#mutual love and understanding….

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Look what we've become.

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[iinsawdious]

[edorazzi]

I almost forgot it was Sunday, eek! 😱

Page 20 of my Miraculous Mentor AU comic A Matter of Trust! In which Adrien comes to terms with the past Ladybug and Chat Noir despising each other, but has questions about Felix's strange loyalty to the Miraculous! 👀💍

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Weekly updates each Sunday! You can also read ahead early on Patreon, and/or buy me a Ko-fi if you'd like to support my work! 💖

[sophsun1]

That's a free-baser I befriended for a few days at the drug den. He told me to get my shit together and then he Richard Pryor'd in front of me. Everyone scrambled, but I stuck around, watched him burn. What's always confused me was that you know, he said those words to me, and he was already all burnt up. Figured I'd conflated the two events. But I didn't. Because it was you.

Interview With The Vampire – 2.05: Don't Be Afraid, Just Start the Tape

[bunnyboy-juice]

NO MORE ASSOCIATING THINGS WITH FEMMES ONLY BECAUSE THEY ARE PINK!HYPERFEM FEMMES ARE GREAT AND I LOVE YOU CAMPY FEMMES WHO EMBODY PINK BUT ALSO JESUS CHRIST CAN YOU GUYS NOT GO MORE THAN ONE DAY W/O TRYING TO SHOEHORN FEMMES INTO BEING ONLY PINK UWU BABIES. I AM FEMME AS IN GRASS AS IN DIRT AS IN TREE BARK AS IN WEEDS SPROUTING THROUGH THE SIDEWALK CEMENT. FEMME AS IN GENDER NONCONFORMITY AS IN FUCK YOU MY FEMININITY IS WHAT *I* SAY IT IS. FEMME AS IN DEPTH AND DARKNESS AND WARMTH AND TERROR. FEMME AS IN CAVES. FEMME AS IN LIGHTNING. FEMME AS IN AN AMALGAMATION OF TRAITS THAT I HAVE DECIDED ARE FEMININE REGARDLESS OF WHAT SOCIETY SAYS. FUCK IS IT THAT HARD TO UNDERSTAND?!???

[aventurineswife]

Relationship hcs for Dan Heng? 🤭😊🙏

Dan Heng Relationship HCs

Dan Heng isn't one for grand gestures. Instead, his affection shows in subtle ways—like remembering small details about you, leaving you little things he thinks you might need, or giving you a silent but meaningful look. It’s a quiet but deep kind of love, where actions speak louder than words.

He is naturally protective and often keeps a watchful eye on you, especially when you’re exploring new or dangerous places together. Although he may try to keep his emotions hidden, his protective nature often slips through, especially when he senses any threat toward you.

Given his introverted nature, Dan Heng values personal space, both his own and yours. He is sensitive to your need for solitude or personal time and appreciates it when you offer him the same. He views it as a mutual understanding, a respect for each other's boundaries that strengthens your connection.

Dan Heng rarely opens up about his past, but over time, he’ll let you in on small fragments. If you encourage him, he finds comfort in your presence, and he may gradually reveal his vulnerabilities. Your unwavering support and understanding become a source of strength for him, even if he doesn't always express it directly.

You learn to enjoy comfortable silences together, finding peace in just being by each other’s side. He doesn't feel the need to fill the quiet with words, and with you, he can finally let his guard down without worrying about being judged or misunderstood.

With you, he starts to open up emotionally in ways he never thought possible. You manage to draw out a rare smile from him now and then, which makes him feel slightly embarrassed but happier than he’ll admit. These moments are rare, but they become treasured memories for both of you.

Dan Heng respects your abilities, whether it’s in combat or otherwise. He might offer to spar or train with you, and these sessions become a way for you to bond. His combat tips are often delivered with a calm demeanor, and he occasionally slips into a protective role if he thinks you’re getting too close to danger.

Dan Heng isn’t naturally physically affectionate, but he’ll occasionally reach for your hand or brush a stray strand of hair from your face, usually when words aren’t enough to convey his feelings. These gestures feel almost sacred, as he rarely shares such intimate contact with anyone else.

When he does open up, it’s usually in the quiet hours of the night. You’ll find him sitting by a window on the Astral Express, lost in thought, and he’ll invite you to join him. These rare conversations often reveal the depths of his thoughts and fears, allowing you to understand him on a much deeper level.

With his tumultuous past, Dan Heng sometimes struggles with self-doubt. Your presence becomes a calming influence, anchoring him whenever he feels overwhelmed. Knowing he has you by his side gives him a newfound sense of purpose and a small but powerful hope for a better future.

[rax-writes]

↬ when night falls

Tywin Lannister x Reader

intended to be a sequel to the morning after, but it's not necessary that you read it prior to this

Warnings: Smut, MDNI, 18+ ONLY ⇆ P in V sex, unprotected sex, creampie, age gap, nipple play, bit of breeding kink, mentions of pregnancy, pregnant!reader

The journey from Winterfell to King's Landing took considerably longer than necessary, given the Queen's insistence that she travel in that godsforsaken carriage of hers. As such, five weeks after your marriage to Tywin Lannister, you were spending one final night in a lavish red and gold tent alongside your lord husband.

For the entirety of the journey, the two of you spent the entire day apart – your horse trotting behind your father and King Robert, and Tywin a short distance behind, alongside Ser Jamie. Occasionally, Arya would pester you into allowing her to sit in front of you on the saddle, as you quietly conversed with her and taught her how to control the horse. But, aside from that, you were alone with your thoughts all day, every day.

The nights, however, were spent in the arms of your lord husband.

The two of you quite quickly developed a very… peculiar dynamic. You had quickly learned and adapted to the way the fearsome Tywin Lannister operates – preferring you speak concisely and directly, vehemently uninterested in anything otherwise. Additionally, there was a degree of mutual respect, as well as a vaguely guarded openness to one another – but certainly no love, or any semblance of romantic feelings at all. In truth, you assumed there never would be.

But gods was there lust.

On your end, it was your first and only experience with sex, and it was undeniably good, so you were eager for it. On his end… you couldn't be sure. It could be that the man was pent up from years as a bachelor, but it would be safe to assume he had simply sent for a whore when the mood struck him. A more likely reason would be his pursuit of an heir, but surely he wouldn't have needed to fill your cunt nightly to achieve that goal. No, you were almost certain that he was simply enjoying fucking you – just as much as you were enjoying fucking him.

When Tywin entered the tent, you were sitting on the edge of the cot, toying with the goblet in your hands, already undressed to your shift. He met your eyes as he entered, but said nothing, that unreadable (but somehow always leaning toward annoyed) expression on his face. He silently began taking off his boots, then removed his sword and placed it beside the cot. He was in the middle of pouring wine into his goblet when you found the courage to ask your question.

"Will you stop bedding me when I become pregnant?"

Tywin said nothing, setting the pitcher down and turning to face you as he took a sip of his wine. He wore that calm, calculating expression as he stared at you – but you could swear there was a hint of amusement in his eyes. The golden goblet made a faint clank as he set it down before speaking.

"Do you ask because you wish for me to stop? Or because you wish for me to continue?"

"I wish for you to continue."

"Then I shall continue," Tywin stated, the ghost of a smile on his lips.

"Good," you replied, then added, "Because I am."

"You are what?"

"Pregnant."

The smile dropped and Tywin's eyebrows raised, making his forehead crinkle.

"Already?" he inquired dryly, surprised. Then, incredulous, he asked, "How do you know?"

It was a fair question. You had never been pregnant before, so perhaps you were mistaking soreness and fatigue from travel as signs of pregnancy. But no. You knew.

"I should have bled three weeks ago, but I have not. My breasts are extremely tender, and certain smells make my stomach turn."

Tywin nodded, then stated, "I do not doubt that you are right, but we will have a Maester provide his confirmation and look you over when we arrive in King's Landing. In the meantime, is there anything you need?"

A faint but wicked smile spread across your face, and you stood from the bed, setting the goblet down as you slowly made your way over to him. The metal of his armor was cold beneath your fingers as you idly ran your hands over his chest, before toying with the belt around his hips, looking up at him through your lashes.

"You," was your simple answer. But both of you knew that it wasn't meant in a romantic, sweet sort of way.

Tywin's hand reached up to cradle your face, somewhat harshly, hooking his thumb under your jaw to tilt your head up and kiss you. It was lustful and full of desire, accompanied by the scratch of his beard upon the delicate skin of your face.

When he pulled away, Tywin smiled quite faintly, then hummed lowly and said, "Well, what sort of man would I be to deny his pregnant lady wife her wish?"

The old lion made quick work of removing his armor and smallclothes, and relieving you of the thin linen shift you wore, before guiding you to the luxurious cot. Tywin continued to kiss you, eventually trailing kisses down your neck, until he reached your chest, unexpectedly taking one of your breasts into his mouth and swirling his tongue around it.

The sensation nearly made you shout, opting to take in a sharp breath instead as your back arched off the blankets. Eyes squeezed shut, you heard a low chuckle, and looked down to see a set of very amused, crystalline eyes staring up at you.

"Hm, I see you were not exaggerating about the sensitivity."

Electing to ignore him, you let your head fall back onto the pillow. However, it seemed he did not intend to grant you any reprieve, moving to the other breast and doing the same thing – prompting you to dig your nails into his shoulders and bite your lip to avoid crying out. Unfortunately, that made matters worse, as Tywin let out a low groan with his lips still wrapped around your nipple, earning a loud, pitiful whine from you.

Seemingly enjoying himself, Tywin began peppering your chest with gentle bites, which he soothed with his tongue afterwards, sure to become small little bruises by morning. Breathy moans and sighs of pleasure filled the tent, as he then resumed his ministrations on the hardened peaks of your breasts before snaking one hand down to toy with your clit, expertly rubbing it in small, steady circles. Astoundingly fast, your release washed over you, soaking his hand as you moaned and writhed beneath the Warden of the West – who only chuckled darkly at your quick climax.

Noticing that the continued kisses and licks upon your breasts began to make you twitch, Tywin captured your lips in a brief, rough kiss, before rolling onto his back. He then pulled you into his lap, with a strength one wouldn’t assume the older man to still possess – which was, admittedly, arousing. Your mind was still foggy from the orgasm, and your movements were not unlike a rag doll, eyes half-lidded and jaw slack, moving somewhat limply as you allowed him to maneuver you. He gripped his hard, leaking cock in one hand, then reached behind you to urge you forward with a flat palm on the small of your back.

A hiss through gritted teeth escaped Tywin, and you gasped lightly, head thrown back and hands flat on his chest. Although you’d already lost count of how many times he’d taken you, it still felt more incredible than anything you’d ever experienced. A passing thought reminded you of the fact that he seemed to share the sentiment, always hissing or groaning when he first sheathed himself inside you.

Tywin’s grip moved to your hips, prompting you to begin rocking them against his own, keeping your pace steady. However, he made no move to halt you when you eventually began to move faster, leaning back to rest your hands on his thighs as you fucked yourself on his long, thick cock. The sound of it alone would have made a Septa drop dead – a symphony composed of wet skin upon skin and gruff grunts intermingling with breathy moans.

He reached up to grasp and knead your breasts in his rough, calloused hands – but he then surprised you, his hands drifting lower, until they rested flat against your lower stomach. You thought perhaps he was focusing on the movement of your hips, but then his thumbs began to stroke across the soft skin of your belly.

At first, it seemed very sweet and sentimental. You thought that perhaps he was basking in the joy of another child being on the way – until you felt the way his cock throbbed, deep inside of you, as he stared intently at your belly. Immediately, you came to the realization that it must be arousing for a man to have successfully fucked a babe into his wife – stroking their ego and their pride to have done their husbandly duty, as well as show everyone that you belong to them.

Truth be told, you were surprised to learn that it aroused you just as much.

Tywin groaned as you clenched around him, and when his eyes flicked up to meet yours, it felt as though he knew you had been thinking the very same thing he was.

That seemed to ignite something within your husband, and in the blink of an eye, Tywin flipped you onto your back and began driving into your soaked cunt with a newfound ferocity. You bit down on your knuckle to keep quiet, but Tywin pinned both of your wrists down, his arms on either side of your head. The act did not last much longer beyond that point, both parties having already been too near the precipice of climax, and the pair of you met your releases in unison.

Tywin rolled off of you, breathing heavily, a light layer of sweat covering his chest, along with the small patches of silver hair. You allowed yourself a few moments of recovery, before moving to leave the cot in order to extinguish the candles, as well as tidy yourself up. However, Tywin grabbed your arm to stop you.

“Where are you going?”

“The candles –”

“Can wait,” Tywin interrupted, voice sounding unbothered as always, albeit with a hint of fatigue. He exhaled slowly, as he gently pulled you back down to lay upon the cot beside him. “One of the guards outside can see to the candles in a moment. You are carrying my heir, so you are to rest. As much as is feasible, from now until the babe is born. And if anyone questions it, they are to discuss it with me.”

Anyone possessing the sense the gods gave a mule knows “discussing” something with Tywin Lannister was just the opposite – it was not to be addressed at all, because what Tywin Lannister says, goes. A fact which made you smile softly.

“As my lord husband commands,” you replied, a hint of sarcasm in your tone, but you did exactly as he bade you, pulling some of the blankets over you and nestling into the pillows. You were already yawning by the time Tywin called for a guard, who extinguished the candles, and bathed the room in darkness as you drifted into a deep, contented sleep.

[barousagi]

what if you came back wrong and your friends decided they didn't care and still wanted to be around you? still want to play with you? it doesn't matter what you say or how you try to shake them off. they won't leave you behind (not again). what if you came back wrong and your friends looked at you and said "i know you've changed. i've changed too. i'm looking at the new you, look at the new me too."

[nychthemeron-rants]

I really love Marcille and Laios' relationship so much. They have such a deep connection and clearly care about each other a lot. They have such a beautiful friendship that I don't understand how people genuinely think she hates him.

[appendectomy]

people talk a lot on here about wilson accepting house in his whole messed up neurotic entirety but not enough people talk about the inverse. wilson is an incredibly neurotic personality, and although house jibes him constantly for it, in practice he is actually very touchingly accepting and accomodating. i just watched 6x19 which is the episode house tries to break up sam and wilson by doing all of wilson's pet-peeves like stacking dishes in the dishwasher wrong so he'll blame sam and resent her. which yeah is hilariously possessive on the surface. but it also implies that 1. house is aware enough of wilson's eccentricities that he can immediately spot when something is going to irritate him, such as the whole milk-in-the-fridge-door thing, and 2. that house is not only reflexively aware of these eccentricities, but also that he accomodates them enough in their everyday lives that a re-emergence of these annoyances is noticeable to wilson. to the point he correalates it with sam re-entering his life instead of house meddling. and also maybe 3. that house is aware enough of wilson's behaviour and body language that he picks up on what annoys wilson without wilson having to tell him, because wilson hates doing that, or that wilson is comfortable enough around house that he doesn't mind sharing these pet-peeves with him even though he doesn't like sharing them with his romantic partners.

house hates things he veiws as illogical or pointless, he rags on wilson for his obsessiveness about health and appearances, but he also cares enough about wilson to actively change his behaviours to accomodate the things that irritate him. he puts the milk in the body of the fridge instead of the door, not because it's suggested he cares at all about prolonging its shelf life, but because he knows wilson cares. sam balks at wilson and disdainfully suggests he has ocd (which i consider a win for my personal projection onto wilson, but that's besides the point) when wilson brings up his own perfectionism. but house accepts wilson in his neurotic entirety, and accomodates him so that they can live together relatively happily. to me, that suggests that house understands wilson's obsessive tendencies better than most 'regular' people, probably because of his own obsessive tendencies, which makes them complement eachother quite well. wilson is the exception for house, house would give up his crusade against pointlessness and his desire to push people's buttons if it meant keeping wilson around. he'd do it all the while complaining, but he'd still do it. this is the kind of thing that really strikes me bc it shows how comfortable and routine house's love for wilson is. it's domestic, it's relenting, it's just who they are. house's love for wilson is lived-in.

[uzurakis]

knock knock ૮₍˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶₎ა

kiara . . . imagine kaiser as a dad ૮₍˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶₎ა ( a girldad specifically . . . he has three-four little girls :< )

i could swear to god that he had never considered being willing to have children in his life. having experienced abuse as a child, he veered away from the concept of a family and even from love itself. kaiser who’s not interested in building a family because he doesn't know any better and has never experienced a stable family. in fact, he doesn't even consider ending the trauma; he just doesn't give a damn anymore. he has no faith in love or miracles.

but suddenly, he found himself here, with three beautiful daughters who looked at him with eyes full of love and admiration. they were a constant reminder of a life he had never imagined for himself, and yet, they filled a void he hadn’t known existed.

he watched as his youngest daughter, barely three years old, toddled towards him with a giggle, her tiny hands reaching out for him. he gently scooped her up, fearing it might break, but her warmth against his chest soothed him down. her laughter was infectious, and despite himself, a smile tugged at his lips.

your voice called out from the kitchen, “michael, can you help with the twins? they’re arguing over the crayons again.”

kaiser sighed, but there was no real frustration behind it. “alright, i’m coming, mein liebling,” he replied, setting down the youngest and heading towards the living room where the chaos was in full swing.

when you joined him in the living room, you gave him a knowing smile. “you’re doing great, you know.”

but he shook his head, his eyes reflecting the turmoil of his past. “i never thought i’d be here,” he admitted quietly, showing another vulnerability of his. “i never thought i’d have a family, let alone be any good at this.”

you took his hand, squeezing it gently. “none of us know what we’re doing at first. but look at them, mein mann. they’re happy, and they love you. you’re their hero. du bist unser held.”

a lump formed in his throat, and he swallowed hard, unable to speak for a moment. “i just… i never had this,” he finally said. “i don’t know how to be a good father.”

“you are a good father, michael,” you insisted, eyes filled with conviction. “you’re here, you love them, and you try every day. that’s more than enough.”

he looked at you, his wife, the one who had seen through his walls and loved him despite everything. “i don’t deserve you,” he whispered.

you smiled, leaning in to kiss him softly. “you deserve all the happiness in the world, michael. and you deserve this family.”

[potatobugz]

may i have this dance

[misspermitted]

I’m on board with the “Adar was/is Celeborn” theory purely because I want this crack exchange -

Adar/Celeborn: You cheated on me with Sauron!

Galadriel: Well you also cheated on me with Sauron so the scales are balanced

Adar/Celeborn: What?? In what-

Galadriel: You left me, your wife, for 1000 years, to have a family and children with him

Adar/Celeborn: Okay, well, you fell in love with him. Which means you weren’t even in love with me in the first place. Which is worse

Galadriel: YOU LITERALLY HAD HIS CHILDREN

Adar/Celeborn: You married me for all eternity wiTHOUT EVEN BEING IN LOVE WITH ME

High King Gil-Galad, to Elrond: Still think he’s fake and they’re not married?

Elrond: Oh no, I take it back, they’re definit- oh my god Galadriel do not challenge him to a duel there is nothing wrong with your womb gods above

[yaralulu]

i love torturing eris in my fic by continuously mentioning just how much he looks like beron. like yes his father is the worst man alive and he has his face. yes beron’s gone and yet he’s there looking back at him every time he looks in the mirror. yes he’s now high lord and he’s wearing his father’s crown and he’s sitting on his throne and he looks just like him. he can’t escape him even in death 😄.

[waste-land-babey]

this talk about a maze runner reboot is so terrifying to me bc if it's bad i just have to die. like i will have no other choice but to die

[giddlygoat]

as much as i want to see fiddleford recover and enter his much-deserved era of good mental and physical health, i also want to see the effects of his head trauma follow him forever. it’s important to me that while he heal and find a level of normalcy and peace, he never return to his old self.

kind of a side bar, but it’s relevant so: i also think there’s something to be said about old man mcgucket’s confidence. boldness? idk how to describe it. i wouldn’t say his paranoid tendencies have vanished, but for the most part he’s. breezier. part of it is the brain damage, and maybe part of it is genuine self-evolution in the right direction. but i think the obsessive mind-wiping just… broke that part of his brain. it’s like he’s no longer affected by fear in the same way. and i hope we see strong traces of that damage until the day he dies.

it’s important to me that fiddleford heal and emerge into self-awareness once more. it’s important to me that ford still look at him as very much the same person, despite all of the damage. but he’s also changed severely and irreversibly. i think of old man mcgucket as a much rawer version of fiddleford in that he holds less reservations and has no filter. he’s healing but he’s also broken, and those scars will forever be visible. and that’s important to me because it also changes ford and fiddleford’s dynamic a lot.

ok one last sidebar, then i’m done. when i say it changes their dynamic i mean it in the way that because fiddleford now wears his heart on his sleeve and ford himself is a bit wiser about relationships, there is less self-sabotaging going on between them. romance or friendship wise. and if nothing else, they both feel they’re getting too old for biting their tongues, so i imagine the discussions of certain difficult topics comes a bit easier now.

like, given that they’ve both made many catastrophically terrible decisions over their lives, they have a better perspective on life in general and have had time to reorient their previously fucked priorities. ford lives with a lot of shame for how he treated stan, dealing with the devil, and bringing about the end times. fiddleford lives with a lot of shame for how he treated emma-may and tate, starting a cult that ruined lives [especially his own], and not to mention the multiple death robot incidents. even though they both had good intentions or else thought their actions were justified at the time [mostly], it all collapsed on their heads because these actions were ridiculously stupid.

i think all of this is part of why the rekindling of their friendship happened so easily. fiddleford is eager to forgive ford and embrace him because he’s learned first-hand what grief and paranoia can drive a person to do, and so he feels the best thing he can do is accept his old friend back into his life, no questions asked. maybe ford will forever think he doesn’t deserve it, but he learns to accept mcgucket’s kindness and tries to learn from it. they’re both healing even if it’ll never be Backupsmore again. it’s still them, despite it all.