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trashytoastboi · 6 months

Note

Can I request headcanons of Luffy, Zoro, Sanji and Ace with a sleepy head S/O? They just love sleeping and taking naps.

Hiya! Sure thing! My apologies for the long wait on your request and hope you enjoy ~

Headcanons: Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, Ace with Sleepy head S/O – They just love sleeping and taking naps

> (Gender Neutral) <

Monkey D. Luffy

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🍖 Luffy could always find {Name} in their favorite nap spot. They had developed little napping corners, all throughout various places on the ship. Some were cozy, others unusual. Luffy initially found it to be entertaining like a game every time he had to seek out another new place that {Name} dubbed as their sleeping spot. He had even adopted some to be his own sleeping corners that he would share a refreshing nap or two with {Name} especially after a big meal. He didn't understand how one could sleep so often but nevertheless, {Name} had their moments of energy. Although everyone could agree it was an unusual match up considering how low energy {Name} is compared to the ever energetic Luffy.

🍖 Luffy loves that {Name} is so trusting of him that he could move them around in their sleep and instinctively they’ll know it's him and won't wake nor stir. Simply entrust themselves to him. That trust is a precious thing to Luffy, and he would never seek to betray it. Out of curiosity they had tested if it worked with anyone else on the crew and with the exception of Chopper, no one else was able to even touch {Name} without waking them up. Knowing that they don’t stir or get disturbed Luffy is still always careful when handling them while sleeping.

🍖 It goes without saying that naps are a daily occurrence, {Name} enjoys napping with Luffy. It’s a two in one, they get to sleep and spend time with their beloved. How could they possibly pass that up? Especially after a delicious meal served by Sanji, a satisfied stomach makes the eyes heavy. {Name} already heads to their spot of the day and Luffy follows. I mean nothing beats a post meal nap, and it’s only got all the upsides. He does find it surprising that {Name} can easily sleep more than Zoro but when you’re tired, you're tired. He’s understanding of that given the amount of times he would see Ace just fall asleep in the middle of things. He wouldn't even wait until after the meal until he was passing out.

🍖 Luffy has tested how deeply they sleep. He’s poked, prodded, tickled, raised a ruckus and yet they slept through it all. Honestly you’d need that kind of deep sleep to survive the craziness of the Straw-Hat crew. He also finds it adorable how they koala to him. If they sense that Luffy is near they’ll stretch, shuffle and pull him into a surprise snuggle. Which 99% of the time also results in Luffy deciding to take a nap too.

🍖 Luffy can tolerate a lot, but there are some sleep habits that just don’t fly with him. He can tolerate the blanket stealing, snoring and cold feet. But the sleep talking- specifically sleep talking about food is just one of the worst habits {Name} has. It makes Luffy so unbearably hungry that he has to go and find food as soon as possible, even if it means getting through Sanji and the padlocked fridge.

🍖 {Name’s} sleeping habits, believe it or not have actually gotten a lot better. One of the trickiest things to deal with, was {Name} falling asleep in the middle of fights. One second they’re dominating, next someone is yelling to rescue them before they’re injured because they decided to stop, drop and nap right on the spot. The only saving grace was that their adversary was so stunned that they just stopped fighting momentarily, which gave Luffy an opportunity to save his partner and take them to safety. Which usually entailed tossing them as gently as he could to some random corner.

Roronoa Zoro

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⚔️ Zoro never thought he’d meet someone who shares his need to nap. If not more so, he appreciates that they understand. Who can refuse the true beauty of a good solid nap, you wake refreshed and energized, sometimes a little hungry but right as rain. Sleep was the magic cure all, and {Name} embodied that. When awake they were sleepy, yawning and dazed as if they were constantly on the verge of going to bed. Zoro finds it charming in his way, and {Name’s} constant bedhead is something he also finds quite adorable. He’s even gotten to the point of being able to rate the quality of their naps based on their bed hair. A neat little party trick. Not that he could say he’s met someone that sleeps that match, so he likens his partner to a cat because that’s the only creature that comes to his mind that naps as much as {Name}

⚔️ All of Zoro’s napping spots became {Name’s} napping spot and underwent a metamorphosis, to become extra comfortable. A whole upgrade, things were far more comfortable than Zoro thought possible. {Name} had the magic touch, Zoro swears that he had never in his life ever slept that comfortably. His partner was genuinely happy that they could make his naps, along with theirs a little more peaceful and accommodating. Hell, even Franky swore left and right that they must use sorcery because he couldn’t see HOW it made any sense. {Name} has often said that to understand the art of sleep, one must sleep a lot.

⚔️ Zoro wasn’t much of a cuddler, not at first at least. He would fall asleep his usual way, on his back with his hands behind his head. Sometimes he’d be holding his swords and other times he’d just lay on his side on the deck. {Name} would scoot, shuffle and shift until they were snug against him, comfortably and using Zoro’s chest as their pillow. They said it was the best pillow and it was hard to nap without. Eventually Zoro got so used to them, that he just always fell asleep expecting {Name} to eventually join him. Oddly enough Zoro discovered he was quite the big fan of snuggling. Having them in his arms, and feeling the warmth of another person was so comforting. Unless there was a heatwave, being the only exception when {Name} didn’t cuddle up with him.

⚔️ Zoro never knew whether to be impressed, entertained or creeped out by the fact that {Name} could hold full conversations in their sleep. They’d said it’s all basic and autopilot answers. There were plenty of times when they weren’t supposed to be sleeping and at least being able to answer questions and speak saved them a lot. If someone tried to wake them they would simply reply “I’m not sleeping, just resting my eyes.” The most common excuse in the book is that someone would ask a second question and [Name} would respond, even going as far as being able to make small talk. All for the preservation of a good nap..

⚔️ Constricting. Zoro absolutely detested this strange sleep habit of his partners. For literally no reason, their cuddles would turn into crushing death grip, strangle holds and gentle arms turned into constricting snakes that would have Zoro being crushed. He thought it was related to dreams, nope. Come hell or high water, good dreams or bad. {Name} would get these random moments when they would just tighten their grip and send Zoro into mild panic until he wakes them up or slips out of their hold. Now it’s just a thing that happens and he handles it easily, the first few times however were nothing short of terrifying.

⚔️ Well Zoro has had his fair share of badly timed naps, during a crisis when he’s napping so soundly. But one thing he wishes {Name} would work on, is having no sense of crisis. Mid fight and they’re eepy? Sleep. The amount of fights he’s had to undertake with {Name} slung over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. If not that, then falling asleep in the bath and literally fearing for his partner drowning because they decided to take a quick nap in the bathtub.

Sanji

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🍽 Cute, so cute, adorable- precious. Sanji has many adjectives to explain his partner, not that they ever do any justice because {Name} exceeds them. He thinks their sleepiness is adorable. Sounds odd, but seeing how they yawn, eyes barely open and they waddle towards Sanji to hug him and wish him a good morning, nuzzling into his chest as the warmth lulls them back to sleep. Sanji is literally trembling from how cute that is. “{Name-chan} You should go back to bed.” He helps them back to bed, and even prepares the usual. {Name} gets an exemption from the dining table to enjoy a leisurely breakfast in bed, benefits when one’s boyfriend is the chef.

🍽Absolutely adores what a snuggle bug they are. Sanji loves it. If he’s cooking they’ll usually hug him, leaning into him while he’s busy. They’re half asleep mumbling half asleep answers, occasionally being fed bites to taste test while Sanji deciphers and translates based on their hums and mumbles. If he’s sitting down, they want to use his lap as a pillow, if in bed, they’re snuggling him. Sometimes they intentionally seek Sanji out, pouting until he agrees to join them in a nap just so they can cuddle him. He loves the affection.

🍽 {Name} has gotten Sanji into the habit of taking naps too, in the small time gap after lunch and before dinner. Sanji originally didn’t see the appeal, only if he had a poor night's sleep, then he’d do it for a boost of energy. Ever since {Name}, naps were his daily ritual. His little bit of me time, and thankfully he convinced {Name} to sleep in relatively normal places. Some of their previous places were questionable if not downright dangerous. One long lecture later, they shuffled around until napping spots got Sanji approved.

🍽 Sanji discovered the greatest joy he has. {Name} who is always extra ravenous after waking up from a nap. They say food always tastes better after a nap and eat whatever Sanji serves up with such enthusiasm that it genuinely touches his heart. He loves being able to cook and prepare light meals, snacks, anything they crave really after a particularly good nap. Even with their sleepy and low energy selves they express such clear excitement for whatever Sanji cooks up.

🍽 Sanji has very little to complain about when sharing a bed with them at night, the only thing he’ll probably say was tricky to get used to was how much {Name] moves around in their sleep. They change sleeping positions every so often, occasionally banishing the pillow from the bed unintentionally or throwing the blanket off, Sanji always wakes up to return their pillow and cover them again. This happens a few times a night, even if they’re cuddling sometimes {Name} will very abruptly change their sleeping position and smack Sanji in the face, giving him a nosebleed. (Oh the irony)

🍽 Sanji was wholly curious about what would happen should {Name} not sleep as much for a day. Satisfying his curiosity they didn’t nap and it was hard. They were so groggy and tired it made them sluggish. They grew irritable beyond belief, and grumpy. They would hug Sanji everytime they walked past but instead of enjoying it, they would leave almost immediately saying it would make them sleepy. Sanji knew that naps were like snickers to his partner. Because {Name} wasn’t themselves without having a nap.

Portgas D. Ace

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🔥 Ace is very high energy, he is always in go mode. Ironically until he has those sudden naps that recharge him for his next bout. {Name} found that relatable and cute on Ace’s behalf. Meeting while he napped in his soup probably wouldn’t make the best first impression to most. {Name} reassured him it's quite alright. It happens to them often too. Ace took it as a joke, not exactly knowing that it was almost the truth. {Name} is so sleepy all the time, that a couple of instances of falling asleep in their food was actually pretty commonplace. Ace thinks it’s cute though.

🔥 {Name} loves sleeping with Ace, he’s always warm and loves cuddling as much as they do. Ace enjoys seeing them so peaceful and undisturbed, he strokes their head to calm them and it works. It soothes {Name}, anytime they’re with Ace and he starts doing that, it’s guaranteed that they will fall asleep. He knows it too, he doesn’t mind if they fall asleep though. Ace takes it as a sign of their trust in him, enough to fall asleep near him and entrust them with their safety. That trust is something precious to Ace even if it stems from something like sleeping near him, he still values it.

🔥 {Name} will occasionally ‘kidnap’ Ace to join in their afternoon naps. One minute he’s socializing with the crew, the next {Name} is sprouting up out of nowhere trying to drag him to their favorite napping spot, which of course is decided at the time. In consideration of a few key factors, such as the weather, the sun, the wind, comfort factor, and {Name’s} mood of the day. Do they want an indoor nap? Outdoor? Is it cold or hot?

🔥 One of the most entertaining things for the crew to witness is Ace trying to escape from {Name} after they’ve fallen asleep. Him trying to stealthily slip out of their grasp and every time they stir, threatening to wake up he freezes. Holds his breath in this game of red light, green light until he’s finally free. Eventually he shuffles a pillow closer to act as his body double as {Name} snuggles into it and goes on sleeping without a care in the world.

🔥 An annoying sleep habit that {Name} has is ‘mood swings’ in a sense, one minute they want cuddles, snuggles and fine, the next, they want their own space and roll away from Ace or violently boot him out of bed (All unintentionally), Ace never knows when the mood will shift. One moment he snuggles, the next he dodges an elbow, a knee, a foot and resorts to sleeping on the cold side of the bed, banished to the forsaken realms until [Name} is rolling back towards him.

🔥 Ace learned to deal with his adorable partner who just curls up and sleeps on any comfy surface, even if it’s an inappropriate place that could potentially be dangerous. The amount of times he believed his heart would give out when he saw half of the strange and perilous places his partner fell asleep in. Ace had the tendency to worry about them and made {Name} promise that even if they’re tired they have to hold on endure until they get to a comfortable and safe location above all.

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conarcoin · 2 years

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So Elon bought Twitter. I'm honestly not gonna push away Twitter newcomers, but if you're in the MCYT fandom you need to understand that the social etiquette and expectations and culture here are very different than over on Twitter. So as someone who's been an active part of mcytblr for two years now, I'd like to offer some thoughts and advice!

One: Shipping. MCYT communities on Tumblr have always tended to lean more tolerant towards shipping of roleplay characters due to the idea that this is a space for fans primarily. The creators who visit or actively use Tumblr like Eret and Martyn understand that this is a fan space primarily, and don't bother us for the content we make, and we don't bother them with it.

The number one worst thing you could do is share shipping content with creators who have not asked for it. This is a huge social faux pas here. Secondly, on the other end — writing callout posts for shippers here isn't gonna fly. Even for RPF shippers and people who may ship boundary-breaking pairings, our default is usually to not engage with these people rather than publicly call them out. It makes the space a healthier place for everyone and makes it much less likely that CCs may come across content they are uncomfortable with. It's also considered a social faux pas to ask CCs their opinions and boundaries on shipping, since that's bringing it up when they didn't ask!

Speaking of shipping, people typically don't mind you maintagging ship content so long as you also tag it as shipping so people can filter it. For Hermitcraft the tag is hermitshipping, Life Series has trafficshipping, and the lesser known DSMP tag is dsmpshipping.

Two: Reblogging. This is something a lot of newer users tend to struggle with. There is no algorithm on Tumblr, at least not one that works, so content creators rely on you reblogging their work in order for it to spread. If you see a fic or piece of art you enjoy, please reblog it! I often reblog art for MCYT fandoms I'm not even personally in.

Three: Tagging (again). There are a wide variety of tags you can use for your content! The most common tags you'll want to use are "mcyt" and "mcytblr", and any relevant series, pairing/group or character/CC names. However, please don't use the tag "minecraft"! Minecraft has an entirely separate fanbase on Tumblr that we co-exist with and have some overlap with, but don't necessarily appreciate seeing MCYT content in their tags. Any tag with "minecraft" in it is also a no-no, such as "minecraft youtubers" or "minecraft championships". Please use shorthands!

Four: Opinions on MCYT drama tend to be very different here than they are on Twitter. For instance, you should assume by default that most bloggers here either like or are completely neutral towards "problematic CCs" like Schlatt. But also, we tend to be very against spreading anything originating from leakers, and we also tend to not be fond of making posts "holding CCs accountable" for things they did years ago. Generally, mcytblr prefers to be a more drama-free community, and if you do engage in discourse, many would appreciate you tagging it as such!

Five: CCs do not need you to babysit them.

Generally speaking you will see a lot of jokes and memes on mcytblr that wouldn't fly on Twitter, and it is generally looked down upon to try to speak on behalf of CCs personal boundaries — they are grown adults, and you are a stranger! Calling out or harassing people for "breaking boundaries" is mostly just going to get you looked at strangely, especially if you don't have a source for your claims. Most of us will stop doing something if asked, but we don't need stans to tell us to! CCs can speak for themselves when uncomfortable.

Six: Most mcytblr blogs don't want CC notices. There are quite a few CCs who are active here, but the community is chill with them as they don't tend to talk about us elsewhere and allow us to do our own thing. We do not, however, like encouraging CCs to join Tumblr or to follow us or reblog our posts — many people here actually prefer being out of sight of CCs and many of us consider it rude to seek out attention from CCs outside of sending the occasional ask.

Please treat CCs kindly and don't gawk at them like you just saw a celebrity on the street — the ones who are active here are just Tumblr users like the rest of you! Seeing Eret reblog fanart or respond to an ask isn't something to point out.

While we joke about Twitter users joining, we don't actually have anything against you guys, it's just that we've built a very different community here and ask that you respect it and the etiquette we've come to establish! Thank you, and I hope you enjoy your stay on mcytblr ^_^

#long post #ok to rb #mcyt #mcytblr

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moodymisty · 8 days

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Author's note: Inspired by this post, and @kit-williams life changing addition

Relationships: Mortarion/Fem!Reader

Warnings: Some NSFW references

“Care to play a game with me brother?”

Sanguinius looks to Guilliman with a smile that he does not return.

“Not particularly. Though I imagine this wasn’t actually a question.”

Sanguinius smiles wider, before pointing someone out among the crowd of bodies.

“Do you see that young lady over there, in the purple?” Guilliman spots you among the crowd of marines shuffling to return to their drop ships.

“Yes, and?” Sanguinius has the expression of a man who knows something his others do not, which fails to amuse Guilliman in the slightest.

“She is the lover of one of our brothers. Care to guess who?”

Guilliman gives him a look of surprise that is uncharacteristic of him. He had assumed you were a remembrancer, a navigator perhaps that looks oddly more human than they usually do.

“One of the Primarchs has taken a consort? That is-“ Sanguinus waves his hand and brushes off the man’s words.

“Unimportant. Guess.”

Guilliman sighs- displeased at being interrupted - before he looks back your way, and thinks.

“Vulkan.”

An obvious choice; Vulkan is both kindhearted to unaugmented humans and is frequently around baseline populations, but Sanguinius shakes his head.

“Fulgrim.”

He’s had wives before, though he thought the Phoenician swore off it because of heartbreak. Sanguinus shakes again.

“…Magnus?”

Guilliman's voice raises in a now genuinely questioning tone. The fabric of your robes is similar to that of the Thousand Sons, but Sanguinius shakes again- Guilliman expresses his distaste.

“Sanguinius this game is ridiculous and I-“

Guilliman stops when he sees Mortarion walk up to you, saving you from being lost in a sea of marines. He looks down at you with his discontent neutral expression, the decayed skin of his lips shifting with thinly veiled irritation. His limp grey hair falls in chunks around his face, and without his mask, he lets out a cough before composing himself.

He reaches a hand out to grab your arm, and you bite your lip. You say something Guilliman cannot hear nor read off your lips, but it’s something that visibly surprises the primarch.

Guilliman is stunned into silence before quickly stammering.

“That is not true. There is absolutely no-“

Sanguinius laughs, overjoyed to see Guilliman’s genuine shock.

“Oh I have proof brother. Besides their loving gazes in public eye, my Sanguinary Guard… Quite unfortunately seemed to pass by Mortarion's private quarters on the way to mine and overheard some disquieting things.

“Mortarion!”

There was the sound of wood slamming against the wall, the sound of flesh and skin. A woman’s screams echoed through the walls as more concerning sounds slipped from the safety of the primarch’s chambers.

“Mortarion! Please!”

Sanguinius is still disquieted by it. ‘Mortarion is torturing serfs’ his guards had thought and told him, before their helmet recordings had realized they greatly misunderstood.

An awkward conversation, that had been.

What a beautiful woman you were, smiling up at Mortarion with eyes so full of love Sanguinius hadn’t thought it possible. To think you love a man stuck in a cycle of disease so readily and fully.

And deeply, judging by the slamming his guards had overheard.

Guilliman looks a bit paler, watching Mortarion shove you forward to follow his men.

“I… must go. I would thank you for your time but given what I have learned today, I quite honestly don’t believe it deserves gratitude.”

Sanguinius laughs with his entire chest, patting Guilliman on the shoulder.

#Mortarion x reader #mywriting #primarch x reader #warhammer 40k x reader

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nevadancitizen · 3 months

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HEAD OF FALSE SECURITY MASTERLIST

synopsis: The Soviet Union has been producing robots for a long time based on a miracle compound: polymer. But that was invented in 1941. The current year is 2038, and, due to rising tensions in the Arctic, Americans aren't as kind to Soviets as they once were. It's too bad you're a russki, and it's really too bad that you work in cybersecurity. And honestly, with the case Fowler has put you on, you're at risk of losing your job. It doesn't help that you're stuck with Lieutenant Hank Anderson and some new android apparently called Connor.

A Detroit: Become Human AU with elements from Atomic Heart (2023), in which the international political climate is a bit different and more prominent within the story. The Soviet Union still exists, and she's threatening America by proxy of her invasion of the Arctic.

ships: Connor/Reader, Hank Anderson & Reader

tags: Robot/Human Relationships, Action/Adventure, Action & Romance, Slow Burn, Fluff, Canon-Typical Violence, Gender-neutral Reader, Mutual Pining, Minor Character Death

small note: this fic has russian in it (i mean, obviously). i'll be posting the translations in the comments of the fics, so if you're confused, be sure to check them :)

note, continued: also, the reader in this fic is gender neutral. please do not refer to them with feminine or masculine pronouns. instead, please address them by they/them pronouns. this fic is all-inclusive and not meant to alienate anyone -- it's meant to be written so that everyone can read, no matter their personal pronouns!

CH. 1: A Silent Dog & Still Waters

CH. 2: Like a Mouse in a House Full of Cats

CH. 3: Android Autopsy (Or is it Necropsy?)

CH. 4: Without Torture, There is no Camaraderie

CH. 5: Live For a Century, Learn For a Century

CH. 6: Some Sort of Sick, Self-Inflicted Schadenfreude

CH. 7: Does Every Rabid Dog Get its Tail Docked up to the Ears?

CH. 8: Mind Palaces & Other Shattered Crystalline Dreams

CH. 9: If You Chop From the Shoulder, the Ax Will Find Your Hip

CH. 10: Either Fickle or a Friend (Or a Really Fucking Fickle Friend)

CH. 11: Only Philosophy From the Poor Rings True

CH. 12: Friends & Tobacco are Separate Things (& so are Revolutions)

CH. 13: The Joys of Soviet Technologies (or, Good, Honest Snake Oil – if There is Such a Thing!) (or, Let's Talk Homecoming (the Military Operation, not Prom)) (or, The Smallest Church in Saint-Saëns) (or, Wake up & Smell the Ashes)

CH. 14: No Misfortune is Without Blessing

CH. 15: These are the Moments

EPILOGUE: <currently being written...>

#riptide writes 🌊#head of false security #masterlist #dbh connor x reader #connor rk800 x reader #rk800 x reader #connor x reader #detroit become human #dbh connor #dbh rk800 #connor rk800 #dbh x reader #detroit become human x reader #dbh connor x you #connor rk800 x you #rk800 x you #connor x you #dbh x you #detroit become human x you

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elexuscal · 2 years

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The "Top" fics in fandom are not the "Best"

I've seen a couple of posts here in there implying that the ways to find the best fics in fandoms are just to go to ao3, and sort by 'Most Kudoses', 'Most Bookmarks', 'Most Comments', etc. I've also seen some folks say they feel like their fics are failures if they don't make it to the front page(s), or at least near there.

But the simple fact: this is not true.

Now, I'm not saying that the top-rated fics in a fandom are bad.

Far from it! They're often very popular for a reason. Well written, fun dynamics, cool plots, etc. A lot of my own favourite fics have made it to the first page when you sort by "Most Kudos"-- but then, a lot of mine also haven't.

Why?

Because those selections are inherently biased.

What do I mean by that? Just that there are other factors influencing what stories accumulate the most comments/kudoses/etc in a fandom, meaning none of these serve as a neutral metric of quality.

I'm going to explain some of these biases briefly, just so folks get a sense of what I mean:

Age Bias This, I think, is the easiest to grasp. A fic that is three years old just has had more time to gain views than a fic that's three days old. Also, consider that pretty much any fandom needs time to grow. If you're in the first days/weeks/months of a fandom, there probably just isn't that much content being made. If there's only 10 fics on the archive, then 11th one stands out. It'll get a lot of attention. But if that same fic were to come out a couple years later, when there were 11 fics published in a single day, well, people are more likely to miss it. If you doubt me, take a look at the front page of 'Most Kudos' for a fandom of your choice. You'll probably see a lot of the stories there are on the older side- and this is exactly why.

Multi-Chapter Bias There are a lot of ways people find new fics to read, and one of the most basic is just: look at the front page of the most recent updates. Now, this way of sorting fics is exactly what it sounds like. A list of fics in order of when they were most recently posted/updated. But, obviously, if a fic has multiple chapters, it's going to appear on that front page way more often. A 50 chapter epic has 49 more chances to get seen this way than a one-shot. This issue becomes even more intense when you consider the Most Comments sort option. For a one shot, a person is probably likely to only comment once. Maybe if they really love the story and revisit, they'll leave a second or third. But multi-factor fics? By design, people come back every update. And that means a lot of people leave comments every single time. (Or at the very least, after big plot developments and twists!) This is what leads to long-running multi-chapter epics dominating the 'Most Comments' rankings in most fandoms.

Popular Pairing Bias Again, this is just obvious. Some pairings are more popular than others. A rare-pair fic can be just as soulful, hot, and well-written as a story featuring the fandom's powerhouse fic, but if only 30 people are interested, well... [shrug] Less people will click on it, kudos it, and leave a comment. To a lesser extent, you can expand this to any trope. 'Coffee Shop AUs' just seem to be more popular than, say, '1930s Mobster AUs'. That effects what tags people search, and what fics they find. But shipping is such an important element of many fandom cultures I thought it would be the most illustrative.

Positive Feedback Loop Bias And honestly, this is maybe the real clincher. Because I've established some of the things that can cause a story to start gathering lots of kudos, comments, and bookmarks in a first place. But once that starts, you get a positive feedback loop going. Because what's one of the first things a person does when they're looking for good stories in a fandom? They sort by 'Most Kudos'. And then they select the first story on the list, and they like it. So they leave a comment and kudos and... Yeaaaah.

So... What do we do about it?

Well. Nothing really. This isn't really a problem. It's just something to be aware of.

Any attempt to put metrics on something as subjective as art is going to fall short. So don't go rating the quality of your own stories about how well it performs, and don't go chasing those coveted top spots. You'll have a lot more fun if you just write stuff that you enjoy, make some friends, and recognise a lot of factors influence fanfic statistics beyond just quality.

Searching via most comments/kudoses/bookmarks remains one of the easiest and quickest ways to start diving into a new fandom. It's often the first things I do, and found stories I love that way.

That said: I highly encourage you to search for fics beyond just that method. Here are some of my suggestions if you want to figure out ways to get started:

Search up Fanfic Rec Lists. Lots of people put them on their blogs, and websites like TVTropes even have that as a whole feature

Ask for fic recs! Seriously! Post about it in the fandom's tumblr tag, join Discord communities, etc, and just say, "Hey, I'd love to read a story where... [insert the general themes, characters, or plot points you like". People will be EXCITED to share.

Search by specific tags Like, do you really, really love time loops? Search the 'Time Loop' tag in your favourite fandoms. A lot of specific tropes, AUs, etc. are canonized, so you can find a lot of stuff up your alley that way

Browse the most recently updated fics Yeah, I know, it's old school. But seriously, you can find some awesome stuff there-- including stories from new authors just starting out, who could really use a boost!

And hey... if you find some stories you like... Consider writing some fic recommendation lists of your own. Spread the love!

#fanfic #archive of our own #ao3 #fandom

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cirtusmistress · 4 months

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Hurricane

Authors Note: I wrote this about two years ago and posted it to AO3, and never cross-posted it to Tumblr. But given I want to get back into writing, I may as well start by posting what I got! So enjoy my first fic, two years late.

Ship ~ Brahms Heelshire x GN Reader

Tags ~ Comfort, Canon-Typical Violence, Reader is Competent, Storm prep, Brahms is Scared of Storms, Touch-Starved Brahms Heelshire, Reader Replaces Greta Evans, Minor Injuries, Doll Brahms Heelshire, One Shot, Gender-Neutral Pronouns

AO3 Crosspost

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“A storm? Like, a thunderstorm? Or is it worse?” You asked. You’d been working for the Heelshire’s for around two months now. And though they’d left you with very detailed instructions on how to care for their beloved son, they had never brought up things such as house care. Honestly, you hadn’t planned on staying this long. Not into Autumn.

“A full on hurricane.” Malcolm answered, setting the last of the grocery bags down. He continued, “The worst one we’ve had in years apparently. They’re predicting outages and downed trees. I can help you secure the windows and doors if you’d like?” He offered. A sweet gesture. An olive branch of friendship. But you knew better than to take it.

During your short time at the Heelshire estate, and caring for Brahms, you’d learned a great many things. The most crucial being that whenever someone stayed around too long and stole your attention away from the doll you cared for, there was hell to pay. In one instance you found the dining room in complete disarray after simply inviting Malcolm in for tea, during a rare social moment for you. The worst case was when a friend of yours stopped by. They were a globetrotter, and seeing as you already had residence found it simpler to just stay with you. A mistake. One night was enough to send Brahms into the worst tantrum you’d ever seen. Multiple rooms destroyed, a window had been broken, and he had stolen your friend's passport. Your friendship didn’t last long after that. After all, who was to believe that a doll could cause so much harm?

“Thank you, Malcolm, but I’ll be fine. I’ve dealt with a few storms in my life, I’ll manage.” You replied. Malcolm studied you for a moment. Likely trying to read you, sniff out any signs of dishonesty. But, there were none. Just that warm smile that could melt anyone's heart. He gave a sigh of defeat and nodded.

“If you say so. Just give me a call if you need anything. I’ll come check on you when the hurricane passes.” With that he gave you a wave and headed back to his truck. You muttered a soft thanks, finally returning to your chores.

Brahms sat in the kitchen where he’d been waiting. Like he was listening to your conversation. You’d grown used to this odd job of yours. Caring for a doll as if it were human. Though you’d always figured there was more to this situation then most believed. You’d heard of people using dolls to cope with loss, the concept wasn’t lost on you. But for a couple well into their later years? And there were just.. Too many small things. Even in the rules. Playing music loud, reading in a loud clear voice, leaving food in the freezer. Food which you knew was going missing.

But the biggest tell was an accident. It had been about a month into the job. You’d actually begun to believe Brahms was a child's spirit trapped in the doll. What with him moving around on his own, and leaving you little offerings, and once saying your goddamn name when he was upset. But then, just by accident as you were putting Brahms to bed, you hit your foot against the wall. It had hurt so badly you thought you’d broken a toe. But what stood out in your mind even now was the sound the wall made. It didn’t make the thud you knew from stubbing your toe time and time again in youth. The wall sounded hollow. There had been an echo. Now you knew some older houses had hollow walls. Normally the cavities between the two layers were used for insulation. But that echo.. That wasn’t a normal hollow wall.

After that you’d started paying closer attention to the house and Brahms as you went about your day. Watching and listening. Countless nights where you’d lay in bed and just listen. You’d hear shuffling, the rare footstep like someone had stumbled. Once you swore you heard breathing. You noticed how many rooms had large paintings or cabinets, your size or larger. For a while you thought you were going mad. There was no way in hell that an elderly couple had been keeping their son in the walls for twenty years. But then you learned of the Heelshire’s deaths. Suicides. So many things pointing to something you didn’t quite know how to feel about. On one hand, you were now basically the sole guardian of a doll who was actually a stand-in for the hypothetical twenty-eight year old man in the walls. On the other, Brahms was now completely alone after twenty years of isolation. Alone, save for you. Sweet, kind, loving you who treated a porcelain doll like a real boy. Who read to him every night and tucked him in with a kiss. You couldn’t just leave him. No matter what Brahms was.

“We’re in for a storm, Brahms. I guess that means we’re having a slumber party downstairs tonight.” You cortled, putting the last of the groceries away. You took note of how little perishables Malcolm had dropped off. Thinking ahead. You wouldn’t be able to cook for however long the power was gone, if it did go that was.

You turned back to the doll, scooping him up and taking him with you. You figured the downstairs office would be the safest place. The windows were relatively small and were less likely to break. It would do for your purposes. You sat Brahms in the corner and got to work moving the desk out of the way. You’d have to lay down blankets and things to sleep on. You doubted the old fashioned Heelshire’s were going to have something like an air mattress.

You spent a good hour doing basic storm prep. Dragging some old blankets and comforters out of wardrobes and laying them down on the floor. Filling up buckets and the tubs with water. Getting crossword puzzles and cards. By the time that was all done, it had begun to rain outside. The calm before the storm you supposed. The last thing on your storm checklist was lanterns. This was an old house, you were certain that the Heelshire’s would have oil lamps somewhere. Naturally the first place you wanted to check was the attic.. But you knew better. After all, if your theory was right you didn’t want to scare the poor man by invading his space. So you settled on checking the cellar first.

Only issue was, you really couldn’t bring Brahms. You knew he was never meant to be alone but taking a fragile doll into a dark cellar was too risky. He’d have to stay upstairs. You were hoping he wouldn’t be too upset.

“Brahms, I’m headed to the cellar. I’ll be quick, I promise.” You hummed. With that, you headed down alone. You had been right, it was dark and musty and damp. You started to wonder if there was mold down here. You flicked on the old dingy light which surprisingly still worked. You began digging through the clutter. Old things like furniture, clothes never worn since the sixties, even some art pieces. It was like a time capsule. You didn’t have time to walk through history though, you needed to find anything that could give light without the use of electricity. Lower and lower you went through the piles, until finally you found something. A pair of old oil lamps and a small can of oil to go with it. You muttered a soft thanks, pulling them out from beneath wicker chairs. But what was behind them gave you pause.

The bricks were singed. Dark burn marks that showed age. Your eyes followed the marks. The furniture in here had covered them, but now they were exposed after your rummaging. They flowed over the bricks going upwards. They almost looked beautiful. But that beauty hid a tragedy that plagued this home. You knew why they’d been hidden with so much clutter.

Your thoughts were interrupted when something crashed behind you, making you scream and jump. When you turned you saw one of the mirrored vanities stored away had been smashed. The mirror shards now littered the floor. And on the steps sat the Brahms doll, staring you down. It took you a moment to catch your breath, realizing your error. Brahms didn’t want you uncovering his painful memories. And he’d made sure you knew that. Gathering yourself, you pushed the lamps aside and began to put all that you’d moved back into its place. Covering those painful memories back up, letting them remain hidden and forgotten. Once finished you picked the lamps and the can up and approached Brahms. Kneeling to his height you gave an apologetic smile.

“I’m sorry Brahms,” you spoke with such a genuine tone of sincerity, “I shouldn’t have snooped around. But look! I found the lamps we’ll need!” You held up the lamps, jostling them a little so they clinked together. Of course the doll remained frozen. But just faintly, almost missable under the sound of rain pouring down, you heard panting. Like someone coming down from a rage.

“I’ll clean up the shards, then we’ll head back upstairs, okay?” You’d started speaking to Brahms out loud more after you’d learned about the walls. Feeding your own delusions some would say. You held your word, starting to pick up the larger shards and resting them on top of the vanity. The smaller ones you just brushed away with some loose fabric you found. You didn’t really plan on coming back down here anyways, not after that outburst.

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You always found time moves slower when there was a storm. The day seemed to drag on as the storm became worse and worse. The wind had picked up and those raindrops just kept getting larger. It was loud, even on the bottom floor. You had settled on just simple sandwiches for dinner, making sure to put a ‘spare’ in the freezer. And after that you’d just settled in to do a crossword. It was.. Probably the first time in weeks where you felt safe. There was something about the dim lighting and blankets that just felt right. Secure. Warm. Brahms sat under the covers and you’d even given him a crossword book of his own. Slightly cruel, knowing he couldn’t move with you there with him. But at least you’d been talking to him. Funny, you always struggled talking with real people. But this doll turned you into a chatterbox. Maybe it was the simple fact no one was attempting to speak over you. Like someone was actually listening.

Your tranquility was disrupted by a large gust of wind, followed by a crash that made the manor shake. And what sounded like a scream. It had come from upstairs. Something inside you just knew. That crash was in the attic. You were running upstairs before you even had time to think. Up the stairs, and finding the attic ladder down. You were unsure if it had come undone itself or if someone had moved it. That didn’t matter as you climbed up. It was your first time in the attic but you didn’t get a chance to explore. A branch had flown off a tree and crashed through the wall, opening it up to the elements. You could only act, no time for clear thoughts. You grabbed a nearby blanket and started to desperately try to cover the hole, but another gale blew you back. There was nothing you could do to patch it right now, not unless you wanted to risk injury or worse, death.

Your rattled mind returned to the scream you had heard. Or at least you thought you had heard. Looking around you didn’t see a body but there was a bed up here. A tv, a sink.. Someone was living here. You didn’t have time to celebrate your theory being proven. Where was Brahms? Your eyes flitted around, finally landing back on the ladder. Somehow you had missed the very clear bloody handprint on it during your panic. But if Brahms was bleeding.. Oh God, how badly was he injured? Quickly you descended the steps, trying to find any sign of him. You were too panicked to even fear this man who was hiding from you for so long. All you knew somewhere in this house he was hurt and bleeding.

“Brahms?” You called, starting to check every room. Could he have climbed back into the walls? Fearing you discovering him? You checked everything on the top floor and worked down, calling his name in a more desperate tone with each exclamation. But finally you found him. Turning the corner back into the downstairs study. There he sat, in place of the doll. It wasn’t what you expected to see. The mask was shocking at first glance. You were momentarily stun locked. He was bigger than you anticipated, even sitting down. Finally you snapped out of it when he looked at you, and held out his bleeding hand. It had a sizable gash across the palm.

“It hurts,” He spoke in a child-like voice. The voice you’d heard months ago. His head drooped a touch as he spoke, “Can you fix it?” He asked. Finally, after another beat, you nodded. Your mouth felt dry. Too dry to speak. In the kitchen you found the first aid, and took it back with you. He hadn’t moved from his place on the makeshift bed. You knelt beside him, and carefully took his hand in yours. Up close you could see the burn scars that ran along his entire right side. Suddenly his outburst in the cellar made much more sense.. Carefully you applied some rubbing alcohol to the cut. That made Brahms whimper and pull his hand back. The look in his eyes behind that mask was murderous.

“I’m sorry, Brahms, but I have to.. To clean it.” You choke out. Your mouth is still far too dry. You hold your hand out for his again, giving him those warm eyes again. He would trust you wouldn’t he? After all, you had been the one to care for him all this time. He looked at your hand, then back to your face. For a moment Brahms almost seemed entranced by your eyes before conceding and resting his hand back in yours.

“Good boy..” You said, starting to clean the wound. He made a noise akin to that of a moan at your praise. You supposed you were the first person to touch him or give him praise in years. He was likely touch starved. Once the cut was clean, you grabbed the bandages and began to wrap his hand. He kept watching you. His breath was heavy behind that mask.

Finally you were done, and you let his hand go. Brahms examined your work, how carefully you’d wrapped him, and the cute little bow you’d tied it off with. As he studied his hand, you studied him. Despite the childish voice he put on, he was very much an adult. You could see his beard poking out from beneath the porcelain. He was actually rather handsome, you’d admit. The rain picked up again, and the lights began flickering. Brahms jumped and quickly moved closer to you. Before you knew it his head was hiding in your lap. Apparently he was afraid of the storm. Made sense, it had attacked him after all. Carefully you began to stroke his hair in an attempt to soothe him.

“We’ll be okay. Just a little wind and rain, that’s all. Maybe we can play cards? Or I can tell you a story?” You offered. Just trying to find anything to distract him from the weather outside damaging his home. Slowly he nodded, not lifting his head from your waist. Actually his grip seemed to grow tighter. You could feel him inhaling a little too deeply, and his hands started to squeeze your thighs as he held tight. You felt bad thinking how unsurprised that made you. But he had lived in the walls for twenty years.. And you were likely the first person he’d had stick around.

You settled back on to the makeshift mattress, Brahms never letting you go. He shuffled up a bit, so his face was resting against your chest. You kept stroking his hair, picking your brain for a story to tell. Something romantic as you had a wild feeling that was right up his alley. You recounted the story of Pride and Prejudice, not skipping any details of the classic story. Brahms seemed all too enthralled by the tale. He even began to kick his feet in the air when you recounted the climax between Elizabeth and the beloved Mr.Darcy. Just before you could finish though, the lights finally gave out. Brahms tensed up against you and again hugged you tight against him. You let out a wheeze. You needed to get the lamps but he seemed content just smothering you until the lights came back themselves. Finally you managed to sit up as he continued to cling like a baby koala.

“Brahms, sweetheart, I need to light the lamps.” You manage to get out. But that seems to make his grip tighter. He shakes his head, face pulling your shirt back and forth.

“No. No lamps. I don’t want any fire in the house.” He whimpered. Your heart broke a little. That night seemed to have never left Brahms.. You stroked his back soothingly before trailing your hands to cup his cheeks.

“Brahms, we need light. It’ll be okay, I can work an oil lamp-” You were cut off as Brahms slammed you back down against the floor. Even with the cushioning it knocked the air from your lungs. Your hands fell from his face beside yourself as his own gripped your shoulders.

“No fire in the house. Never again.” His voice was no longer that high falsetto. Instead it was deep, aggressive. He sounded his age. You gasped for air, before nodding. Tears had pricked your eyes. You felt a twinge of guilt as you questioned whether or not he’d hurt you.

Finally you found your voice again, “Okay Brahms. No lamps, I promise. Do you want another story?” You asked in a feeble attempt to calm him back down. Lucky for you it seemed to work. Brahms grip on your shoulders loosened, and he returned his head to your chest. He nodded and urged you on to tell your story.

A shaky sigh escaped you. You thanked your lucky stars that you could calm him so easily. As you began telling another story, the rain and wind outside crashed into the manor. You knew Brahms would never harm you. Not you. Not his caretaker. But you began to wonder. How long would this storm last? Suddenly, in the dark, the room no longer felt secure.

#brahms heelshire x reader #horror x reader #slasher x reader #brahms heelshire #brahms the boy #x reader #gn reader #gender neutral reader #sfw fanfic #comfort #minor injuries #canon typical violence #tw violence #one shot

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forest-hashira · 6 months

Text

2 Be Loved

this has sat in my drafts for... idk exactly how long, a month at least, because i was trying to decide if i even wanted to post it here. i wrote this for myself when i was Going Through It with my depression. now that i've sat on it a while, and i've generally been doing better, i've decided it's time to go ahead and share this. i hope you all enjoy it, and that it brings you some level of comfort or reassurance if you need it 💜

read on ao3 here | wc: ~2.4k | cw: gender neutral reader, plus size reader, mental health issues (reader is in a depressive episode), emotional hurt/comfort, some fluff at the end, really this is very self ship coded

You’d spent practically the whole day in bed. And the day before that, and the day before that, and probably the day before that, too. You’d lost count, honestly; all the days bleeding together and blurring in the fog of your mind.

This was far from the first time this had happened, and you knew it would also be far from the last. Your emotional state had been a rollercoaster for most of your life, and had only become more volatile in the last few years. You would be fine, until you suddenly realized you were decidedly not fine, with some realizations being more gentle than others.

Like this time, for example. You hadn’t suddenly buckled under the weight of the world, but instead had woken up one morning and felt paralyzed; even just the idea of getting out of bed, for any reason, felt insurmountable. So you simply… didn’t. You stayed in bed and slept between episodes of your favorite TV show, grasping for anything that might stop you from sinking further into the depths of your depression.

Satoru had been as patient as ever, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead and whispering a little “I love you,” before he’d left for work. He knew you struggled this way sometimes, and had never been anything but supportive and loving. Suguru had called in “sick”, opting to spend the day taking care of you, which mostly consisted of slipping in and out of sleep all day and occasionally bringing a snack from the kitchen. Satoru had joined you back in bed as soon as he got home from work, effectively squishing you between himself and Suguru, where you were helpless to do anything but let them love you.

It had reduced you to tears, shoulders shaking as ugly, half choked sobs tore themselves from your chest. They had let you cry, not rushing to try and quiet you as they might have done when they were younger; they let you get it out of your system, only stepping in to comfort you when you started to speak.

“I’m sorry,” you’d cried, eyes shut tight as you tried to avoid their gaze. “I’m sorry I’m…” you’d struggled for words then, losing them between your hiccuping sobs and the darkness that clouded your mind.

“I’m too much,” you’d come up with eventually. “My emotions are too messy, and my mind doesn’t work right… I feel like all I do is cause problems for both of you. Like all I do is hold you back and drag you down.”

You hadn’t seen the look they’d exchanged, the pain that pinched their features, but you had felt the way they pressed in closer, as if they could crush the depression out of you.

“You are not too much,” Satoru had murmured, gently tilting your head up to meet his gaze, his cerulean eyes sparkling in the low light from the lamp on your bedside table. “You could never be too much, not to me – to us.” His thumb brushed lightly along your cheekbone, delicately wiping the tears from your skin even as they were replaced with more. “We love you so much, y’know? I love you so much. Taking care of you is not a chore, or a burden.”

You’d shaken your head, unable to believe his words. “You can’t possibly mean that.”

“But we do,” Suguru had been the one to speak that time. “You mean it when you tell me the same thing when I’m depressed, right?”

“Of course I do.” There wasn’t any hesitation as the words left your lips. “Taking care of you is a privilege.”

“Then why can’t you believe we feel the same way about taking care of you?”

His words had left you reeling, so much so that you almost didn’t hear Suguru when he continued.

“Satoru’s right, angel. I love you. We adore you, and we want to take care of you. Always.”

As Suguru had hugged you tighter with one arm and pressed gentle kisses to your shoulder, he’d placed his other hand on your white haired lover’s hip, keeping him as close as possible. Satoru had been eager to oblige, snuggling into you as much as possible. He’d brushed your hair from your face and pressed a kiss to your forehead, one hand cradling your face while the other reached across you to settle on Suguru’s hip. They had effectively caged you in, both with their bodies and with their love. It had shattered you, reduced you to tears again, but they hadn’t minded; they were there to hold you together, to pick up the pieces when you couldn’t do it alone.

Through some unspoken agreement, your boys switched places the next day; Suguru had gone into work while Satoru had called out “sick” to take care of you. They did their best not to leave you alone for too long whenever they could help it, but they could only get away with calling out sick when everyone knew the two of them were perfectly healthy; when the higher ups knew that you were the one keeping the two special grades and teachers from fully doing their jobs.

A few days passed with your lovers taking turns staying home with you, until one day they both called out to stay home, though you didn’t realize that at first, since Suguru was quick to return to you in bed, holding you close as you drifted off again, faintly away of the sound of the front door closing and locking before you were fully asleep.

When you woke up again, the first thing you were aware of was the fact that you were alone in bed. At almost the same moment, though, you heard music coming from what you guessed what the kitchen, though you couldn’t quite tell, since the bedroom door was shut; wherever it was coming from, it was definitely upbeat pop music, so you knew for certain Satoru was the one who had turned it on.

With no small amount of effort, you pushed yourself into a sitting position, rubbing your eyes for a moment and yawning before you crawled off the bed on Satoru’s side. You shuffled over to the dresser then, opening drawers and grabbing clothes pretty much at random. You wound up in a black sweatshirt and a pair of light blue sweatpants, both of which were at least two sizes too big for you, which even your fuzzy brain knew meant they weren’t actually your clothes; they belonged to your two giants of lovers.

Once you were dressed, you turned back to the nightstand, grabbing one of Suguru’s hair ties to pull your hair out of your face with, and, after a deep breath, you decided to brave the kitchen.

Opening the door to the bedroom allowed you to fully hear the music that was playing, and you were a little surprised to realize it was in English, rather than Japanese. Satoru liked to listen to anything that was happy and upbeat enough, but he – understandably – had a bit of a preference for J pop music.

Still a little surprised by the music choice and a little foggy from sleep, you make your way to the kitchen in a bit of a daze. Both Satoru and Suguru were in the kitchen: Suguru at the counter, mixing something in the stand mixer, while Satoru danced around to the music, occasionally trying to steal a bit of whatever Suguru had in the mixing bowl, and being effectively swatted away every time. You stood in the doorway for a few moments in silence, just watching them in utter adoration.

Eventually, though, Satoru noticed you, and he got a bright grin on his face as he raced over to you. “You got out of bed!” he gushed, wrapping you up in a tight hug and pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “I’m so proud of you, mochi,” he murmured against your scalp, and something about the nickname in combination with the praise made you feel like you were going to melt into a puddle right then and there.

Just as suddenly as he had engulfed you in a hug, the white haired sorcerer was releasing you, lunging for where he’d left his phone on the counter by the bluetooth speaker he was using for the music. You watched curiously as he opened his playlist, hastily skipping through a handful of songs before he got to the one he was apparently looking for. Seeming pleased with himself, he made sure the song was playing, turned the volume up a little bit, then turned back to you with that sparkling grin of his.

You blinked in surprise when you heard the singer’s voice, and you looked up at him with a look of complete bafflement. “I didn’t know you listened to Lizzo.”

He sighed dramatically and rolled his eyes. “No, baby, you gotta listen to the lyrics!” he insisted, taking your hands and doing a very small little dance with you right there in the doorway.

Though part of you wanted to argue, you had never been good at resisting your energetic lover, and this time was no exception. Before you even nodded, Satoru already knew you’d given in to him, and he pulled you a bit closer to himself as he started singing along with the lyrics. And not quietly, either: he sang them with all the enthusiasm in his body, and though you hated to admit it, it was contagious, even in your depressed state.

By the end of the first verse, you were smiling, a small laugh escaping you at your lover’s almost puppyish behavior. When the chorus came around, you started singing along as well, and you noticed belatedly that Satoru was singing the lines of the background singers, rather than the main chorus, like you were.

“Am I ready?”

“You deserve it now.”

“‘Cause I want it!”

“That’s what I’m talkin’ about.”

“Am I ready?”

“You gon’ figure it out.”

“To be loved, to be loved.”

Your singing faltered then, and you stared up at Satoru for a moment, suddenly realizing why he’d picked this song to serenade you with. He stopped singing as well, smiling gently down at you as he watched you fit the puzzle pieces together in your mind.

“We’ve always been ready to love you.”

The sound of Suguru’s voice from behind you caused you to startle a bit, but you looked up at him with wide, disbelieving eyes.

“Are you ready to let us love you again?” His tone held no resentment, no bitterness, only gentle adoration, and you were certain that if Satoru didn’t still have a solid grip on your hands, you would have sunk to your knees with the overwhelming realization of how much these two men adored you, despite how much your mind sometimes tried to convince you they shouldn’t.

Unable to find your voice, you nodded, blinking back the tears that threatened to spill down your cheeks. You allowed your eyes to flutter shut for a moment as Suguru leaned down and pressed a kiss to the top of your head, but just a few seconds later, Satoru was tugging you back into his space, spinning you around so your back was to his chest. The song was still playing and he was apparently still determined to get you to dance with him.

Suguru laughed softly at his lover’s antics, shaking his head slightly at Satoru and offering you a slight shrug when you looked up at him for some sort of explanation.

Now the subject of Satoru’s whims, you allowed him to dance around the kitchen with you in his arms, still singing along with the song, though now his volume was lower, as he sang the words down at you. You smiled, allowing yourself to get lost in the warmth of his love, even if his fingers were cold where they wrapped around your own.

“He call me Melly, he squeeze my belly.”

Your eyes flew open as Satoru sang the words, his chilly hands coming down to squeeze at the soft flesh of your stomach, the touch pulling a rather undignified squeak from your lips, but he just continued to beam down at you. He wasn’t going along with the lyrics of the song to make fun of you – he’d expressed to you enough times that he adored the soft pudginess of your body for you to know he meant it – but it still surprised every time he made sure to pay special attention to the squishier parts of you.

The sound of your squeak pulled another laugh from Suguru, and though at first you were planning to glare at him, you couldn’t go through with it; not when his expression was full of so much love and relief. He crossed the kitchen to reach you again, whatever was in the mixer long forgotten in favor of you. When he reached out for you, going to him was easier than breathing. He pulled you close, pressing his lips to the crown of your head as he swayed around the kitchen with you. The movement didn’t match the energy of the song at all, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. You were safe and secure in his arms, and Satoru had enough energy for all three of you; it was impossible not to watch him as he danced around the kitchen, white hair and blue eyes shining, and he flashed you that brilliant grin of his every time he caught your gaze.

Things weren’t suddenly perfect; Lizzo and dancing in the kitchen was not a magical fix-it for the irregularities in your emotional state, but it was certainly a stepping stone back to your normal. And you knew, without any doubt in your mind, that you would have the support and full confidence of your lovers behind you every step of the way. They were your way back to yourself, after all. Suguru was your anchor in stormy seas, tethering you to something real, something sturdy; Satoru was the lighthouse calling you home when the waters calmed enough for you to move again.

i hope you guys have enjoyed seeing some of my other stuff i hadn't yet shared here! though i can't promise when i'll have anything new, know that i am working on things now + am preparing things for my upcoming milestone event!!! take care of yourselves as best you can 💜. divider by cafekitsune

tagging: @kentohours @mitsuristoleme @marinnnnnnnnn @witchbybirth @peachdues

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