, where reader proposes. But this one is the characters proposing to YOU. Enjoy~!

This is pretty long- I don’t know how to find word count, but if anyone wants more, drop a request :))

?Semi proofread?

Lucifer:

This man is a NERVOUS WRECK.

When he realizes he wants to marry you, he lowkey panics. Starts acting like you guys just now started dating.

He’s super anxious, trying to impress you, and prove that he’s good enough for you.

(Whether he’s trying to prove that to you, or himself, is up for debate.)

The two of you met on a whim. You didn’t really know it was the king of hell you were talking to when you first met.

How could this be the king?? He was so goofy. His playful demeanor immediately drew you in.

With even learning about how Lucifer was, it didn’t stop those fuzzy feelings towards him that bubbled in your chest.

It took him a long time to even get into a relationship with you, due to him being caught up in his past with Lillith.

But overtime, your affection is what gets him through the tough days.

He gets all flustered and embarrassed at your sweet gestures, trying to hide the fact that he’s realizing he wants you to always only be his.

As we know, he had a previous marriage and that commitment failed him before. He had a right to feel nervous of the subject that once bruised his soul.

But in his heart, he truly knows this is what he wants. He wants to spend his eternity with you if you allowed him to.

When the thought has finally settled, and he knows he’s ready to try marriage again, it doesn’t settle his nerves.

This has to be PERFECT-

He needs the perfect ring, the perfect setting, the perfect outfit. All of which he had easy access to, he is the king afterall.

Yet, nothing seems to be perfect enough. Nothing is enough, nothing he can think of matches how strong his feelings are for you.

Once he thinks he’s decided on what will be perfect, he ditches the idea to try and come up with something better.

He consults Charlie on this issue a lot. Including her in this is very important to him. He makes sure she’s comfortable with the idea of him being married to someone who wasn’t her mother.

Charlie is a bit put off by the idea, it’s strange to think about. She never thought of her father getting remarried, but the thought doesn’t necessary upset her. She’s more worried about history repeating itself.

Overall, she wants her father to be happy, and helps him prepare for the proposal in any way she can.

(Mostly moral support because this guy is in emotional turmoil over this.)

He’s in a constant inbetween of if this was the right thing to do. Was it too soon in your guys relationship? Was it too soon after his divorce? Would you even want to spend the rest of your damnation with the one who started it all?

With heavy encouragement and reassurance from Charlie, he finally has the guts to ask you the big question.

But….. when he takes you out on the date where he meant to propose…

He chickens out. (Or ducks out haha)

“It is quite beautiful tonight.. you know I love you, right?……. Good! Yeah-! U-Uh-.. oh my golly! Look at the time! How that darn old thing does fly-Haha! W-We should head home!- boy am I tired-!”

Rinse and repeat this process a handful of times.

You do start to get a bit skeptical of your partners behavior. You guys had been going on extremely fancy dates at least once a week.

And while you had no complaints on spending time with Lucifer, you did notice his strange behavior.

The way his mood would incline before your guys’ date, and then suddenly decline when it was over. Then having to take the rest of the week to heal his pride.

It was just a big rollercoaster of emotions. You were starting to worry you were the cause of his stress.

(I mean. Technically you were)

During one of his many attempts in asking you, he had already internally given up when he stumbled over his words in the middle of dinner.

Your date was coming to a close, and like clockwork, Lucifer’s chipper mood deteriorated.

His shoulders slumped, he was pouty, and dragging his feet on the way back to the castle.

Before the two of you can enter, you grab Lucifer’s hand, stopping him. He gives you a confused look, posture straightening to look at you.

You give him small pecks all over his face, in hopes to cheer him up from whatever was troubling him.

Your actions have the affect you were hoping for, as he laughs and steals your lips into his own, a wide smile on his face as he rests his hands on your waist.

His nerves seemed to dissipate as he felt an overwhelming sense of security and love for you.

His body was moving before his mind could keep up. The moment just felt right.

He pulls away from your shared embrace, reaching into his pocket, and getting down on one knee. He opens the ring box, revealing the glimmering jewelry within it.

You look at him in shock and he returns the same look, surprised at his own actions. Well there was no backing out of it now- (saY SOMETHING LUCIFER-)

It takes him a few seconds to recover from the shock and he’s tempted to just pretend to tie his shoe. But you knew his intentions and watched the nerves wrack their way up his body once again.

Before he can even speak, give a speech he had rehearsed probably a hundred times in front of his mirror, you say yes.

And the relief that washes over this man— the weight that lifted off his shoulders in that moment— felt amazing.

You bend down with him, smiling ear to ear and chuckling as you realized this is why he was so worked up the past couple months.

Tears fill Lucifer’s eyes as he slides the piece of jewelry onto your ring finger.

You kiss away the tears that slip down his face and he wraps his arms around you, pulling you into a hug.

His tattered heart feeling stitched back together that day.

Alastor:

We all know Alastor isn’t the biggest on romance.

He’s a true gentleman, of course, but public displays of affection and intimate relationships weren’t his cup of tea.

The two of you had know each other for years in the afterlife, yet it was only recently you had put a label on your relationship.

Falling for you was never part of his plan.

He first saw you as an prey, only a possible soul he could claim for his ongoing collection.

But your sickening sweetness unfortunately grew on him over time. He once wanted to take advantage of it, but he became too fond of you to corrupt it.

You moved from his prey to his acquaintance.

You lived in cannibal town where he would frequently visit.

You join the gossip sessions with him and Rosie, indulging in their banter. It starts by you just walking by and throwing a comment towards their conversation you were listening in to. Eventually you had your own designated seat at their table.

Rosie definitely saw the potential the connection you and Alastor had, so she subtly pushes the two of you to hang out more.

This leads to your relationship advancing from mere acquaintances to good friends. The transition quick due to Rosie’s persistence.

Anytime Alastor would visit cannibal town, he would make effort to pay you a visit. He just felt so drawn to your company.

His smile felt less strained, his body would relax, and he could do what he wanted while you served up some fresh pinkie fingers.

There would be occasions of Alastor realizing he’s dropped his guard around you, and he would be snippy and aggressive those days. In fear of going soft and losing his mojo.

The first time he did this scared you,

(I mean obviously, the mans body grows two-ten times in his demon form)

But after a talk with Rosie about it, you tried to be understanding. Instead of falling away or distant with Alastor after his little tantrums, you simply waited it out. When he was back to normal asking softly if he wanted to talk about it or move on.

It wasn’t clear to you when you guys really started being affectionate towards one another. It just kind of happened.

You knew Alastor to be a gentleman before formally meeting him. So him linking arms with you, kissing your knuckles, holding open doors was nothing new.

It seemed like everyone besides the two of you knew the true feelings you two had for each other before you guys did.

You were holding hands, seeing each other everyday, Alastor would give you his coat to borrow on colder days, etc. Just small sweet gestures the two of you would share.

It took an incredible amount of time for Alastor to come to terms with his feelings. He hadn’t done this before and had no control of what his heart wanted. It was scary.

Putting a label on what you guys had didn’t seem necessary. The two of you knew what you meant to each other in an unspoken agreement.

(Rosie did eventually pressure him to actually ask you out however. It was the gentleman’s thing to do)

(But enough backstory)

More often than not, Alastor found himself spending his nights with you. Not to leave until the morning or midday after.

The two of you practically lived together when the overlord wasn’t too busy with other matters.

We already went over how the two of you weren’t big on labels. It wasn’t until Rosie asked that Alastor had even thought about marriage.

“Sooo… when are you going to put a rock on your pretty thang’s finger?”

“Hm? I don’t think it’s necessary.”

“What?? You’re kidding right? That darling and you have been together ages! You wouldn’t want someone else swiping them away from you, right?”

“Hah! Never going to happen. Who in their right mind would try that?”

“…”

“You do know where we are, right?”

It had never occurred to the Radio demon before. You guys had made your relationship official of course. Anyone else who would try and court you and take you away from him would be simply insane.

But the thought wormed itself into his brain and flourished.

The thought of not knowing what you were doing 24/7. The thought of someone possibly stealing you away without his knowledge.

The thought of some undeserving sinner having their hands on what belonged to him.

It irked him.

After that conversation with Rosie, say goodbye to your privacy. You’re not going anywhere alone. He can’t risk someone even attempting to steal you away.

It was irritating how he was always tracking you, keeping a shadow with you at all times.

If someone even dared to hold open a door for you that wasn’t him or his shadow, he’d show up at your side in an instant.

It made you anxious and overall, you felt your partner didn’t trust you.

You did express these feelings to Alastor, but your words seemed to phase right through him. You had no idea what had gotten into him to make him (even more) protective.

You joined him in bed one night, as he was stilling up, enjoying a book with jazz music emitting from his aura.

You cuddle close to him, the feeling of fuzzy static that enveloped you a comforter for your slumber.

Before you can let yourself drift off to sleep, your partner closes his book with one hand, the loud thump making you jolt.

“Say darling, what do you think of marriage?”

The sudden ask has you dumbfounded, giving him a deer in headlights stare. (Hah-)

He had never even mentioned marriage before yet here he was now, smiling at you as he waited for your response.

You give honesty, telling him you never really thought of it yourself and you were surprised to hear the idea from him.

You did mention how the subject didn’t draw you away. You knew you loved Alastor with your entire soul. Your heart and soul were his without one of his binding contracts.

Once he hears your approval he snaps his fingers making one of his shadows appear, holding out his signature red coat to him. He reaches into the pocket of his jacket, fishing out what he desired.

He pulled out a small box and handed it to you, his shadow dismissing itself from the scene.

You give him a confused look, before gently opening the box. Your eyes meeting the small band inside.

Oh- he was serious?????

You give him a puzzled look, while he just tilts his head at you, silently asking ‘too soon?’

Your eyes continue to track from the ring, to him, back to the ring, then back to him.

Your hesitation comes off as denial to Alastor, so he reaches out to take the box back. Before he can even lay a finger on it, you pull it to your chest protectively.

You give him a glare for even having the audacity to try and take this away from you. Your actions make him chuckle and hold his hands up defensively.

You slip the band onto your ring finger. Once it’s perfectly snug onto your digit, you pull your partner close to you, peppering his lips with small pecks. Scolding him in between your kisses for being so nonchalant.

He simply chuckles against your affections, telling you the ring will be a reminder you are always his.

And you wouldn’t have had it any other way.

Vox:

Vox is not one for settling down. No shot in hell.

Have you seen this man?? Holy hell take a chill pill.

A lot of Vox’s priorities lie with his work. He’s always pushing the boundaries of tech, eager to create something new and be on the face of it.

He never thought of dating. Being tied down to one person made him cringe. So the thought of marriage never even entered his system.

Then there was you of course. Messing up his plans.

How could he not fall for you? You were charming, beautiful, and down right too good for him.

(According to him.)

Your presence and the feelings you gave him made him feel threatened. He tried to put him a wall between the two of you, avoiding you at all costs.

But when he would look at his phone, seeing your icon pop up with messages to him. His fans would kick into gear, his cold heart ticking rapidly in his chest.

Yeah he had it BAD.

When you became a priority to him as well, it kind of threw a wrench in the balance of his schedule.

Yes he loves you but that fact scares him. He wasn’t exactly the safest demon to be around.

So he found it better that the two of you keep your relationship secret. Mostly spending early mornings and late nights with you.

It was difficult to manage. You wanted nothing more than to try hang out with your partner all day but he was always busy.

You would visit him at work, but on very rare occasion. You still owned your soul, which meant Valentino saw it as up for grabs, despite Vox’s warnings (threats) to not lay a finger on you.

As much as you enjoyed visiting your partner at work, you understood his reasonings for being uncomfortable with it.

Besides that, the chance of others seeing the two of you in public was way too high. You guys didn’t usually go on dates.

Your partner was more comfortable having you stay at home, having a double life without him. You lived with Vox, but outside of the time you two spent together, you had your own things going on.

Vox knew about it of course, he cares about you more than anything. He needs to know what’s going on at all times. And what you had going on outside of him was important to him.

He always has a screen pulled up in his monitor room while working. Just to see what you were up to.

The screen usually tracked a camera on you whenever you went out, it displayed your phone screen whenever it was in use, and showed your vitals on the bottom corner of the screen.

He didn’t trust the sinners that roamed these streets, rightfully so. Being able to track you gave him a source of comfort when he couldn’t always be around.

As mentioned before, going out on dates wasn’t really a thing. But Vox would usually clear up one day a month in his schedule. Just to spend the entire day with you.

(Of course he occasionally shuts down, checking how everything is going at V headquarters while he’s not around. Cant take this man entirely away from his work)

You’d spend those days cuddling, ordering in some takeout, and just catching up with each other. Getting in as much affection as you could.

The nights were soft and intimate. It was what you always looked forward to.

Vox had some things to do early morning on the day designated for the two of you. You did pout and complain to him, but he promised to be back as soon as he could.

Hours passed and you started to get a little bit peeved that your partner had yet to return home. Checking the time, you decide to take matters into your own hands.

You get dolled up, pack up a small container of snacks, and head to V’s headquarters.

Making your way through the crowd of demons and sinners. You head up the elevator, but it stops on Valentinos floor.

And with just your luck, the lustful demon is standing there, waiting to get on. When he sees your face, he grins wide and enters the elevator. Standing uncomfortably close.

He blows out his pink slut smoke into the small space, making you cringe and try to waft the stench away from you.

Valentino is touchy and that’s an understatement.

So when he bends down at your level, once again offering a job to you, your heart rate spikes.

Meanwhile, Vox is having a one sided argument with Velvette, the young overlord scolding him as she changed his outfit several times.

It wasn’t often Vox was used as a model for Velvette, but he had actually asked her ahead of time to design something special for you and him.

By ahead of time, he asked yesterday, not giving Velvette nearly enough time.

While he tuned out of his teammate reprimanding him, his watch buzzed, alerting him of your abnormal heart rate.

He gives a confused look, his screen going black for a second as he brought up his home security camera on his screen. When seeing you weren’t at the house, his eye twitched.

Where the hell did you go??

He was brought back, his face glitching in and out as he pulled out his phone, bringing up your location.

He saw how close you were and immediately thought the worst.

He zaps himself into the nearest camera, zipping through the electronics to find where you are.

Within a minute, he’s found you in the elevator, practically cornered by Valentino who was literally drooling on you.

The lights flicker in the elevator as it comes to a screeching halt. Cue your partner showing up with a crack of blue electricity, yanking Valentino away from you by the moth’s wing.

He puts himself in front of you, acting as a shield so you don’t have to be near Valentino’s poison.

“W̵̰̻͍̉̔̅̀̐͐͒͆̒̚ḥ̸̨̧̗̮̖̽̂̓̀̍̋͋́̅̃͘͜͝ǎ̴̯̀͠t̸̫̫̤͕̳̻̰̣̭́̌̉͝ͅ t̸̫̫̤͕̳̻̰̣̭́̌̉͝ͅḥ̸̨̧̗̮̖̽̂̓̀̍̋͋́̅̃͘͜͝ë̸͓̮͉͈͇͍̖͎̩̞͈́́́̋̇̾͋̈́̾͆͑͘͘͜͠͝ f̵̢̻͈̫̬̻͔̆̇̍̈̌͊ͅ��̞͈u̷̬̩̰̫͕̘͎̔́̃̄̍͋̓c̵̛̥͊k̵̘̺̦͉͖̪̪͖͉͊̆̔́̈́̍̃̈́͒̂̑̀̚͜͝ d̶̡̲̗̼̮̤̤̳̲͖͓͍͔͓̓̎̽́̽̏̐͂̆͆͘͘͘ŏ̸̡̼̺̫̥̻͈̞̍͆̏̓́͜͝ͅ y̶͔͗ŏ̸̡̼̺̫̥̻͈̞̍͆̏̓́͜͝ͅu̷̬̩̰̫͕̘͎̔́̃̄̍͋̓ t̸̫̫̤͕̳̻̰̣̭́̌̉͝ͅḥ̸̨̧̗̮̖̽̂̓̀̍̋͋́̅̃͘͜͝i̶̡̹͈͎̳̞͙͖̾̂̀͑̀͆̑̓̽̉͐͘͘ͅǹ̷̨͍̮̥̹̘͙̗̻̬̬̜̥̮̃̒̈́̽͗̿̍̄̂̏͆͠͝k̵̘̺̦͉͖̪̪͖͉͊̆̔́̈́̍̃̈́͒̂̑̀̚͜͝ y̶͔͗ŏ̸̡̼̺̫̥̻͈̞̍͆̏̓́͜͝ͅu̷̬̩̰̫͕̘͎̔́̃̄̍͋̓’r̵̡͕͈͚͍͍̼͕̍̀̈́̽̎̍͗̍́̏̚͜͠ë̸͓̮͉͈͇͍̖͎̩̞͈́́́̋̇̾͋̈́̾͆͑͘͘͜͠͝ d̶̡̲̗̼̮̤̤̳̲͖͓͍͔͓̓̎̽́̽̏̐͂̆͆͘͘͘ŏ̸̡̼̺̫̥̻͈̞̍͆̏̓́͜͝ͅi̶̡̹͈͎̳̞͙͖̾̂̀͑̀͆̑̓̽̉͐͘͘ͅǹ̷̨͍̮̥̹̘͙̗̻̬̬̜̥̮̃̒̈́̽͗̿̍̄̂̏͆͠͝ǧ̷̡̟̲̹̩̱͉̮̭͇͚̮̖̟̽̓͊̔̓̕??”

(What the fuck do you think you’re doing??)

Vox’s voice glitched out, muted TV static layering his voice as the fans whirled in the back of his head. In a desperate attempt to cool him down.

Valentino doesn’t give much of a reaction, putting his hands up in feigned innocence.

“𝒟𝑜𝓃’𝓉 𝓌𝑜𝓇𝓇𝓎 𝒱𝑜𝓍𝓍𝒾𝑒! 𝐼 𝓌𝒶𝓈 𝒿𝓊𝓈𝓉 𝑜𝒻𝒻𝑒𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝑜𝓃𝑒 𝓁𝒶𝓈𝓉 𝓉𝒾𝓂𝑒 𝒷𝑒𝒻𝑜𝓇𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓉𝒶𝓀𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓂 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇𝓈𝑒𝓁𝒻-“

“You better watch your mouth.”

“𝒪𝒽𝒽, 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒽𝒶𝓋𝑒𝓃’𝓉 𝒶𝓈𝓀𝑒𝒹 𝓎𝑒𝓉. 𝒲𝑒𝓁𝓁 𝓂𝓎 𝒷𝒶𝒹 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓈𝓅𝑜𝒾𝓁𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒷𝒾𝑔 𝓈𝓊𝓇𝓅𝓇𝒾𝓈𝑒.”

Valentino speaks with sickening sarcasm. You look between the two, incredibly confused. Vox looks like he’s about to explode.

The lights flicker back on, and the door opens, Vox demanding his business partner leave.

The moth scowls at the both of you, before putting one set of hands on his hips, the other set of arms crossing across his chest. In the most sassy way possibly leave the two of you behind.

Vox waits for the elevator door to close before he can breath again. He’s muttering angrily to himself, one hand on either side of his screen as he tries not to blue screen.

You put your hand over his, his cold hand giving you a subtle shock of electricity as you touched him. You give him a concerned gaze, silently asking if he was okay.

Vox looks at you, shoulders relaxing just looking into your comforting eyes. Little bolts of electricity shoot out from the side of his screen as he tries to calm himself, his fans working overtime.

You set down the bag of treats you were bringing for him to hold his hands in your own. You give him a bright smile, concern not leaving your eyes.

You reassure him that whatever he had planned isn’t ruined. You could just pretend you didn’t know! You didn’t want this little run in to ruin your guys’ day.

You ramble on as he just stares at you, almost blankly, his screen fading from blue to a baby pink as he listened to you.

As you’re apologizing for causing trouble, he puts a hand up to stop your little speech.

He reaches into his pant pocket, pulling out a small halo shaped piece of jewelry. He holds your left hand in his own as he gets down on one knee in front of you.

I mean.. you knew he had a surprise planned, but seeing his actions didn’t fail to shock you.

He gives a little speech to you, stuttering and glitching over his words as he tries to explain himself.

For being a perfectionist overlord, this was one hell of a show.

He’s a blushing glitching mess, cursing to himself when he couldn’t find the exact words he wanted to say.

You grab the sides of his screen, looking him in the eyes and forcing him to meet your gaze. You’re saying yes before he can embarrass himself anymore.

He looks a bit shocked by your response, he can’t believe you said yes after that display he just put on. Before he can get the ring on your finger, he blue screens from shock and embarrassment.

You kind of chuckle and sit down beside your partner while you wait for him to reboot. Not like you could go anywhere with the elevator being stuck with the two of you inside. You do gently take the piece of jewlry, sliding it onto your finger and admiring its design.

Cuddling into Vox’s arm, you can’t help but smile brightly at the decorative piece snug on your ring finger.

It was perfect.

[cannellee]

Hi, I hope you're well?

How do the Alpha!TR-boys behave (Mikey, Chifuyu, Baji, Kazutora, Izana, Kakucho, Shinichiro and South) when his Omega finally born their puppy?

But only if you want it or you feel like good.

Thank you very much :D

TOKYO REVENGERS OMEGAVERSE ☆

୨୧ alpha! tokyorev x omega! reader (pairing: mikey, chifuyu, baji, kazutora, izana, kakucho, shinichiro, south)

— their reactions to their omega giving birth

I kinda gave up at the end sorry it's not as detailed as the others😭

MY MASTERLIST : ☆

𐙚 ALPHA! MIKEY

mikey's overly excited, grinning from ear to ear like a child. you actually wanted to keep your pregnancy a secret from people and simply keep this a secret between you and mikey.

however, once your belly grows big enough that it's impossible to ignore it, mikey's the first to spread the news, happy to finally share that he's the one who knocked you up. despite his joy, he's feeling especially cautious and possessive. he's constantly oscillating between an extreme aggressiveness and an excessive care for you. it's a weird combo, but it works out for the both of you and you quickly find your balance during those 9 months.

when you get closer to your delivery, you can both feel it and while you get more sensitive and fragile because of all the hormones fighting inside you, mikey switches and reacts to your own needy pheromones. you can start smelling your baby's own soft scent and it sets mikey on edge to know he has to protect two human beings now, he's even more alert than before.

giving birth was hard and exhausting, and mikey stayed right by your side the whole time, acting like a moral support. hearing your little baby's first cries was truly an emotional moment : when mikey finally realised that he was a father. looking at your child's face, he smiled at how frail and how precious he looked. holding his tiny hand, he felt the responsibility of protecting and providing for his family even stronger than before, absolutely determined to cherish the both of you.

                                    · · ୨୧ · ·

𐙚 ALPHA! CHIFUYU

chifuyu, like all the others, is extremely ecstatic to hear you are expecting. when you first tell him, he's holding you in his arms, spinning you around and kissing your giggling face all over.

even before you can see a bump on your stomach, he's always caressing it, feeling giddy inside knowing he's going to be a father. it's your first child : he's anxious and afraid he won't do great, of course you reassure him, feeling your motherly instincts take over, you can't help yourself from wanting to help your mate feel okay.

but despite his initial anxiety, chifuyu quickly pulls himself together, ashamed he even let his pregnant omega take care of him when he is supposed to support her during this tough journey. he grows more confident and assertive during those 9 months, naturally taking the lead and being fully capable of knowing exactly what you need.

when you finally give birth, he's right by your side, holding your hands and letting you dig your nails as painfully deep as you need during the whole process. he's constantly checking on you, talking you through it to get your mind off of the pain of labour. even with your sweaty face and tired eyes, you remain the most beautiful omega in his eyes and he doesn't hesitate to kiss your lips once he hears your baby cry, signaling that you finally did it.

he's carefully holding the baby in his arms, already scenting her, then you, and hands her to you once you've calmed down enough. he smiles as he watches the both of you bond, all the doctors leaving the room after administering the last needed treatments. he takes his time to praise you gently, not rushing you in the slightest and watching with a content smile his most precious persons together.

the only moment he leaves your side afterwards is to get you a glass of water and buy some snacks. he grew even more protective and doesn't want to risk anything. he knows exactly what you need, you guys communicate with each other so well that you don't even need to voice your discomfort. not even when his mother is trying to separate you from your baby, too exhausted to be able to keep her in your weak arms. after contacting your families to announce you had given birth, you didn't think it would have pushed them to come and visit you right away...

she's snatching your pup despite your objections, insisting she has the right to cuddle her grand-daughter. the lack of contact sets you on edge and once chifuyu gets back, he immediately analyses the situation and kicks his own mother out, carefully placing back the child on your chest, apologising on behalf of her. he's scenting you and locking the door, making sure the next few days are spent in the intimacy of your home, where you'll focus on getting your strength back.

                                    · · ୨୧ · ·

𐙚 ALPHA! BAJI

baji has always wanted to take it further with you, feeling himself ready and able to support you and another little one. the thought alone of having mini versions of the both of you running around sparked his own instincts of fire, feeling them cloud his mind and flood him with images of your pregnant body.

he knew you would look absolutely gorgeous all swollen with his pups and now that his fantasy came true, he can only worship you even more. you smell heavenly and the way each piece of clothes highlight your bump, he can't help himself from touching it and keeping his hand glued to your stomach.

he's growling and threatening people, even his own friends, displeased with the way they so carelessly approach you even if you're the one who went up to them in the first place. after a few months, baji is keeping you at home, in your nest. you can't leave. he considers it better for both you and your baby's health to stay far from the pollution of the city and the annoying and soiled pheromones of others. your scent is so pure, so sweet and maternal, he wants the whole room to smell like you and preserve it the best he can.

the day your water broke, baji was extremely reactive, knowing exactly what to do as if he had done it a thousand times. he carries you and presses your head in his neck, forcing your stressed out self to inhale his comforting pheromones. he reassures you, telling you you're almost there, and with the way he manages to keep his tone very calm, it rubs off on you and soothes your stress a tiny bit.

he's definitely not leaving your side and even pressures the doctors into taking very good care of you and your baby. he's kissing your knuckles, telling you how strong you are and how proud of you he is.

after you were sent home, he's fulfilling your every needs, satisfyingly watching his omega feed your baby. he's scenting you when you need it, massaging your neck and feet when it feels too much and monitoring who is allowed to meet you and your pup, not wanting too many people next to his newly formed family.

                                    · · ୨୧ · ·

𐙚 ALPHA! KAZUTORA

kazutora's relationship with you and your baby is heavily determined by his traumas he's still trying to heal from. he has a past which is difficult to ignore and his worst nightmare is to become like his father and reproduce the abusive pattern he grew up with.

he had his fears when you were pregnant but was far too happy to fully think about it. the sense of familiarity he found within you was reassuring enough that, even if he was still doubtful, the trust you put in him helped him gain confidence.

but now that you're both there, right in front of his eyes, defenceless enough that one wrong move from him would give you severe injuries, he's not so sure anymore of what he's doing. he's flinching whenever he accidentally makes a loud noise, scared the baby might associate him with something unpleasant. he scents the both of you too often to even count, making sure his pheromones become a source of comfort and nothing else.

but one thing he is good at, is driving alphas away. you might not have noticed it but, except for his most trusted friends, both you and your child didn't interact with any other alpha for at least a year. he just loves you too much to risk being careless and threaten your health, he wants to be a good father and prove to himself that he has changed for the best.

                                    · · ୨୧ · ·

𐙚 ALPHA! IZANA

you didn't want to tell him at first, knowing how explosive izana's personality was and how right now wasn't a particularly good time, with all the fights he still got into. denying your pregnancy unknowingly took a toll on your health and soon enough you found yourself hospitalised. your belly was as flat as always despite the fact that you were getting dangerously close to the final day.

izana rushed to your side once he heard the news of the two of you's future responsibility. he held your hand, upset more against himself than against you for not even noticing any changes in your behavior and so obliviously holding you at night without a single clue of your actual condition. he took you home in a heartbeat after consulting the doctors and instead focused on taking care of you, providing a safe environment for you and your future baby and making sure you gained your health back by following exactly what the experts advised.

the moment your daughter is born, he's turning into a hopelessly devoted dad who'll do anything to keep both his princesses satisfied. he spends most of his time praising you for being such a strong and resistant omega, delivering your baby despite the excruciating pain.

his instincts are now even more sensitive than before, fearing so strongly a possible threat. he growls and threatens with intimidating pheromones for any strangers to stay away, no matter who they are : it's his baby and his omega, both in a weakened state considering what they went through. nobody's passing through him. he has the urge to show you how well he can take care of you, to prove you how wrong you were to be scared to tell him you were having his baby.

his favourite moments are when the both of you are in his arms, securely tucked right against his chest, with his precious omega breastfeeding their pup like the good mother she is, nurturing instincts taking over her so much to the point he can't help but regret not impregnating you sooner.

                                    · · ୨୧ · ·

𐙚 ALPHA! KAKUCHO

you didn't even have to tell kakucho : he could smell the slightest change of scent within you and instantly knew that the new coconut scent wasn't exactly yours. for him, that was a heavy indicator of what you were going through.

and he's elated, absolutely blissful to learn that the love of his life is waiting for a child, his child. kakucho is family oriented and welcoming a new member inside your home felt like the accomplishment of his life.

he makes sure the whole process goes smoothly, learns a lot of things to manage any situations with great skills and provides anything you might need. once your baby comes into your lives, he's getting more and more protective, taking care of the both of you like you're made of glass.

you don't move, you stay inside the safety of your nest, trying to recover from the shock your body went through. he's bringing your meals after preparing them according to a nutritionist's study about pregnant omegas and the preferred diet they should have after delivering. he's constantly asking how you're feeling, fearing your health might sink as it happens often. but you only seem to improve and you assure him you're doing just fine.

he doesn't forget to thank you. kakucho actually feels extremely grateful to you, who gave birth to his lovely pup and he keeps a watchful eye on the both of you. when the baby's not in your arms, he's in kakucho's, who tenderly rocks him in his arms, looking not one bit awkward, expertly consoling his little newborn.

                                    · · ୨୧ · ·

𐙚 ALPHA! SHINICHIRO

shinichiro is as emotional as ever, not taking the news lightly and crying from joy, crushing you into a very long hug before immediately apologising and putting a gentle hand over your still flat stomach.

he's pacing outside of the room when his omega finally gets into labor, both anxious and excited to meet his newborn. meeting his son for the first time felt surreal. he walked in, his eyes immediately finding his omega resting on the bed, looking exhausted but radiant. in your arms was the tiniest bundle, wrapped snugly in a pastel blanket. he walked slowly towards you, as if in a dream, and when you held out the baby to him, he hesitated for a moment before taking him into his arms. his voice was thick with emotion when he introduced himself to him, proudly saying that he was his dad.

when he carried you back home, he forced you to lay down on the couch, your baby safely curled up in your tired arms. he covered you in warm blankets, strongly scented by him to reassure the both of you while he focused on unpacking your stuff. you melted inside the familiarity of your home, a smile of content stretching your lips while you watched your alpha come and go, stopping every five minutes what he was doing to kiss you and the baby he so dearly adored.

                                    · · ୨୧ · ·

𐙚 ALPHA! SOUTH

the second he learns you're pregnant, you're not leaving his side anymore. you're spending those 9 months glued at the hip with each other, south carrying you everywhere despite you being fully capable of walking on your own just fine. he's simply scared you'll slip and hurt the both of you, which is why he takes his job as your alpha very seriously.

he's taking you to the hospital 2 days prior, smelling it in your scent that your delivery date isn't far. you don't have to think about anything, south might not be inside your mind but he knows exactly what you need, how you feel... and if he has any doubts, he'll firmly ask you to to voice your thoughts.

he doesn't take anything for granted, ever, even after you finally give birth, he constantly reminds you that you're the most precious thing he has in his life. he makes sure to get rid of any of his suspicious relatives or acquaintances, wanting for his child to grow up in an environment free from any threats.

now, his gentle nature extends to your child. the both of you are the only one who benefit from his sweet side, which creates a robust and loving family, you and south's strengths blending together to form a nice dynamic.

[irisintheafterglow]

Can I request a racer!bakugo showing off his two most precious things after winning a big race, the trophy and his girl pleaseee?

THIS IS SO CUTE I LOVE LOVE LOVE <33 also i can't find it but this is definitely inspired by that one bakugo fic where he's doing a vogue interview about the things he can't leave the house or live without (if anyone knows the link for it please please let me know because it's one of my all-time favorites)

"oh, look! it's bakugo! hey, man!"

"the hell are you doing outside my house?" the interviewer laughs nervously behind the camera, but your boyfriend's scowl doesn't move. it's a wonder that he's still viewed positively in the public eye despite his brash personality. you pinch the bridge of your nose with your fingers and avert your eyes from the second-floor window, sending another prayer begging for him to behave. the interview took place in his own home, for crying out loud. shouldn't he be the most comfortable in his safest space?

the answer is, unfortunately, no.

"i'm uh, here for your '73 questions' interview with vogue. d'you mind if i step inside with you?" he grunts reluctantly in response, swinging the front door open unceremoniously. you pity the poor guy who had to follow your husband around and chuck questions at him like armed grenades; there was always a chance that he would blow up. "so, where were you coming from?"

"grocery store. you want a drink?" good. at least he remembers his manners. "we got water, juice...i ain't giving you alcohol. i don't even know who the hell you are." never mind.

you spend the next 12-something minutes following their one-sided conversation around the house, careful to stay out of sight and silently begging your boyfriend to at least act a little warmer. the only time he does open up, much to the delight of fans, is when he's talking about you.

"'the things most precious to me?' i don't fuckin' know," you can hear him say plainly. you'd resigned to your shared bedroom to finish up some work when you heard the telltale calls of babe, c'mere! babe. babe. babe! from downstairs. with a huff, you set down your pen and make your way into the living room, where you see him holding his latest first-place trophy. it shines under the afternoon sun coming through the backyard windows. the camera pans to you in surprise and you thank your earlier self for wearing something other than pajamas.

"babe, c'mere," he insists and you roll your eyes in exasperation. his arm slips around your waist and you're suddenly hyperaware of the camera that's going to post your image to millions of people. "alright, nerd, you asked me what i wanna show off? they're right here," he boasts proudly and your face starts to heat up. "got my badass lover, my big-ass trophy, and i don't need anything else," he says with unexpected tenderness. "you got that?"

"y-yeah, i got it," the interviewer stutters out. "uh, thank you-"

"the hell do you look so nervous for? i don't fuckin' bite," he says and the man stammers again. "i don't know why i bother doing all this shit," he murmurs in your ear.

"this is why outlets are so scared to interview you, kats," you whisper and he shrugs indifferently. "you scare reporters too easily."

"don't care. i just wanna relax and spend my day off with you. i'm too tired to be dealing with this shit," he grumbles and you laugh under your breath. "baby?"

"hmm?"

"can you do me a big favor?" you narrow your eyes suspiciously while the cameraman fumbles about with his equipment, packing up to leave.

"depends on the favor," you say carefully. "will i need to compromise my morals?" your boyfriend barks out a laugh, and the reporter startles.

"no, no. nothing like that," he reassures you and drops his volume so that only you can hear him. "baby, sweetheart, love of my life?"

"yes, katsuki?"

"please get this man the fuck out of our house."

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

[lasanya539]

tuck your head under the covers

(written for @tmnt-write-fight for @remedyturtles)

Fandom: Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles Prompt: Insomniac Leo - visiting various brothers when unable to sleep, or managing to fall asleep and his brothers doing anything to PRESERVE that sleep Word Count: 4635

Posted on AO3!

---

The first time it happens, Mikey doesn’t make a big deal out of it. 

It’s four in the morning on a Monday, and he’s thirsty, so he gets up from his train car and walks to the kitchen. Only to find Leo sitting at the table, with a lollipop in his mouth and a Jupiter Jim comic in his hands, legs rested on the surface, humming a tune under his breath.

“Leo?” Mikey mumbles drowsily, rubbing at his eyes. “Bro, what are you doing?”

Leo startles in surprise, and sits up, shooting him a guilty look. “Mikes!” He exclaims, voice pitched low. “Shit, I’m sorry, did I wake you up?”

“No, no.” He flaps his hand, grabbing a glass. “I was thirsty, wanted water. Why are you awake right now?”

“Eh, you know, same old, same old. Couldn’t sleep.”

Mikey hums, taking a languid sip. His tired eyes catch a giant mug on the table, black as tar coffee peeking from the bottom, a pack of pink Starbursts with wrappers, and what looks like the crumbled remains of the pecan pie April’s mom had lovingly gifted them. If he was a little more awake, he’d be a lot more pissed about that, but for now he just sighs and stretches. 

“Did you at least try to sleep?” He asks, knowing the answer. 

“Yeah, of course.” Leo replies easily enough, turning away to flip another page. “But that’s the problem with insomnia, my friend, it kinda makes the ‘fall asleep’ thing not happen.”

Hm, not good enough. Mikey waddles over closer, physically pushing his brother’s head up so he can study him. Leo’s eyes are just barely bloodshot, cheeks hollower than he’d like to see on him.

“Can I help you?” He asks, bemused. 

“When was the last time you slept?” 

“Somewhere in the evening, I got a cat nap in. Don’t worry, Mikey, you’re exhausted, go to sleep.”

“You go to sleep.” He retorts around a yawn. He plops down in a chair next to him, picking up an uneaten Starburst and chomping on it. Leo tsks at that, but he ignores him, folding his arms and resting his head comfortably. 

“You just brushed your teeth and are supposed to be asleep, why are you still here?”

“Moral support.” 

“Moral support from what? I – okay,” Leo stands up, all big brother voice. “C’mon, up.”

Mikey whines, not having enough energy to fight as Leo physically picks him up and throws him over the shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

“Grk–?” He chokes out in surprise, when the hell did he get so strong?

“Nope, don’t wanna hear it. This is what happens when you don’t listen to me.”

Leo plants him on the bathroom floor, and pointedly stares at him as Mikey brushes, having to actually count each stroke on the rows of teeth under the scrutiny instead of a quick wash. As soon as he rinses his mouth, Leo picks him up again.

“You realize I have feet.” He said, flopping his limbs in defeat and letting himself be carried lifelessly.

“You think I don’t know you were planning on dragging more ass by suggesting a movie night or something? I’ve taught you all my tricks, I know how your brain works.”

Mikey tries to keep in his smile at how well his brother can read him, and gasps dramatically. “Language! I’ll tell on you to Raphie.”

“If you make it to morning asleep like a good turtle, I’ll tell Raphie, how about that?”

Mikey gets tossed on his bed, the springs creaking under his weight. His favorite quilt is thrown over him, and his stuffed crocodile is tucked in between his shoulder and neck, just how he likes it. The warmth immediately makes him even drowsier, but he blinks up at Leo and invitingly opens his arms.

“Sleep?” He suggests, making the motion of scooting over to make room for him.

A few seconds, but Leo eventually sighs, far too susceptible to the prospect of little brother cuddles. He sticks his freezing feet into the tangle of limbs, making him hiss, but settles in comfortably on his pillow. Arms wind around him and squeeze affectionately.

“Better?” Mikey asks. 

Leo hums on top of his head. “Yep, thanks Angelo. You can pass out now.”

It doesn’t take very long for him to do so. Unfortunately for him, when he does wake up to his 9 A.M. alarm, the side of the bed is cold and the corner of the pillow undented. Outside, he sees Leo casually do the crossword puzzle with Dad with a newly filled mug of coffee in his hand, looking like sleep never graced him at all. Mikey sighs, but sets to making breakfast.

–

The second time it happens, Donnie is pulled out of his whirlwind of thoughts by a single hand on his shoulder. 

Naturally, he jumps, not having expected that contact when he’s working in his lab alone, smack-dab in the middle of the night. He’s too scientific and logic-driven to ever assume the existence of ghosts (which are different from spirits, thank you very much Michael), but the sudden touch makes him doubt that fact for a second.

Leo backs up with his hands up apologetically, and Donnie realizes with some amount of mortification he actually hissed at him. The mortification lasts for all of two seconds before he scowls at his twin with all the irritation in the world as he turns off his loud music. 

“What the hell do you want?” He groans at Leo, rubbing his sore eyes. 

“Just checking in.” Leo says, sounding normal enough, though Donnie picks up a strange note in his voice. He peeks at him between his fingers and catches his eyes look up from his torso just in time.

Looking down, he sees his other hand gripped into a fist, sharp claws extended, held right to the middle of his chest. Shit, he was scratching at his plastron again, the dull ache finally registering in his brain. 

It’s a nasty habit he’s had since he was very young, all the complicated feelings of the big, bad world too much for him to handle. His family has been trying for years to help him work through his emotions instead of immediately resorting to this, but apparently all the effort goes to shit the second it gets to debugging, the devil’s favorite method of torture. Donnie turns away, embarrassed but not willing to admit it. 

Leo thankfully doesn’t make a big deal out of it, and flops onto the back of his chair, resting his head at the top. “What are you working on?”

“Setting up face identification in the scanners in the Hidden City.” Donnie replies tiredly. “The mystic orbs they use as cameras are advanced enough to pick up magical signatures, but somehow not enough to track facial features of their various species of mutants and Yōkai. So, I’m doing it for them.”

Leo snorts. “Wow, how altruistic of you.” He leans in further, presumably to try to read the strange symbols that make up their programming language, before Donnie swats at his face. 

“Stop, you’re ruining my concentration.” 

“Shut up.” He swats back. Annoying

Donnie’s eyes flick over to the corner of the monitor, looking at the time. Wonderful, it’s another night of no sleep for his insomniac twin brother. 

He sighs. “I’m assuming getting bored to death from Papa’s speech on the various opera singers of the 20th century somehow didn’t lure you to sleep?”

“What, are you telling me you don’t care about the 1950s Maria Callas and Renata Tebaldi drama about their different vocal techniques? It’s the hottest tea from that side of the century, Don-Don, I’m disappointed in you.” He dodges the swat from him this time.

Donnie turns up to look at him, noticing his brother’s heavy eyelids blinking over his sharp eyes, far too awake for someone who hasn’t slept in Gaga knows how long. He’s wearing his soft blue hoodie, the big one that he makes sure is always washed with the rose scent beads for the comforting smell. 

“Is there anything specific that is keeping you up?” He asks, worried. 

“Nah, not really. Unless you count my dumb brain as a whole, nope.”

“Don’t call yourself dumb.” Donnie says, practiced. He stands up and stretches, hearing some impressive cracks from his neck that Leo whistles at.

“Is there anything I can say that will make you try to sleep again?” 

“Probably not, if I’m being honest.”

“Okay, then.” He doesn’t argue. If there’s one thing he knows about his twin is that badgering him about his sleep intake, no matter how worrying, is the best way to get completely shut out by him. And as annoying as he finds Leo on a day-to-day basis, he’s rather fond of the time he gets to spend with him in the middle of the night when it's just the two of them, the disaster twins. “Do you wanna play some Mario Kart instead?”

Leo brightens up. “Snacks?”

“Of course we’ll have snacks. I may be crazy, but I’m not a heathen.”

“Oh yeah, sorry, you’re a civilized demon-possessed genius, right?”

“Exactly right, my dear brother.”

The twins grab enough popcorn and candy from the pantry to send a tiny child into a coma, but as soon as Leo’s hand moves to the coffee machine, Donnie whacks it with a box of Nerds. “Dude, ow?”

“No more caffeine.” He says sternly.

“Oho, that is rich coming from you—”

“Yeah, well, deal with it. Otherwise I’m switching the kitchen permanently to decaf and making myself a secret password protected machine with the good coffee, the extra dark-roasted one.” That shuts Leo up fast. 

They play and bicker loudly in the soundproof lab, up until the wee hours of the morning. Eventually, Donnie falls asleep with the controller in his hand, only to wake up in the afternoon and find himself resting on the cot with his favorite blanket, battle shell and mask off. His sleepless twin nowhere to be found. 

–

The third time it happens, Raph is having a nightmare about the Krang. 

It’s par for the course, really. In the morning, he happens to overhear one of Mikey’s favorite YouTubers talk about their grief over their late friend who was lost to the bubblegum aliens, so he spends the most of the day in a haze, keeping to himself in the dojo, training, and eating his dinner alone while reading news articles about the reconstruction in New York to repair the damage from their fight. 

One trigger after another. So it’s no surprise that his dreams are filled with sick pink flesh and yellow eyes, tentacles worming over his body, digging into his brain, sadistic voices of the hive mind overpowering his screams, the feel of a lithe figure in his clutch, nails scratching onto his hand as he tightens his grip on his victim, his brother—

The part that’s surprising, however, is the other presence in his room, comforting, safe. Soft words spoken over his whimpers, warm hands smoothing over his shell as he regains consciousness. “Deep breaths, big bro, you’re okay, you’re safe, I promise you. Try to breathe, please.”

He breathes, turning away from the damp pillow, lifting his head up by his elbows to blink the sleep away. Blood pools back into his body, bones creaking in protest. All four limbs, whole, green, normal. 

Raph takes in one deep breath, and lets it out with meditative precision. His vision finally clears. Leo is sitting on the corner of his bed, hands anxiously rubbing together but giving him space to get up on his own. Worried eyes ticking over his face before latching onto his, relieved. 

“Hiya, Raphie.” He says with remarkable poise. “Okay?”

Raph slowly scoots up to sit properly, picking up one of his stuffed bears and hugging him. Embarrassment keeps him from meeting Leo’s eyes, burying his face in the soft fake fur. “Mhm.”

A hand gently strokes his leg, a comforting, involuntary motion. “Long day?”

“...You could say that.” He agrees. He clears his throat. “What time is it?”

“Just after 2.” Leo squeezes his knee. “Do you want me to wake Dad?”

Raph scoffs. “What is Dad going to do in the middle of the night? Let him sleep.” 

“Okay, how about the other guys? We could turtle pile.”

He shakes his head before Leo finishes. “No, no, it’s not important, Leo. Let them all sleep.”

“It is important.” He replies sharply, and Raph blinks up at him. Leo’s sporting his own version of a Raph Chasm, eye-ridges pulled together in a gut-wrenching frown, lips turned down. “You are important.”

A lump rises in his throat, but he swallows it down. He’s had enough of Leo stubbornly insisting that he stop dismissing his own emotions over the years, so he says nothing, instead lifting up an arm. Leo immediately snuggles in next to him, shell fitting perfectly under his arm. 

The tension falls off his frame as his little brother wiggles to get comfortable. Raph sighs, the dregs of his nightmare-fueled dread seeping away with Leo right next to him, the scent of roses in his nose. 

“Do you wanna talk about it?” He offers. 

“Pizza Supreme, no.” Raph snorts, making Leo huff. 

“Okay.” He agrees easily. Then, “Oh, I almost forgot!”

From the pocket of his hoodie he pulls out his phone, tapping at it for a couple of seconds before holding out the camera. “Snap streak.”

Raph snorts again but obliges his younger brother, putting on some version of a smile as he takes the picture, adding a bunch of unicorn emojis in the corner before showing it to him for approval. 

He takes the phone, but immediately frowns, zooming in to study Leo’s face. Even though he’s grinning, the exhaustion is practically radiating off him. The red stripes under his eyes are marred with purple bags, eyes squinting with the effort of staying up. He looks like he’s about to pass out almost any second.

Raph sends off the streak, and starts arranging the pillows and stuffed animals around him to make space for two sleeping turtles. He pulls his blanket over Leo’s head, which he, of course, shoves back. “What are you doing?”

“Tucking you in.” He informs him, dragging him down. “We’re going to sleep for a very long time.”

“Sure, Raphie, whatever you say.” Leo says too easily, and he immediately calls bullshit. 

“No, we’re really going to sleep. No more pretending.” He glares at him with one eye open. “Promise?”

Leo hesitates, but then forcibly relaxes himself, nuzzling closer. “I’ll try, promise.”

As good as he’s going to get, Raph thinks. He squeezes his brother tight enough for him to wheeze and laugh, wishing him goodnight and eventually falling asleep, nightmares far away. When he wakes up, Leo is on the floor next to the bed, face illuminated by the glow of his phone screen, playing a game of chess. The eye bags seem heavier than ever. 

–

The fourth time it happens, April is trying to catch up on physics homework. 

It’s actually ridiculous how she, a journalism major, has to study physics at all, even as a gen-ed. She’s a sophomore now, for god’s sake, she’s supposed to be interning at CNN and MSNBC, or at least spearheading some kind of journaling initiative with a bunch of her classmates. But no, Eastlaird is forcing her to calculate angular momentum and torque for a homework that is apparently not due on Monday, but in the morning on Friday, which is tomorrow. Or more accurately, today, she thinks, warily eyeing the clock on the table that reads 3:35 A.M.

She has maybe one more problem left before she can finally get some sleep, and hopefully get to stay over at the lair for the weekend. She hasn’t seen her boys and her Pops in over a month, and the joy of destroying Donnie in the Just Dance competition of their lives is the only motivation getting her through this. 

April sighs and stretches, cracking her back, before she hears a notification from her phone. Picking it up she sees, ‘nardo💙 sent an Instagram reel.’

She sits up in surprise. Why the hell is this idiot awake? And why is he sending her Instagram reels of all things?

‘awake???’ she texts back, worried. ‘why??’

Seen immediately, typing. ‘YOU awake why??’

‘homework’

‘yuck get away from me’

April picks at her bottom lip, watching the clock on her desk tick. If Leo’s awake at four in the morning, he hasn’t slept all night. She considers texting one of her other brothers to force him to sleep, but hopefully they would all be in bed by now, Donnie included. 

‘how much coffee did you have in the evening’

‘...’

‘Leo.’

‘okok four cups’

‘nardo you gotta be kidding me’. April rubs at her face, sighing. Leo knows better than to lie to his big sister, so he’s definitely telling her the truth, but it doesn’t make it any easier. Four whole cups of coffee?

‘did you try melatonin? helps me sleep a lot better nowadays’

‘apes do u even know me, obv melatonin doesn’t work on us’

‘damn’ 

‘ur taking it tho?? don’t take too much, not good for u’

‘yeah dum-dum, no sleep is not good for YOU have you thought about that?’

No response. Two minutes later, a funny reel. 

She huffs frustratedly, thinking, before finally deciding to call him on FaceTime, setting the phone against a textbook.

The face that greets her is so fucking worrying that April gapes, not responding to Leo’s raspy greeting. His eyes are completely bloodshot, face gaunt, red stripes practically completely purple now. 

“You look like shit.” She says, uncharacteristically blunt. Maybe the lack of sleep and physics is getting to her. How the hell does Donnie do this all the time?

Leo scowls, putting the phone down so all she sees is the dark ceiling of the kitchen. “If you just called me to insult me, I’m hanging up.”

“Sorry, sorry.” She raises a hand in surrender, pulling her notebook closer and picking up her pencil. “Science is turning my brain to soup, I lost my speaking filter. You’re still very pretty.”

A second, and Leo’s face comes back into view. “Promise?”

“Pinky promise.” She nods, smiling as Leo grins, as brightly as he can with fatigue coming off him in waves. “What are you up to?”

“This guy on YouTube is reviewing the older JJ movies, it’s a four hour long video. And I have Sour Patch Kids, so I’m happy.”

April bites back the hundreds of worried comments she comes up with, deciding to think a little more tactically. She doesn’t want to piss him off again, so telling him to sleep or pointing out his eye-bags is off the table. 

“You wanna hear about my homework? It’s so difficult and horrible, I hate it.”

“I respect your degree, I do, Apes, but how hard can journalism homework even be?”

“It’s physics, man, that’s the thing. I’m going to jump out of my window.” She groans, equations swimming behind her eyelids. “I’m like ninety percent sure if I tried explaining this to you I could bore you to sleep.”

Leo chuckles, but there’s something tired and morose in it. “I wouldn’t take that bet.”

She blinks at the bitter tone of his voice, but doesn’t call him out on it. There’s a lost look in his eyes as he stares off to the side, chewing slowly on his candy. Her big sister instinct rears its head immediately at that.

“Don’t worry about it, baby.” April assures him, deciding fuck it, opening up Chegg to find the answer to this last question so she can finish this as fast as possible. “I’ll be done in fifteen minutes. Why don’t you tell me what this random guy has to say about Pluto Vacation IV, and I’ll tell you how valid that is.”

By the time the sun rises, and Leo hangs up to go help Mikey make breakfast, April has turned in not only physics, but has finished all of the rest of her homework. She starts to pack, a plan ready in her mind.

–

They don’t let it happen a fifth time. 

Leo sighs, letting his head fall onto his bed, hiding his eyes from the fairy lights in his room. Normally, they look so pretty and aesthetic, but ever since this new bout of insomnia hit him, a lot of things have been bothering him more than usual. And he’s currently too exhausted to get up and turn it off on his own. 

He groans, reaching for his phone, because what else is he going to do? His brain is too tired for anything other than mindless scrolling, and if Raph asks him to train today he might just burst into tears. The time reads 12 P.M., a very productive time of day for the majority of planet Earth. The minority includes him apparently, as he pulls up one of his old blankets over his head, and settles in for an afternoon of TikTok.

The door to his train car opens quietly. Leo blinks, emerging from his nest to look up. 

Mikey stands at the doorway, sunshine smile on display. He sees his eyes scan his face, and the sunshine dims a bit, but he still says excitedly, “Hi, Lee! April just got back, we’re doing a sleepover!”

“Oh – oh yay!” His delayed response throws his act off a little. Don’t get him wrong, he is so happy his sister is back, it’s just he’d really rather not do a sleepover tonight where he has to spend another eight hours pretending to be asleep next to his peacefully resting siblings. “That’s great, I’ll be right there.”

Mikey nods but doesn’t leave, so Leo has to go through the excruciating process of forcing himself up and out of the room with a performative smile painted on his face. Mikey hooks his elbow with his, walking in step with him to the living room. 

He finds Raph and April talking, a bag carelessly dropped next to her feet. She catches sight of him and grins immediately, raising her arms. Leo can see the conscious effort it takes for her to not linger on his eye bags, he’s been needing a lot of that too lately.

“Hi, Apes.” He mumbles into her shoulder as she tightly squeezes him.

“Hi, Leo.” She replies warmly. “Missed you so much.”

A large hand rests on his shell, and he looks up to see Raph smile down at him. “Wanna join in on the hug fest, Raphie?”

“Ha, don’t worry, there’s gonna be plenty to go around in the sleepover soon.” He chuckles. 

“Soon?” Leo asks, and Raph points a thumb to the entrance. Leo turns around to see Donnie and Mikey walk in with a bunch of blankets and pillows in their arms. One of the spider limbs in Donnie’s battle shell is holding Raph’s largest teddy bear, the other holding his blue hoodie he couldn’t find in the morning. 

“We’re doing a sleepover now? It’s literally noon.”

“We’ve hit critical condition.” Donnie informs him primly, dropping the blankets in the middle of the floor. “You’ve been awake for too long.”

His mood sours immediately. He knows, okay? He’s aware that not sleeping for days at a time isn’t healthy, and he knows he looks like shit, but people don’t have to keep commenting on it. 

“Don’t pout.” Mikey wheedles into his side, giving him another squeeze. “We’re gonna help, I promise.”

“Right.” Leo says, disbelief clear in his voice, before something rose-scented smacks him in the face. “Hey!”

“You’re welcome.” Donnie responds, starting to move the furniture to make enough room for the blanket fort. “Your favorite hoodie, freshly washed with softener and your scent beads.”

Leo pulls it over his head, the familiar comforting smell easing some of his tension, the soft texture making him feel like he’s being swallowed whole. “Thanks.” He says quietly, hoping they can’t hear the croak in his voice. 

Donnie pauses in his ministrations for a millisecond before getting back to work with more gusto, him and Mikey setting up an impressive fort that could withstand five siblings. While Leo watches them, Raph taps him on his shoulder, and he’s offered a cup of freshly made chamomile and lavender tea, steam curling on top. The thoughtfulness almost makes him cry as he gives him a wobbly smile in return, taking a sip. It’s the perfect temperature, splash of milk and sweetened with honey, just how he likes it. 

He feels April at his back, gently untying the knot of his mask, carefully folding it and walking to his room to put it away. She comes back with his fuzzy Christmas socks.

“You guys.” Leo tries, feeling emotionally wrung out and sore. “You don’t have to do this.”

“Shut up.” Three turtles reply in unison, breaking out into chuckles. Raph guides him to the center of the fort, making him sit down and rest on the biggest pillow. He finishes his tea as Mikey puts the teddy bear under his other arm and April puts the socks on him, brain too fuzzy to protest. 

He jolts out of his fog when he feels something pressing down on him. He looks up to see Donnie tuck him in under his purple weighted blanket, the one he uses on his bad days. He’s awash with the clean scent of roses, as tears fill up in Leo’s eyes unbidden. He tries to blink them back. “Don…”

“Hush.” Donnie replies, quietly, and Leo sees the lights in the room have been dimmed, his other siblings wearing their pajamas and getting ready to pile. “Stop using your brain. It’s sleeping time now.”

“Wow, I never thought there’d be a day when Hamato Donatello would actually tell me to ‘stop using my brain’.” He croaks out.

Leo prepares for the obligatory joke about him not having a brain in the first place, but Donnie just gives him an amused look in return, speaking softly but matter-of-factly, “Your brain is hurting my twin. So stop using it.”

A ball of emotion lodges in his throat that keeps him from speaking out loud, so he just nods. He gets a head pat for his troubles that he’s too emotional to block away.

Eventually, Donnie lies down next to him, their arms pressed together. Mikey nestles into a ball on his other side, snuggling close. Raph settles behind their heads, turning to his side and curling around them all protectively. April throws her feet over their legs, playfully kicking him in the shin. 

Leo chokes on a laugh, tears soundlessly rolling onto the pillow. This has been one of the longest weeks of his life, hours in the middle of the night spent staring mindlessly at the ceiling, into the middle distance, into the New York skyline. The darkness seeping into his body, harsh, cold. A high pitched hum in his ears, heaviness in his eyes.

Right now though, he feels warm and loved and exhausted beyond belief. But not alone. Never alone. 

“Thanks, guys.” He finally whispers. 

Donnie gently bonks his head with his own, affection clear in the action. Mikey presses a loud kiss onto his bicep. “You’re welcome, big bro.”

Raph strokes his head. “Sleep, Leo.”

“We love you, Nardo.” April says, nudging his foot. “We got you.”

Leo smiles. He trusts them, they got him. He closes his eyes and pulls on his night mask. The demons of the night don’t stand a chance against the warm glow of his family. He finally falls asleep. 

[mckitterick]

Christofascist Republican calls LGBTQ people "filth" during public forum

The culture of hate among Christofascists recently led to the violent beating and subsequent death of Choctaw two-spirit teenager Nex Benedict in Oklahoma.

When questioned about how 50+ anti-LGBTQ bills might have affected this case, State Senator Tom Woods said,

“We are a Republican state - supermajority - in the House and Senate. I represent a constituency that doesn’t want that filth in Oklahoma.”

Several audience members clapped at his statement, while others appeared shocked.

“We are a religious state and we are going to fight it to keep that filth out of the state of Oklahoma because we are a Christian state - we are a moral state,” Woods said. “We want to ... let people be able to go to the faith they choose. We are a Republican state and I’m going to vote my district, and I’m going to vote my values, and we don’t want that in the state of Oklahoma.”

State Representative David Hardin added, “How you live your life personally, that’s between you and God... but what goes through our public schools - I will fall back on my faith. I want to make sure that at least the children in our public schools have that faith... what I want to make sure of is that our young children have the right to grow up with that faith."

After the forum, Woods reiterated his stance on the matter: "I support my constituency, and like I said, we’re a Christian state, and we are tired of having that shoved down our throat at every turn... I stand behind my statement, and I stand behind the Republican Party values."

When asked what he thought of Woods’ characterization of LGBTQ people as “filth,” State Senator Dewayne Pemberton said, “No comment.”

Again and again, today's christofascist Republicans (any other sort doesn't get elected these days) reveal that they want to indoctrinate public school kids into their own bigoted hatred, forcing children to hate anyone who doesn't subscribe to their narrow interpretation of their religious texts. Christofascists seek to impose their personal, misguided religious biases on the general public, including creating laws codifying hate and authoritarian control over the lives and bodies of everyone, not just others in their own religion.

Make no mistake, Nex Benedict's death was caused by christofascist indoctrination of the three girls who brutally beat Nex in that school bathroom. Nex Benedict's death was caused by the school failing to take their injuries seriously, by hate codified in Oklahoma state laws designed to harass LGBTQ folks and normalize bigotry against them, by Oklahoma Superintendent of Public Instruction Ryan Walters appointing hate-speech villain Chaya Raichik (responsible for "Libs of TikTok") to the Oklahoma Department of Education's Library Media Advisory Committee even though she doesn't live in the state (but he likes that she used Benedict's school and teacher for targeted hate). And on and on - it's a systematic attack on personal freedom and human rights - and the lives of queer folks.

Nex Benedict's death is exactly what christofascists seek through indoctrinating children into their hate that perpetuates bigotry into the future and forcing their religious fanaticism into the public sphere through unconstitutional laws built on hate and control.

Do you want to live in a theocracy dictated by those who narrowly interpret their personal religious texts to promote hate? Because as long as citizens fail to speak out against these harbingers of civilizational collapse, they'll only feel more and more emboldened to turn hate crimes into victories.

We must not let another of our people become victim of systemic bigotry. To protect children and end generational indoctrination, we must fire all public officials who subscribe to christofascist hatred and, when appropriate, prosecute them for the violence they incite.

If we fail to end the careers of hateful christofascists, we fail our children.

[qqueenofhades]

What do you think of the movement to vote "uncommitted" in the primary? Personally I think it's a good idea as a protest vote, while not "allowing Trump to win" since it's, ya know, the primary. You're voting for "the Democrat you want to be the candidate for president" not who you actually want to be president. Most of the arguments I've seen against it seem to forget primaries exist...

Well, since you came to me and presumably do want my honest opinion on this topic, I'll share it with you. However, this will also be very blunt and candid, including some things which I haven't yet said in the 4+ months since the whole Israel/Hamas situation kicked off, and therefore also frustrated. This frustration should not be read as/taken as being directed at you personally, but since you're the conduit for this question, that's just something I want to highlight.

So. Why should you vote for Biden in the primary, and not "uncommitted" or whatever else?

First of all, what I desperately want to ask all these self-righteous VOTE UNCOMMITTED IN THE PRIMARY TO SEND BIDEN A MESSAGE types is: what exactly the fuck do you want this message to be, and what action do you expect Biden will take as a result? Is this actually based on an expectation of what he can/and or will actually do, or is it just a froth of misguided Online Leftist "rah rah this Bad Thing Happening Is All Biden's Fault," as we also notably went through when Roe was overturned by the Trump-stacked SCOTUS selected precisely for the purpose of overturning Roe? My god, the amount of bad "THIS IS BIDEN/THE DEMOCRATS' FAULT" posts that appeared, and are still circulating on the particularly idiotic corners of this site. Nothing could ever be Trump/the Republicans' fault in that case; it was the same old same old "DEMOCRATS DON'T CARE ENOUGH TO STOP THIS!!!" puerile fantasy. That's what we are getting now with Israel/Hamas. This isn't Hamas's fault for attacking Israel on October 7 (god forbid; the online left loves Hamas) and it isn't even the state of Israel and Netanyahu's fault for responding with full-scale genocide on Gaza. Or it is, somehow, but not so much that Biden personally couldn't magically reach in and stop it "if he really wanted to." I'm sick and fucking tired of this bullshit sixth-grade bad-faith disingenuous approach to playing Super Moral Social Justice Yahtzee and refusing to acknowledge the thousands of complex factors at play, especially when it involves blaming literally anyone other than Biden, personally (just like the Trump cultists, for whom "IT'S BIDEN'Z FAULT" is the beginning and end of their political theory, just like the Online Leftists). I'm sure this will get me called a genocide apologist by the Very Smart Moral Twitter Thinker types, but I don't think "Biden has failed to magically single-handedly solve this crisis, which stems from one of the most major and long-running issues in post-WWII and indeed pre-WWII world history, in four months" is actually a good reason to vote against him.

Likewise: withholding your vote might make more sense as a strategy if Biden was still only blindly supporting Israel and refusing to do anything to pressure them, which is demonstrably untrue. I know it's hard for some of these people to actually read the news and/or anything outside their ultra-curated Twitter feed, but it's been well-reported and well-documented that he is. If the US was directly involved in the bombing campaign on Gaza, sure, tell Biden that you will vote uncommitted to increase pressure on him to pull out. None of that is actually true, and the "information" about Biden's action in re: Gaza on both Twitter and Tumblr is basically just entirely malicious lies. So again: what message are you sending when you decide to be all precious and announce you're not voting for him? You don't want him to pressure Israel? You're willing to blow this up entirely and increase the media nonsense about BIDEN WEAK DEMOCRATS DIVIDED and give Trump an opening to exploit? You really want to announce to the Trump/Putin/Netanyahu axis of evil that their anti-Biden propaganda is working (since all three of them are working as hard as they fucking can to get Biden out of office, and as someone who opposes all three of them, I think this is a good idea to vote for Biden!) and they need to hammer harder on this wedge issue? Because that's all your oh-so-moral Uncommitted vote is doing. It's not a protest. It's not leverage. It is the withdrawing of leverage. If you want Biden in office so he can be pressured to listen to you and take action that you agree with, you will vote for him. Yes, in the primary. Yes, when it's not directly against Trump.

You want a ceasefire, you say? GREAT! WE ALL WANT A CEASEFIRE AND/OR ACTUAL PEACE AND RECOGNITION OF A PALESTINIAN STATE! That's in fact why you should be busting your fucking ass to make sure Biden gets re-elected, and to give him a strong show of support in the primary. Biden is the only candidate with a credible long-term (and like, baseline functional sane adult) plan for Gaza. Biden is the one who has been pressuring Netanyahu in every single contact to tone it down and stop acting like an insane murderous maniac and therefore torching any remains of sympathy for the attack Israel suffered in October. Biden is the one who has his entire diplomatic team working on high-level contacts with the Israeli government and the Hamas representatives via Qatar, while sufficiently threatening Iran to back down from frothing at the mouth to destroy Israel (once again, just like the rest of the antisemitic western left). Biden is the one who is pushing for this not to be World War III, and yet we get Baby's First Social Justice Activist screaming at him for being GENOCIDE JOE and blaming him personally for not, as I keep putting it, shapeshifting into Netanyahu's body and making this stop. "He should publicly call for a ceasefire!" Or, and this is just a suggestion, he should DO HIS FUCKING JOB and continue to work on serious problems that don't have instant socially media marketable catchphrases and won't come with instant gratification. Also, please tell me how you plan to get both Hamas and Israel to accept the same terms for a ceasefire, abide by it, and do exactly what Big Daddy Biden told them, because you, the dedicated anti-western anti-imperialist, think that's the best course of action?

Like. I mean. As vice president and now as president, Biden is actually one of the least foreign-intervention-happy leaders the US has ever had. He was originally against the Abbottabad raid to take out Osama bin Laden in 2011; he wound down the overseas drone assassination program (at which the Online Leftists screamed bloody murder at Obama, ignored in Trump, and then refused to give Biden any credit for ending) to almost nothing, he pulled the US out of Afghanistan, and even though he's been supporting Ukraine in its fight against Russia, he's also been extremely slow and cautious (in my opinion, too slow and cautious) at giving them all the military hardware they need, even before this latest blockade of aid in the House by Putin's favorite little bitch Mike Johnson. He has already presided over a historic shift in US policy toward Israel, in terms of conditioning the use of lethal aid, imposing reporting requirements, starting to criticize them publicly, and calling for the recognition of a Palestinian state and more humanitarian aid to get into Gaza. Yet in the Online Leftists' mind, because he is not personally out there Captain America-ing away the Israeli bombs and/or calling for Israel to be totally destroyed "from the river to the sea" as the Tumblr activists are fond of using no matter how often Jews ask them to stop, there is nothing he's actually doing! GENOCIDE JOE!!!!! Like, I thought the anti-western anti-American crowd thought all overseas American influence was evil (but all overseas Russian and/or Chinese influence is fine). When Biden actually doesn't recklessly intervene in foreign conflicts like Kennedy/Johnson/Nixon/Reagan/Bush 1/Bush 2/pretty much every American president in the latter half of the twentieth century, you'd think that would get him plaudits? NAH.

"Biden should stop selling Israel weapons without Congressional approval!" Okay, sure, he should. Which he did one time, and he also repeatedly promised to veto and/or not pass any only-Israel aid package that didn't also help Ukraine and Taiwan. He's also not beholden to the frothing antisemitic Online Leftists position that Israel should just lie down and let all of its citizens be killed and its state wiped from existence. Like. We also remember that Jewish voters exist in America, right? And that Jewish lives are something which are repeatedly and demonstrably under threat in the rest of the world, including from Hamas and the Houthis (who are genuinely terrible people and the western left's warm embrace of them as principled anti-Israel actors is all we need to know about their inherent brainrot and moral vacancy). We know that maybe going full masks-off antisemite (which Biden isn't going to do anyway, for any number of reasons) isn't the greatest plan and nothing to which you should be conditioning your vote? Likewise, please tell me how you plan to make Congress (especially the GOP-led clown car House) "do what Biden wants," since you're still beholden to that being the be-all-and-end-all of moral action? Or how you account for Congress at all, and not just think The President is An Almighty King?

Aside from all this, I am sick to my fucking back teeth of the Precious Moral Princesses (gender neutral) who have spent four years lying about everything Biden has done. We had the personally blaming him for Roe ending (he could unilaterally overturn SCOTUS if he really wanted!) We had the endless bashing about student debt, only to ignore him actually making the most major effort to forgive student debt in all the post-Reagan years. We have had a complete ignoring and/or distortion of his domestic policy accomplishments, which are some of the most momentous since FDR and LBJ. We have had an utter ignoring, revision, and downplaying of the damage Trump did in one term and how very much worse his second would be. We have had to endure "WELL YOU CAN'T ASK ME TO VOTE FOR BIDEN" at every single second for every single thing, because this is such a terrible onerous thing to ask them to lift one single fucking finger to give us some more time to come up with a better solution. And yet, as astutely pointed out by one of my anons yesterday, they utterly don't care whether the obvious outcome of this action is to help Trump get back into power. Apparently that's not a moral reach too far, but straining their delicate tender moral sensibilities to fucking do the goddamn bare minimum to help us out -- both in America and around the world -- no, no. We can't have that.

Like. These people allegedly want a ceasefire, and they want it to come about by asking literally nothing more of them then posting snide anti-Biden diatribes on social media. That's the extent of the effort they're willing to put in. They can't even trouble themselves to take the first step of voting for people who want to address this crisis in a constructive way. So yeah, I have a hard time believing this is anything deeply felt in regard to opposing genocide, and just wants what makes them look morally superior. Also: I don't care if your feelings are genuinely pure and strong and you obviously oppose what's happening in Gaza (we all do!) and want it to end. In that case, why the fuck aren't you throwing your support (yes! Even in the primary!) behind the one guy who's actually working to fix it and not just posting empty platitudes on Twitter? It likewise does not excuse you from the harmful consequences of your rhetoric and actions, if you decide that the best way to act on your deep-seated and genuine desire to stop the genocide is just to blindly bash Biden all day every day. Not voting for Biden in the primary does not excuse the fact that this election is against Trump and everything horrible that he represents, and that we are in this situation largely because the online left has learned literally fucking nothing from 2016 and is eager to do it all over again. Not voting for Biden in the primary does not give you a special Gold Star Moral Activist sticker announcing that you were too virtuous to engage in the process now, but if you're sufficiently placated, you maybe will do it in November. Miss me with that bullshit. I've spent eight years pleading with people to help us fix this mess, by -- yes! engaging with the flawed process that makes partial changes!!! -- and all I hear is that same fucking nonsense. That is a large part of why this response is so steamed.

Anyway. In short, I don't think voting "uncommitted" is a good idea, I think it only helps Trump in the short and long term, I think it protests nothing, I think it represents the same old tired anti-voting schlock that I have had more than fucking enough of, and I don't endorse it by any means. However, you will see that while I can strongly and unequivocally give you my opinion that it is a bad idea, I cannot actually reach through the screen, take control of your body, and force you to obey me one way or the other. So maybe, just maybe, Biden can't do the same with Netanyahu. Weird.