#domestic arguments

[lyssa010387]

Oh, fuck me sideways, that was some unexpected unearthing of unresolved long-term trauma.

Never thought I'd say "don't make me go there again" so soon, but it goes to show that I'm (hopefully) out of that terrible mental time attached to my PPD back then.

[aventurineswife]

reserved and quiet wife suddenly lashes out her anger onto husband, dan he g, jiaoqiu, and aven bcz she always bottles up her emotions

husband then leaves her to calm and cool down after a heated arguement

then wifey comes back and apologizes… fluffy at the end plz🥺 thanks pooks

Breaking Point

Tags: Dan Heng x Reader, Jiaoqiu x Reader, Aventurine x Reader, Female!Reader (but can be read as GN), Fluff, Angst, Emotional Healing, Argument, Apology, Hurt/Comfort, Relationship Growth, Comforting, Domestic.

Warnings: Mild swearing, Argument between married couple, Emotional tension, Overwhelming feelings of frustration and guilt, Possible mild references to past trauma (Aventurine).

A/N: hehe you're welcome, pookie! 🤭💖

It had been a long, quiet evening aboard the Astral Express. The hum of the train and the soft glow of distant stars were usually a comfort, but tonight, something was off. You had kept your emotions to yourself all day, simmering with a growing frustration that you couldn’t quite shake. Your husband, Dan Heng, had been focused on his duties, just as always—stoic, reserved, and quietly determined. But the silence between you both had stretched on longer than usual, and the weight of unspoken words was beginning to suffocate you.

When the argument finally erupted, it was sudden, raw, and jagged. The words tumbled from your lips like a dam breaking. You shouted, unable to stop the anger that had built up over time—the frustration, the loneliness, the feeling of being invisible. “You never listen to me!” you cried, your voice trembling with the intensity of your emotions. “I’m always here, always by your side, but you never look at me. You’re always so focused on your duties!”

Dan Heng stood frozen for a moment, his eyes wide with surprise. He was usually so controlled, but he had never seen you like this. The storm of emotion that suddenly overtook you caught him off guard. He stepped back slowly, his brow furrowed in confusion, trying to process your words.

“[Name],” he said softly, his tone strained. “I didn’t realize you felt that way… but I can’t… I don’t know how to fix this right now.”

He didn’t raise his voice, but the weight of his words hung heavily in the air. He turned and walked toward the door, his back to you as he left, not out of spite, but because he knew that things were too heated to resolve at that moment. You could hear his footsteps echoing down the hall.

Alone in the room, your anger quickly turned to guilt. You stood there, breathing heavily, feeling your heart pound in your chest. You didn’t want to hurt him, but you had felt so invisible, so unheard for so long. Why hadn’t you spoken up sooner?

Hours passed, and as the silence in the room stretched on, you couldn’t bear it anymore. You needed to make things right. Your heart was heavy, and the thought of Dan Heng feeling the same weight of the argument was unbearable.

You found him standing by the observation window, looking out into the vast, star-filled sky. The sight of him—so distant, so cold—only made the ache in your chest grow.

“Dan Heng…” you called softly, your voice faltering. He didn’t turn, but you could see his shoulders tense. You stepped closer, the words tumbling out in a rush. “I’m sorry. I was wrong to yell at you. I should’ve talked to you, but I was angry, and I bottled everything up. Please, I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

Dan Heng remained silent for a long moment, the air thick with unspoken tension. Finally, he turned to face you, his gaze softening as he saw the sincerity in your eyes. “I never wanted to hurt you either,” he said quietly, his voice just above a whisper. “I should have noticed sooner.”

You closed the distance between you, your heart swelling with relief. Dan Heng reached out, gently taking your hand in his, his grip warm and reassuring. He pulled you close, his forehead resting against yours.

“I’m sorry too,” he murmured, his voice filled with quiet sincerity. “We’ll figure this out together.”

You smiled softly, your anger and frustration melting away as you leaned into him, letting the warmth of his embrace fill the space between you both. In that moment, everything felt right again.

The night was quiet, and the gentle rustle of the trees outside was the only sound breaking the silence in your shared home. Jiaoqiu sat at the desk, working on his alchemical formulas, the soft glow of his lantern casting shadows across his thoughtful face. As always, he was lost in his thoughts, his mind consumed by the weight of his work.

But tonight, you were different. The pressure had been building for days, emotions that you had carefully kept bottled up now threatening to spill over. You had always tried to support Jiaoqiu, always patient, always understanding. But the truth was that you had been struggling with your own emotions, feelings of neglect, of loneliness.

And now, with all of that pent-up frustration, you couldn’t hold back anymore. “Why do you always have your head buried in your work?” you snapped, your voice sharp, the anger you had been keeping inside for so long finally making its way out. “It’s like I’m invisible to you, Jiaoqiu! I’m here, I’m trying to talk to you, but you’re always so distant!”

Jiaoqiu froze, his hand pausing mid-motion as he turned to look at you. His eyes, usually calm and composed, flickered with surprise and concern. “[Name]… I didn’t know you felt this way,” he said, his voice soft but tinged with hurt.

The sight of his confusion only fueled the fire of your anger. “I’m always trying to make everything okay, but I can’t do this alone! I can’t keep pretending that everything is fine when it’s not!”

Without another word, you stormed out of the room, needing space, needing time to think. You heard Jiaoqiu’s soft sigh from behind you, but you couldn’t face him just yet.

You spent hours pacing the house, the weight of your emotions still lingering, but slowly, the anger began to subside, replaced by regret. You had never meant to lash out at him, especially not after everything he had done for you. He had always been there for others, but maybe you hadn’t been giving him the same kind of space to take care of himself.

When you finally returned to the room, Jiaoqiu was sitting in the same spot, though now he was staring out of the window, his posture slightly slumped. You could see the subtle tension in his shoulders, a reflection of his inner turmoil.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice trembling slightly as you approached him. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I was angry, and I took it out on you. I should’ve talked to you earlier, but I didn’t know how.”

Jiaoqiu slowly turned to face you, his eyes filled with understanding. He stood, closing the distance between you both with a soft smile. “I should’ve seen it sooner,” he said gently, reaching out to cup your cheek. “I’m sorry too. I know I get lost in my work sometimes, but that doesn’t mean I don’t care about you.”

You sighed in relief as his hand gently brushed against your skin, your heart finally finding peace. “Thank you for understanding.”

He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “We’ll work through this, together.”

Aventurine had always been a man of calculated risks, a master of manipulation, and someone who kept his emotions well-guarded. He smiled through every situation, carefully crafting his words to match the situation. But tonight, that facade cracked.

You had been patient, so patient with him, letting him play his games, letting him keep his distance. But it was getting harder and harder. You were tired—tired of feeling like an afterthought, tired of always being the one to hold everything together while he took chances, calculated moves, and smiled like everything was just a game.

And when the argument broke out, it was like a dam bursting open. “Why do you always treat everything like a game, Aventurine?” you shouted, your voice filled with a mixture of anger and frustration. “Why is it that I’m just another move in your little strategy? Why don’t I matter to you?”

Aventurine’s smile faltered for a moment, but it quickly returned, though there was an edge to it now. “[Name], I didn’t mean to make you feel that way,” he said, his tone still smooth but with an underlying tension. “You know how I am. This is just how I work.”

“Exactly!” you spat. “You never stop! You never see me, really see me! I’m always second place to your games, Aventurine!”

He stepped back, his eyes narrowing slightly as he processed your words. “I need some time to think.”

He turned and left, the door clicking shut behind him, leaving you standing there, feeling both empty and furious. How had things come to this?

Hours passed before you saw him again. You found him in his study, staring at a game of cards spread out in front of him, his fingers lightly tracing the edges of the cards. His usual charm was gone, replaced by a quiet stillness.

You hesitated before approaching, your heart heavy with regret. “Aventurine…” you whispered, your voice barely above a breath. He didn’t look at you at first, but then his gaze slowly lifted to meet yours.

“I’m sorry,” you said softly. “I shouldn’t have lashed out at you. I was frustrated, and I… I just didn’t know how to handle it. I’m sorry.”

For the first time in a long while, Aventurine’s smile was not one of calculation but of genuine warmth. He stood and walked toward you, his steps slow, measured. “No, [Name]. It’s my fault. I’ve been so wrapped up in my own games that I forgot what really matters. I’ll do better. I promise.”

You smiled, feeling the weight lift off your chest as he reached out, pulling you close. His arms wrapped around you, and for once, there were no games, no strategies—just the quiet comfort of being with someone who truly understood.

“Thank you for staying with me,” you whispered, resting your head against his chest. “You matter to me.”

Aventurine’s voice was soft, sincere. “And you matter to me, more than anything.”

[pianokantzart]

We all know about how Luigi turns into a fox rather than a tanuki when he touches the super leaf, but I also want to talk about how he's the only one out of his friends who doesn't turn into a normal house cat when he touches the cat bell?

This is a bengal cat (a common house cat breed):

This is an Asian leopard cat (looks like a house cat, but is shy and elusive in nature and requires an enormous outdoor enclosure):

Look at Luigi's ears compared to the ears on everyone else!

They're rounded!

His ass is not a house cat.

[mintedwitcher]

Tbh I can't help laughing about the "Lou doesn't like sex scenes!" criers because like.... girlypop what show have you been watching? None of the characters have Actual explicit sex scenes.

There are implied ones (madney, bathena, henren) and fade-to-black ones (Athena and her hookup in s1, Hen and her ex) and even post-sex scenes (Eddie/Shannon, Eddie/Marisol, Buck and his hookups in s1) but this is not the show for gratuitous sex scenes so like. What are yall gloating about? Ooh the new guy on the "we don't do explicit sex scenes" show doesn't want to do explicit sex scenes. Oh noooooo. This is totally unheard of and is totally a reason to hate him (heavy on the sarcasm if you can't tell).

Literally get up girlypop you're throwing a tantie about a scenario you made up in your head. "Bucktommy can't thrive since Lou refuses to do explicit sex scenes" no one on this show does explicit sex scenes. It's literally a non-starter.

[ziorite]

what’s gayer folks, doing it in the ass or arguing with another man about how he abandoned you and your son in the middle of a grocery store?

bonus: buck trying to discuss visitation like he’s christopher’s dad and not just eddie’s friend

[tennistalksisterstyle]

“So are Andy Murray and Novak Djokovic still together?”

- my mom, forever unintentionally making things sound gay af

[ddagent]

Me, Yesterday: I should write a '5 times Margo and Sergei went to bed together (g-rated)' story. Nah. No one wants to read just domestic fluff.

Y'all, commenting on Convenience today...

[bnsni]

idk if I should make this au a series but here you go <3 (au explanation in the tags bc I don't want to spoil)

mouse-verse IMPASSIVITY is at an all time high. Prowl struggles to ignore the nudge against his ribs. A locked jaw, optics for slits are the best he's got under pressure. Even, better — bared dentas to deter trouble.

But there's something about Bumblebee — that punk is trying his patience, unfazed by the enforcer's abrasive demeanor. He's pushing it. Pushing it hard. Without even a glance, he's sure as Primus's aft a chesire grin is leeching from that face.

"And, what's the status?" His audials picked up on Optimus's voice, a blur of red and blue not too far in the laboratory from where he stood. Prowl straightens. Ah, professional. Be professional. He can't be seen behaving inappropriately.

Then, he hears your voice and loosens visibly.

"Neutral, sir. For now, at least. It'll come round eventually. But I'll try to stabilize it."

Prowl shifts, almost imperceptibly, on his pedes. The scout is now focused on a bubbling flask. A digit out, prodding the capped casing. Phosphorus, Prowl recognizes. Vanilla crystals blossomed at the bottom and explosively so. But he bites back a chastise — if the yellow bug is broken out of his curious stance, Prowl might not be able to grasp this chance to, well, have a look.

So, he tilts his helm and lets his optics skim, much the same as he does when he's scheming — a search for your figure amidst all the beams and laboratory apparatus of the room is discreet.

It was organized, clean. You fixed your workspace often. Adored organizing your paperwork in neat little bundles. He discerned some stacks under your desk with those pastel straps you always hoard from the nearest stationary shops.

That is the decorum, the attitude of a proper soldier. It is what he'd like to see in everyone's workstation. Clean and logically organized.

Once his optics caught your eyes, he swivels away. His doorwings piked up, much to his chagrin. A side periphery of a smile curling your mouth didn't help the flare of warmth prickling the back of his neck , running all the way up to his forehead. His frown becomes all the more apparent.

And, of course bumblebee notices.

"Can it." He grits out before he could say anything else.

Bumblebee just shrugs but the slag-eating grin is still there. "Didn't say I warned ya, buddy."

"Don't call me buddy." He says coldly. " I am not your buddy. I am your commanding officer and you will refer to me properly as such."

"Eugh, leave it for Ironhide to decide. I'm not here on a debate for ranks."He elbows his rib plates with a wag of his brows. "What I'm here for, though...." He trails off, and shimmies a crab dance to block his view.

Prowl grimaces and retaliates by looking above the horns of his head. "Enough. You're making a fool out of yourself." He bares out.

"Oooh. Someone's quite the looker, huh."

"And, you're about to gain a look of a lifetime, through physical means."

"Prowl suggested I seek your advice."

Both bots stiffen at the sound of pedes approaching. The Prime has his servos folded behind his back, hunching, and tilting his helm so he could regard your face. You trotted beside him, a hand shoved into the pocket of your labcoat and the other swiveling a pen.

"Oh, did he?" You stop before the enforcer.

The fat of your cheeks pulled into a smile.

"I did." Prowl clips. "You specialise in force fields — an expertise greatly suitable for that area of predicament."

Bumblebee adds "A great suitor for the other— hrrk!"

Prowl shoves an elbow against his ribs. The yellow bugs keels over, wheezing. Optimus raises an eyebrow. What he thinks of it is left unsaid as he turns to you.

"This won't be too demanding of me?"

"No, not at all." You wave placatingly. "I'm busy but this isn't' something of a problem I can't handle. I'll have the blueprints by dawn."

The Prime pats your shoulder, optics gentle as he heads for the sliding doors. "Have a good evening, mouse."

"You too, sir."

"And, you t—"

Prowl shoves the yellow bug outside, locking the laboratory pad with a few quick punch of his digits for good measure. When he's sure the two silhouettes are gone, he vents through clenched teeth and tries to conceal his irritation. Though, proven futile with how his doorwings twitch.

He's had enough, for today.

"Bothersome?" You mused.

"A work in paradise."

He swivels around and despite the smooth mask he's locked in, almost jumps at your close proximity.You're standing there, chin tilted up — he's already faltering, surprise shown through a quick flick of his doorwings.

"And, you say I'm not so discreet." You make a show of teetering on your toes.

He rolls his optics but complies nonetheless, lowering his helm but not his shoulders. He won't make it easy. No, not too low or you'll get a pass — he wants you to beg for it.

"Terrible." He chuffs. "Of all the soldiers I've assessed, you mouse, are the worst at discretion. Impulsivity seems to be a close friend, for you."

"But what does that make you, then?" Your lips, soft and pliable, are inches away from his chin.

He resist lowering his helm any further. But much to his dismay, Prowl slants his helm, counteracting his locked coding of not caving in.

"Reckless." He breathes out. "Worse than when Smokescreen toddled away with illicit high-grade."

A loose giggle bubbles from your lips, a sweet sound he shamelessly saved in his processors. Though, iritation paints his features when he recognizes the signs. You're deliberately stalling. Deliberately ignoring his advances. He bares his teeth, exasperated at the fact he has to spell it out.

"Kiss me."

"Oh?" You tilt away, a coy playful grin. "Why would I do that, officer when discretion is at play here?"

"Because we're behind closed doors. Because if you dont, you're disobeying a direct command from your superior. And because —" Agitation pulls at his face and digits pinched your chin, pulling you close."— i've missed you."

It's not often he's affectionate. You're always the one pulling the trigger first — but when he does it, you find it oddly endearing of how desperately he wants it.

"Kiss me." He says again.

And, that was enough for you to close the distance. Hands on his shoulder plates as you lean up to catch his lips. Instantly, he melts into your touch, servos gripping your waist.

[deadlydelicious]

I'm just going to stop my rewatchs at 6x04, maybe watch the elevator scenes, then loop back to 5x01 to keep my chenford heart happy

[wonder-worker]

[Matilda of Boulogne's] thorough integration into the governance of the realm was not repeated in [Eleanor of Aquitaine's] years as queen of England. Eleanor's coronation followed a new model that emphasized the queen as progenitor of royal heirs and subordinate to the king rather than as sharer of royal power. Though Eleanor acted as regent in England between 1156 and 1158 and in Poitou on several occasions from 1165 on, her writs suggest delegated rather than shared royal authority. In England, her power was limited by the lack of lands assigned to her use and by the elaboration of financial and judicial administration. Whereas [Matilda of Boulogne's] inheritance allowed her to play an integral role in politics by securing the Londoners' loyalty and a steady supply of mercenaries, Eleanor's inheritance provided her with more extensive power in Poitou and Aquitaine than in England. Until 1163, Eleanor withdrew funds from the Exchequer by her own writ, but unlike her Anglo-Norman predecessors, she was not a member of its council nor did she issue judgments from the royal court. Eleanor's counsel and diplomatic activities, in contrast to Matilda's, are rarely mentioned. She did, however, encourage the 1159 Toulouse campaign and supported Henry in the Becket affair and the coronation of young Henry. Eleanor was not a prominent curialis; she rarely witnessed Henry's charters or interceded to secure the king's mercy. She did follow in Matilda's footsteps in her promotion of her sons, cultivation of dynastic goals through the Fontevraudian tombs, and patronage that reflected her family's traditions. For Matilda, to be queen encompassed a variety of functions-curialis, diplomat, judge, intercessor, and "regent." Through a combination of factors, Eleanor's role as queen was much more restricted.

— Heather J. Tanner, "Queenship: Office, Custom or Ad Hoc", Eleanor of Aquitaine: Lord and Lady (Edited by Bonnie Wheeler and John Carmi Parsons)

[transingthoseformers]

Hi I wanted to complain to someone that I found out that there's like no sunderfroid content 😔😔😔😔😔😔😔 searched for fics yesterday and there's like 19 whole things on ao3 😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔

IKR??? Sunderfroid is underrated, especially for how complicated it could be

[bennidraws]

they're what kids these days call "toxic" 😞

(something something being an asshole who enjoys provoking his partner but being married to a wife that got diagnosed with hysteria)

[shutit-haha]

Crybaby Pt.1

"Oh don't tell me you're gonna start fucking crying." He huffed, tugging at is hair, while he rolled his eyes and snarled. His poor little spitfire, your eyes were all glossy, jaw clenched. You only ever cried after you snapped at someone, and well this was Katsuki. This was the love of your fucking life, your reason for existing, you never snapped at him. Same way how he never yelled or snapped at you, least not in an argument.

"I'm not gonna cry," then why were your words so shaky. You were doing your best to suppress both your tears and anger. The stare you gave him was your way of being scary, but of course his lovely girl only looked small to him. So as frightening as others found that hard stare to be, he only wanted to kiss your lips swollen.

"Don't start fuckin' crying." He was all up in your space now, looming and domineering an attempt to remind you who the fuck he was. This wasn't about putting you in your place (it never was) it was about you remembering his.

"Or what you'll get rid of me too." He had chosen someone else over Kirishima today, claiming that it was a strength thing. Frankly it pissed you the fuck off and even hurt Kiri a little. You knew your boyfriend hadn't really meant it that way, but he could have at least tried to say it nicely.

"You're being too fucking sensitive," he was starting to sound just like them.

"You're being too much of a dick," you as well. You were shaking from the frustration, absolutely fuming from how irate you were.

"You gonna fuckin' cry," he grinned. "too much of a dick," he brought himself closer to your ear. "Usually what you shout in bed."

You backed away from him, "are you even listening?" You didn't want the make up sex, you wanted him too learn. The idiot knew that, he just wanted you to stop looking at him like that; all disappointed and angry. The bulk of man could only think of dumbing you down with his cock, preferred when you were crying 'cause of that, when you looked at him like he was a god. "Bakugo," fuck did he prefer when that mouth of yours was full.

"Stop that shit already."

"When you look me in the eyes." The asshole had been staring down your shirt the whole time. "You know forget it, clearly you're a fucking kid. I'm not gonna waste my time with little boys, when you're ready to be a man come talk to me."

"Oh don't be such a prissy fucking crybaby, immature for no fucking reason."

You slammed the bedroom door behind you, gasping for air from your tightening windpipe. A crybaby! He had the audacity to call you a fucking crybaby and... here you were crying. You locked the door just as soon as you shut it, leaning back against it only to ultimately sit on the floor. You were a crybaby, the bastard was right.

[scream-cam]

“you better drink that”

phresh corner of the phouse

[thegroundhogdidit]

loumand is yaoi cocaine to me

[rozaceous]

@vermillioncrown

you know...