Headcanon that Leo really loved to give his family massages growing up. We know that he’s good at them from the episode “You Got Served” and we know he likes spas and relaxation and getting massages himself from when he tried to get these in “Bad Hair Day” and from when Donnie made a tennis ball massage machine in “Smart Lair.”
So I think it’d be cute to think that maybe one day Leo overheard Splinter complaining about a bad back and immediately Leo thinks back to a comic or movie or something he saw where a massage helped so he offers to give one and it actually ends up helping Splinter.
Then April swings by the Lair at a later time and mentions her back hurting because of her backpack from school and Leo’s all like “I gotcha!”
From there, he occasionally manages to convince Donnie to sit for one because Donnie’s shrimp posture does not help him any (Leo pokes fun at how sandpaper-y Donnie’s shell is despite knowing it’s always like that and Donnie smacks him for it.) Donnie usually prefers hand massages instead however as all his typing and inventing adds up over time, and shoulder massages too once he starts wearing his battle shells more. Leo also figures out how to give massages to Raph and Mikey’s shells as well, though it’s a struggle at first to not scratch his hands on Raph’s spikes.
I think since Leo has such bad luck with spas and the like, he tries giving himself massages (though it’s not as helpful.) Like, with how his abilities work his legs are probably always aching from his portal jumping and one foot landings, so maybe he branches past back massages out of a need to help his own aches too. (Though he really wants a shell massage himself, the same way he’d give them…the one time with Donnie’s tennis ball massage machine was but a short moment of what Leo’s been missing out on and what he’ll continue missing out on…)
I don’t know, I just think it’d be cute to think Leo could have honed his massaging skill this way in order to help out his family (and also partially because he wants a massage himself.)
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vampire bats share mouthfuls of blood to other bats they’re close to if they weren’t able to feed and now i need old vampire!ghost sharing a bloody kiss with fledgling!soap, giving him mouthfuls of blood bc his fresh fangs are too sensitive to bite with
it’s been so long since he was turned that ghost’s forgotten the deep ache that comes with growing fangs and he almost worries when johnny goes to bite into the meal he’s brought him only to whimper and pull back; only the slightest pinpricks of a bite left in the man’s neck, barely enough to bring blood to the surface
it’s only when johnny whines and massages at his gums that ghost realises his oversight; crooning at his sweet mate in reassurance. he’s not upset that he couldn’t feed, at the unintentional rejection of his offering. he’ll make the pain stop
ghost pulls the man to his mouth and sinks in his fangs, sucking in a heavy mouthful and drops the now paralysed prey back to his feet; his throat steadily gushing with blood and spilling over his body
he cups johnny’s face, looking into his eyes, teary with pain and hunger, and purses his lips to carefully drip the blood into his mouth. the pain immediately vanishes from his eyes, replaced with pure bliss as he opens his mouth wide; curling his tongue to catch every drop. ghost presses his mouth to his in a hungry, blood-filled kiss; tongues twining together as they share the taste
johnny sucks the last of it from his lips and ghost guides him down to lap at the prey’s neck; licking up the blood he was too weak to draw himself. he’s ravenous with it, his whole face covered in red as he licks up the spill and suckles at ghost’s bite
ghost’s filled with an overwhelming pride at having provided for his mate in an even deeper way than just hunting for him. he spilled the blood johnny’s drinking; fed him in the most intimate way their kind knows and he’ll do it a hundred times over for his love
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Abt victors being complex - that's why my personal unpopular headcanon is that most of them didn't have positive feelings about Katniss or Peeta. Because let's be real for a moment, even if you're the nicest person in the world or the most broken and beaten down by the Capitol and the Games: you would think "why wasn't I enough? Why didnt people care enough about me to riot? Why do I have to go through this hell again? Why did they get to break the rules?" And tbh, KP's naivety as victors, from that perspective, would be absolutely grating, they never really seem to Get It until its too late and everyone else has to pay for their mistakes.
yes!!! this!!!! you get it!!!!!
katniss and peeta never had to go through the normal Victor Experience with the pain of mentoring or victor prostitution or the companionship within the victors. they just don’t Get It, like you said. and that’s not their fault!! the capitol shows these people hanging off capitol citizens arms, oohing and awing at everything in their path every year, fully convincing everyone that the victors are happy. that they want to be here, away from their home and families hanging off of strange men and women’s arms. they depict the perfect victors, who smile and wave and sign autographs. victors like chaff and haymitch get about five seconds of screen time before being pushed aside because they’re not interesting, they’re not the focus, they’re not complying with the image we are depicting. they don’t conform with the images we are showing to our citizens.
i truly believe that there was no way all of the victors liked katniss and peeta. actually, i don’t think many of the victors liked katniss and peeta. as in, there was probably like two that genuinely liked them. and also, from their perspective, these are the reason they’re going back into the arena!! none of the victors wanted to do that!!!
we really need more complex victors representation in this fandom…
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I need Eddie's jealous moments!!!!!
yk... for research
Eddie once came home from a three-week stint playing shows in middle-of-nowhere Ohio to find a man sitting on his couch. Steve was newly diagnosed and newly moved in, and Eddie was prepared for anything.
Except for a man sitting on his couch. A very distinctly Tommy H-shaped man, sitting way too comfortably and way too close to his boyfriend. On his couch.
Eddie was expecting throw pillows not – “Hagan.”
“Munson.”
Eddie wasn’t due back until tomorrow and Steve is surprised to see him, and he’s happy. He lights up like Christmas, but this is not the homecoming that Eddie was expecting. He still gets a hug, but it doesn’t linger and it doesn’t lead to where he wants them to go (the bedroom). Steve awkwardly pats him on the shoulder when he pulls away like they’re bros.
It’s kind of obvious that Steve had some of his jock friends from high school over to watch the game because the people on tv are talking about sports and there’s a letterman jacket too big for Steve or Tommy forgotten on the kitchen floor. The fact that Tommy is the only one that remains irks Eddie though.
It sets his teeth on edge, especially when Steve settles back on the couch and Tommy refills the space next to him like they were still friends. Tommy throws his arm over Steve’s shoulder, absently touching his hair the way that he always did in school. Steve might not notice it, but Eddie does.
It ain’t subtle. Not to Eddie, who knows what it looks like to be in love with Steve Harrington.
He’s not dumb. Eddie might be out of town just as much as he’s in it nowadays, but he knows what the rumors are about why Steve is living here. He also knows that if he was the one harboring a crush on a boy since grade school and there was even the slightest change that he might be gay than Eddie would be here too. Testing the waters.
Too bad for Tommy though because this is Eddie’s pool.
Despite the loud and obnoxious presence pressed up against Steve’s side and Steve awkwardly reintroducing them to each other, Eddie still asks, “You have people over?”
“Wayne said it was okay.”
“Course it is,” Eddie grinned. “You live here, sweetheart.”
Steve tells Eddie how Tommy was home from college for the long weekend and about the game of telephone that led to him hosting his friends. He even tells Eddie how he recorded the game on tape to watch with Wayne later. Eddie listens and he maybe agreed to watch the rerun with them, but he’s waiting. He’s watching Tommy squeeze the back of Steve’s neck and make some joke that’s not funny, and he’s waiting.
And it happens.
Steve asks Eddie how his shows went, and Eddie grins. He’s not an insecure man. Not about Steve and not about their relationship. Tommy can make all the moves he wants, Eddie knows where Steve’s sleeping tonight. So, he grins.
He startles them both with a running jump onto the coffee table and he takes up all the attention in the room, Tommy left an afterthought. Eddie regales his time in the far off land of Ohio. He paints a perilous picture of nights driving through cornfields and cows like an adventure. He recounts their shows like he’s slaying a dragon, and he draws Steve in like he knew he would.
He physically draws Steve closer, crouching down in front of him and putting his hands on his shoulders. One hand slides up to caress his cheek, and Steve leans into the touch. Eddie pulls him forward until he’s barely on the couch at all and Tommy is left leaning against nothing, and then Eddie pulls him to his feet.
High school Steve probably would’ve sneered at the Eddie of it all, but this Steve – his Steve – laughs and lets Eddie pull him where the story needs to go. He drags Steve through the living room as he weaves a tale in movement about Corroded Coffin’s harrowing battle against the one lone preacher protesting devil music.
Their feet get tangled together when Eddie zigs and Steve zags, and they end up toppled into Wayne’s favorite chair. Steve laughs in that way that squishes his whole face and he tells him without thought, “Missed you.”
Eddie knows that those are words that Tommy wants to hear. He knows the taste of a friendship lost and he knows that Tommy wants this, but this isn’t high school anymore. Tommy can’t just take what he wants. It’s a deep and settling smugness playing on Eddie’s lips because this his and he says, “I know.”
Tommy leaves with very little fanfare. Forest Hills may not be a castle, but it’s Eddie’s domain and Steve is a very captive audience. Tommy, at least, knows when to admit defeat.
He’s standing on the gravel outside of the trailer when he says, “I’ll drive you to that appointment Monday. What time was it?”
Before Steve could say anything, Eddie’s throwing his arm over Steve’s shoulder. He gives Tommy a grin that’s all sharp corners as he threads his fingers into Steve’s hair and tugs on it, “Don’t worry about it, Tommy-boy. I’ll handle it.”
Eddie only kinda feels like an asshole when he smudges Tommy’s name off the calendar stuck to the fridge later that night, but then he gets into his bed for the first time in three weeks. Steve curls up closer and Eddie finds it really hard to care about anything else.
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