#new series?

[selarina]

Bleeding Heart Dove

-> Nanami Kento x Reader

Summary: In the quiet routine of a strained marriage, a simple proposal for a trip offers a glimpse of hope.

Tags: angst, slow burn, marriage au, marital strain, emotional hurt/comfort, implied emotional neglect, second chance au, rainy day, fluff, suggestive, mention of reader having boobs, unresolved tension (they need to fuck nasty), unedited

Word Count: 970 words

Author's Note: it's raining and I finally got a surge to write something <3 anyway, bleeding heart dovessssssss have my heart

Read on AO3 | Part 2

Today had been sad and gloomy, the rain pouring relentlessly as the clouds had been crying since noon.

He tried to make his entrance small, creeping in like a nimble thief in the night. Slowly, he removed his sodden shoes and coat, hanging them up to dry. His umbrella he placed on the ground, even more slowly. See, it was an old one, and tended to spring up and about with sudden movement.

He stepped inside the kitchen now. There was food on the table, just as always. He uncovered the plastic wrapping and placed it in the oven, not even bothering to check what was for dinner. Hunger was gnawing at him and he would eat a human hand if you let him.

"Hello," a voice cut through.

"Oh," he turned, startled. "I'm sorry. Did I wake you?"

"I was up anyway," you replied. Your business clothes clung to you like the remnants of a very weary day. You must have returned late as well. "Let me help, Nanami."

He didn't say anything, simply stepping aside to let you tend to his plate and yours. He had assumed he'd have the whole meal for himself, a strange notion given the portion size. But given that he hadn't eaten all day, he didn't question the rationality at first. Now, it made sense — you hadn't eaten either.

He started setting up the glasses, placing two for wine and two for water, movements mechanical and jittery.

"Here," you said, appearing before him with a corkscrew in hand, as if conjured by some quiet magic.

Your hands looked tired. Lagging. Your eyes bleary. An impulse stirred within him, as though a needle had pricked at his heart, he felt the urge to swipe his hands over your eyes, to wipe away the weariness. But he withheld.

"Thank you," he murmured, taking the corkscrew and setting to work on the bottle.

Your gaze lingered for a mere second on his hands, watching the way they flexed with the way he handled the bottle. Precise. Gentle.

"How was work?" you asked, turning to the oven.

He wonders if you actually cared about what he said. “Horrible,” he answered.

"Oh," you replied. Neutral. "Okay." Neutral again. It drove him a bit insane every time. But he was a calm man.

"And your work?" he asked.

"Oh, quite lovely," you replied, a soft, dove-like smile gracing your lips. It was a smile that brought a sting of sadness to his heart, for he knew you would not elaborate. Not for him.

"That's nice," he said, his voice hollow. He poured the wine into the glasses, filling yours to three-quarters and his to a scant half.

And then the two of you sat, on opposite ends of your teak dinner table. Eating and swallowing in silence. The clanking of the forks being the only music that filled the room. He thought about getting up to play set the record, playing some of those old jazz tunes you were quite fond of. But the record was likely dusty. It was much too much work.

So he remained seated, the silence between you so vast and impenetrable, it made you conscious about how loud you were chewing your food.

—

"Well," you returned from the bathroom. now clad in delicate sleep shorts and a camisole, applying your usual moisturizer to your elbows. "The water's cold," you commented.

"Yeah," he responded, glancing up from his spot on the bed. "Sorry, I prefer it cold so I didn't notice. I think it's the rain."

You chuckled, a sound that seemed almost out of place. "I know you prefer it cold, Nanami. We've been married for practically a millennium, for God's sake."

An exaggeration, of course. It had been six years. You did this a lot.

He offered a faint smile in response, the corners of his mouth barely lifting. "Right," he said.

He felt the bed dip slightly under your weight as you sat. "Will you get my back?" You asked, holding out the moisturiser as you turned to present your back.

He took it, as his hands lifted your camisole, all the way up. He poured some of the white lotion onto his hand as his eyes flickered up, only momentarily, to see your reflection in the mirror. The front half of your top had risen as well, cinching up your breasts.

His eyes trained back to your back, and he began to rub the cream in. Up and down. And up and down. And up and down. When he was finished, he smoothed down your top. He rubbed his hands over your shoulders, giving a gentle squeeze to let you know he was finished.

And then the two of you slept, side by side, waiting for sleep to come find you in the dark. And just then, he doesn't know how or why this happened so don't ask him. All he knew was that somewhere in those first twenty minutes, he had gotten up, his hands reaching for the night lamp to turn it on, leaving you sat up, surprised.

"What is it?" You had asked.

"We should go on a trip," he proposed, calmly.

"A trip," you squinted, your eyes adjusting to the sudden assault of light.

"Yes, we could go to Okinawa," he suggested.

You paused for a moment. "It's storming these days. The weather will be horrible."

"You pick," he said. "Wherever you want to go. We can go."

And then, you thought about it. For a few seconds, he was almost afraid you'd call him a foolish old man and fall back onto your pillow. But instead, you smiled—an earnest smile, outside of your usual politeness. And he felt his heart beating fresh blood.

"Okay, old man," you said. "I'll think of a place."

He smiled.

[eywaseclipse]

I think this is the last AU recom Neteyam edit I have.

[whumpspicelatte]

New Series

So, anyone interested in a series about a vampire hunter whumper and his pet training? Multiple whumpees, lots of whumper-turned-whumpee, pet whump, conditioning, vampire whumpees, you know, the works.

[maggoteatz]

Positive Puppers !!

i plan to make more !!

stay safe <3

[mageofseven]

Okay so...Mephisto x MC series?

Okay so let me at least explain what would make this series different from the others I am currently writing:

My other stories involve a loving couple and *gasp* an unplanned pregnancy! We'll face it together!! And all that predictable drama lol

In this, MC and Mephisto won't be dating at all. In fact, they swear up and down that they hate each other.

However, a baby is still in the mix.

I'm basically gonna play off that smut trope of heats. Not a smut writer obviously, so this would just be mentioned to have happened in the past.

Most demons have methods to cope through their heats, but Mephisto is a dumbass who tries to work through it and still attends to his responsibilities; even Lucifer isn't this stupid.

MC, who doesn't actually hate him, but is constantly frustrated with him, argues with him about it, eventually leading him to begging her for help with his...'issue'.

She does, but only for Mephisto to avoid her like the plague after that.

Eventually she discovers she's pregnant and honestly becomes greatful that Barney Reject™️ is avoiding her so she can have time to think.

MC's not just worried about her life and her baby, but also how Lucifer will react.

On Mephisto's end, he'd had have to deal with the reactions of his incredibly strict and traditional parents, who would be angry at him for knocking up a person at all, but specifically a 'lowly' human. Oh devil, he's in for.

Mephisto will want to care for her and take responsibility while MC has those who care for her in her ear saying that he could never truly care for her

While Mephisto himself has his parents in his ear demanding he pay her off and forget about her and the child.

It would a story about two very different people from different worlds (not just different realms but also different social classes) coming together and growing to understand each other for the sake of their child despite everyone around them speaking as if they know what's best for them.

[one-lonely-whumperfly]

The shelter wasn't used to receiving pets like this one. They mostly took in strays, or pets that owners had to surrender due to behavioral problems. Of course, the owner and staff didn't mind this: at Pick of the Litter Pet Shelter, they had a track record for taking unruly pets and making them the best, most behaved pets outside of a professional, long-term, expensive trainer. But this pet was nothing like those.

This pet was incredibly well-behaved.

The owner came inside with the pet trailing obediently behind him, head down. The pet had a tight collar around his throat, and seemed to be struggling to breathe. He also had a blindfold securely fastened over his eyes, forcing him to rely entirely on his owner and the leash attached to the collar to guide him.

"Hello, sir, welcome to--"

The owner waved his hand to hush the employee. He just yanked the pet harder, causing him to choke slightly. He finally stopped by the door to the kennel.

"Kneel down and stay here."

The pet immediately obeyed, kneeling on the ground and folding his hands in his lap. The man, still clutching the leash, yanked on it to get him to choke again before removing the leash and walking for the door.

The employee blinked, then followed.

"Sir, may I ask where you're going? Do you have an appointment, does your pet need training--"

"I'm done with that useless thing." The man spat. "It's too fucking clingy and desperate for attention and, and just too good and behaved. You can have it." The employee was unable to question anything else as the man stormed off, slamming the door on the way out. The pet jumped in the corner, whimpering. But still, he didn't move.

The employee frowned and walked over to the pet, crouching down next to him.

"Hello there." He said softly. The pet was trembling where he knelt, but turned his head towards the voice. "Hmm, you're having a hard time breathing, aren't you little one?" The pet nodded. "Here, I can help with that." Slowly, the employee reached out and touched the collar, starting to unbuckle it. He was gentle as he pulled it off completely, and grinned as the pet was able to take deeper breaths.

"There you go, that must feel better. Now--" the employee gently pulled the blindfold off. The pet flinched and blinked, trying to get used to the artificial lights of the shelter. His eyes were bloodshot, and a few tears slipped down his face. The sight broke the employee's heart.

"Oh sweetie..." He moved closer, gently stroking the pet's hair. "It's okay. What's wrong?"

The pet started sobbing. "M-Master w-wasn't happy wi-with me... I-I tried to-to be g-g-good... n-now he-he does, doesn't w-w-want me..." He whimpered.

The employee frowned and moved closer, pulling the pet into a gentle hug. "Shh, it's okay, darling. It's okay. You know, it sounds like you've been very good, but your old owner didn't want that. So he brought you here." He continued to stroke the pet's hair, letting him sob into his chest. "There you go, let it all out. It's okay. You just want to be good, don't you? You want to belong somewhere?"

"Mm-hmm." The pet nodded, not looking up. He wanted so badly to be good enough.

"Well, we're a pet shelter. We help find pets homes that will be perfect for them. And I'm sure we'll find a place for you where you'll be the best pet for your new owner."

Sniffling, the pet looked up. "R-really?" He whispered, sounding so hopeful.

"Of course! Now, let's get you cleaned up and fed, hmm? And we can settle you into your room." The employee stood and offered his hand to the pet, who took it gratefully. He practically clung to him.

"Th-thank you, S-Sir."

The employee chuckled. "Oh, little one, you don't need to call me 'Sir'. That sounds much too formal. How about... Mister Alex?"

The pet blinked, seeming to consider it. "Th-thank you, M-M... Mister Alex." For the first time since getting to the shelter, the pet smiled.

This pet was indeed unique.

[goslings-girlx]

“ Uncle Lars. „

Lars swallowed back the slight tremble in his voice. He knocks on your door and waits for your “come in”to peek into the room.

You looked busy doing something and his palms started to sweat. He didn’t want to bother you or be a disturbance. He really really didn’t. He had known you quite literally since you were born. His little niece. You were the only baby he had ever actually held, but other than that he had kept a bit of a distance.

At first; you had been a very fussy baby. Gus had complained about his lack of sleep often during the first few months of you being a newborn, Lars remembered that all too well. He had stayed as far away as possible, your loud, young shrieks and cries were far too overwhelming for him.

“Do…Do you want to play Scrabble?” His voice was soft, hesitant, and quiet, his eyes darting to the ground instead of meeting yours.

One thing he couldn’t remember is when that had stopped, when you became a sweet little child that was always up for a game of scrabble.

“ Uncle Lars. ” 1/?

Hello, darlings. I started writing this for a c.ai bot originally, but I really enjoy this idea so I think I might make it into a series. Please submit/request things that you’d like Lars to do with a young!reader. And one last thing! I’m sorry I put “niece” in the story, but I looked up a gender neutral term for niece/nephew and all I could find was a term; “Nibling” and…I wasn’t sure if most were aware of the term so I opted to not use it. I am sorry though. Love you, Tiny Babies!

[f-ishiya]

Should I make this a series? It's not yet named but first what should I names these two 😊😊?

Pick one of these if u

disagree with me you could put ur answers to the comments 😊😊😊😊😊😊😊😊👹

And also should I add another character?

So... No one was interested?

Just one?

[criminalmindsgonewrong]

emily prentiss moodboard

"I used to do a lot of things."

[soupyloopyx]

my favourite part of my day is seeing what people put as a response on uquiz on a textbox question.

thank you

[dekus-fellow-crybaby]

Drabble from this head canon.

TW: blood, angst, mention of death.

He could faintly hear the screaming around him, sobs erupting over him. He felt arms wrap around his body, the pressure of them lifting his aching limps, cradling him against another, but he felt no warmth from the touch. His eyes felt so heavy, his head was pounding. He hears voices, and can faintly understand that they were speaking, but the words were lost in translation. It takes everything he has just to peak an eye open, stare up at the two sets of eyes on him. He sees their lips moving, watches as the tears fall from their face, but he can’t feel the droplets land on his skin. He can’t move his head to look down at his torso, but he knows there is blood, knows that there’s more on the ground than in his body.

“Steve…Steve…you…can anyone please…Steve? We need backup! Steve’s hurt, he’s…Steve…Steve!” Dustin…That was Dustin’s voice, wasn’t it? “You gotta be okay, man!”

“Dustin…” That was Robin’s voice. Was she holding him? She sounded like she was in pain. Did he not do enough? Was she hurt?

“No!” He suddenly screams, his voice ringing in his ears, or maybe that was from the blood rapidly pumping in them. “No, he has to be! I can’t lose anyone else!” Dustin pulls the walkie-talkie up to his mouth once more, pleading, “Can anyone hear me? This is code red! I repeat, code red! We need someone, anyone! Please! Hopper…Mrs. Byers? Anyone?”

“Henderson?” He didn’t mean to speak, but despite the lack of intent to talk, the word was still so difficult to form.

“Yes, Steve, I-we’re here, buddy,” he rushes out, the sentence tumbling from his lips as if the faster he speaks, the quicker that Steve would heal.

“Robbie?” His voice is fading as he continues to speak.

“Shh, I’m right here, dingus,” she whispers. “But try not to talk, alright? You’re banged up pretty bad.”

“Oh.” His mind was getting foggier, but it was something he was grateful for because he couldn’t feel the pain. He just felt tired. “Are you guys okay?”

“Yes, yes,” Dustin answers, his voice cracking under the weight of a humorless laugh bubbling up past the lump in his throat. “We’re okay. Thanks to you, buddy, we’re all going to be okay.” Steve tries to nod but his head just lulls into the bend of Robin’s neck and shoulder.

“Good, good,” he mutters sleepily. “I just need to close my eyes for a bit longer.”

“No, Steve, please,” Robin whimpers, clutching him closer to her chest.

“It’s okay, Robs, everything’s okay.” And Steve believes that as he smiles up at the pair that are pleading with him to keep his eyes open just a bit longer. “I’m just happy you’re both safe.”

He can’t hear their voices anymore. They’re muddled, as if he’s underwater. He sees nothing in front of him, just waves of darkness for eternity. He feels nothing. He isn’t cold or warm, there’s just nothing. No more pain. And then he hears the gentle, broken, “Steve?” behind him from the last voice he expected to hear, yet it was one he desperately wanted to listen to again. Turning around he finds Eddie, his previously shredded and bloodstained Hellfire T-shirt now spotless underneath his leather jacket and battle vest. Wait, Steve thought that he had that vest in his room, tucked under his bed so no one would take it from him. It was greedy, he knew how much the boys wanted a piece of their Dungeon Master to remember him by, but he couldn’t part with it. He was allowed to be selfish just this once. But it seems that it was unnecessary as Eddie was standing right in front of him. He reaches out and touches his shoulder, making sure this wasn’t some sick dream or illusion, but he felt the heat from his body, the first sense he had of his own touch, and he throws his arms around Eddie, feeling the warmth spread in the embrace. But something felt off as Eddie gingerly wrapped his own arms around Steve’s frame, acting as if he were fragile, or like he was scared. Pulling back, Steve looked over Eddie again. He didn’t see any injuries. Shouldn’t he still be healing? He looks unscathed.

“Eddie, how are you alive?” Steve asks confused.

“I’m not, Steve,” he rasps out, choking on a small sob as Steve finally notices the tears streaming from his face.

“But then…”

“I’m sorry, Steve, but neither are you.”

[alloru]

bird update! or rather yard update, since this one only tangentially has to do with birds :p

the neighbor's cat greeted me today! so far I've only been able to observe her from afar as she did her thing, but this morning she came up to my window and meowed lots until I noticed her.

she didn't seem distressed, so we just had a nice and polite conversation with each other. it seems that me being there was new for her too, since I was up a little earlier than usual.

here's some observations I made during her short visit: she is neither very fluffy or very not-fluffy, so basically a normal cat shape, although she looks very young (not a kitten, but maybe a teenage/young adult cat if you can call it that). her eyes are also very big and pretty!

she seems to be very curious and friendly - overall, 10/10 experience, would definitely recommend meeting your neighbor's cat and having a chat with them :D

[kensatou]

those!!! are!!! his!!!! tits!!! be gentle 👉👈

[biggest-gaudiest-patronuses]

historical drama/sitcom where two gay best friends (woman and man) get lavender married--and proceed to spend the Fancy European Honeymoon their parents paid for acting as each other's wingman

[ckarlova]

It’s time for a new champion to rise…