#i will never be satisfied with anything i will never be happy

[beloveds-embrace]

(Arranged marriage to duke john price except it means you married four instead of one 👁️👁️)

Your marriage to Duke Price is one out of necessity: you need a husband before high society begins rumoring you to be a barren woman and too old to be married off, and Duke Price needs a wife who is able to take on Duchess duties of his duchies.

You do not expect love, though you suppose it’d be a nice bonus. You are merely glad that Duke Price is a reasonable handsome man, and he informs you on your wedding night that he will not force himself on you, and there is no need to immediately begin attemtping for an heir.

You take admirably to your new duties, have been raised practically for this purpose though the head butler Kyle is wonderful in helping you as well- actually all the servants have been wonderful towards you. You have regular dinners with John, though they are a bit stilted but at least Chef Johnny’s food is good enough you can easily forget the tense atmosphere. You can tell your husband is hiding something- you are sometimes barred from going to his office to him, certain rooms are not allowed for you, and you are not allowed anywhere near the letters addressed to him- but as long as it isn’t hurting you, why should you bother him? So you never ask, and he seems happy enough that you don’t.

Until you accidentally stumble upon him and Duke Riley exchanging tongues. Very heatedly, hands grasping and tugging on each other’s clothes and Duke Riley sat on your husband’s desk.

It’s hot.

What’s not so hot is the way they both look at you when they realize you are there. You stutter, face a red so fierce it’d put a furnace to shame, and bolt out of the room despite hearing John call your name.

And you also skip out on the dinners for now, pretending you are sick with the help of your maids and their makeup skills.

But suddenly, it’s like your eyes have been opened. It’s not just Duke Riley who seems to hold a part of your husband’s heart; the one time you gather enough courage to maybe go speak with John and address the situation, you see Kyle stumbling out all disheveled and flushed, though he has a very satisfied air around him. He freezes when he sees you, and your jaw drops.

“My lady-“

“I- I’ll just- I’m taking a walk! Alone!”

You go to the kitchens instead, hoping that Johnny would have something delicious you can eat. Maybe something cold enough to wash away the blush on your cheeks.

Johnny is weirdly silent, however, even as he whips up chocolate mousse for you. His silence is not normal, it feels… almost guilty…

You sighs, take in a deep breath, and gather your dress. “Johnny… are you too…-?”

“Aye, m’lady. But-“

You can’t take it anymore. You leave the kitchens, and go straight back to your bedroom to bury your face in your bed. It’s not as if you are upset! It’s just- a rather befuddling situation?

Two nights later, it’s John himself who comes to you. You had assumed it was one of your maids returning with a new jar of oil for your nightly hair routine, but it’s your husband. You are glad it’s winter, and you aren’t simply in a thin nightgown.

“Wife.” He says, voice steady yet strained.

“John.”

You can’t call him husband. You’ve spent the last two days thinking and you were… rather sad. You were in the way of whatever they had (you saw Kyle and Johnny kissing, Johnny specifically sending food addressed to Duke Riley), weren’t you?

John sighs, sitting down on the settee while you remain on your vanity. After a moment of awkward silence, he opens his eyes and looks at you. “…what do you want to remain silent about this?”

You blink, raising an eyebrow. “…huh?”

John’s fists clench. “How much do you want in return for your silence?”

Frowning, you set your brush down and fully turn to him even if you feel exposed despite your thicker nightgown. “Is this about your… partners?” You say the word delicately, then shake your head. “I want nothing, John. If you are worried about me starting anything, I won’t. I just… hope this doesn’t mean you will divorce me?”

Being a divorced woman might as well be a death sentence on its own.

He looks at you, shocked into silence, and you quickly explain; his relationships have nothing to do with you and you aren’t a petty woman, who are you to come between what he and they have? You only hope this won’t take away the protection this marriage gave you.

That night, thus, you and John reach an agreement you are sure both of you are satisfied with.

Except, months later, John is no longer satisfied.

With the ice broken between the two of you. The dinners have become so much more… relaxing and comfortable, far less than they had been. No secrecy was needed when you were around anymore, and you only giggle and look away, feigning innocence when they share tender kisses between one another… and the less polite kisses.

John can’t remain satisfied with this arrangement. You are such a sweet thing, now that he’s become to know you far better. He can see the way his men are looking at you now, something between fondness and hunger and want; Kyle helps you far more often now, despite your insistence that you can do it yourself. Even when you do it yourself, he stays by you and ensures you are comfortable.

And he joins your evening walks, arms looped as the two of you speak, laughing and giggling.

It’s similar to your late night chats with Johnny, where he plies your full of sweets and desserts until even your dreams are full of sweeter kisses you are sure will never be for you. Johnny, who cooks your favorites on hard days and who you heard from Kyle is even more serious about only having the best of the best in vegetables and meats and seasonings.

And Duke Riley… for all his stoicism, he is gentle with you. Even when he’d stared at you with doubt and mistrust, no doubt believing you to be lying to John and simply waiting for the shoe to drop and for you to ruin them. Yet it never happens, and now, during the galas you attend all dolled up on John’s arm and ignoring all murmurs about still having no children, you even dance with him and giggle at his terribly dry jokes, even share a few of your own with him.

Steadily, slowly, obliviously, John has watched each of his men fall for you. This, obviously, made you theirs. It made you his, more and more than you already were.

It’s why your current request is making him clench his glass in his hand, with Kyle looking on in displeasure as well, giving him subtle glances.

“-So that’s why I was asking, John,” you remain sweetly oblivious, adorned in a pretty dress Simon had gotten for you recently. “He will not spread any rumors, I’ll personally make sure of that-”

Your cheeks darken then, and you glance away. “I- I am… merely a bit- unsatisfied, if you understand my point. And the stable man is loyal to you, he wouldn’t say anything.”

It’s clear he needs to keep a better watch over you. Where and when did you even interact with his stable boy, Graves? Though he focused on your words.

Unsatisfied.

Well, he can’t have that, can he? You’ve done your wifely duties so admirably, it’s about time he took care of you as well… and maybe dealt with the baseless barren rumors as well. A baby would keep you nice and content and focused on them alone, wouldn’t it?

Oh yes. Yes, it would.

[endearng]

Stranger danger

Pairing: Spencer Reid x single mom!reader Summary: The power goes out. You and your daughter leave your apartment to find some light. Luckily, a stranger floods your being with it. WC: 2.1k Warnings: reader is scared of the dark; light mentions to stranger danger; it's a meet cute (guilty). Let me know if I missed anything. A/N: HI!!! I couldn't sleep so I decided to finish and post this one. I hope you guys enjoy it. Totally planning on a sequel for these three. Feedbacks are highly welcomed and appreciated. <3 Masterlist | Part 2

Spencer Reid was the most unnoticed and absent tenant of his building. His apartment was almost eerily quiet during most of the time, because of two main reasons. One, he was out of town often because of his job, of course, and, two, he didn't do much when he was there. He was a man who kept to himself whose idea of fun consisted of reading classic Literature. And don't take it the wrong way; not being around much didn't mean that he disliked his place, it was quite the opposite. He thoroughly enjoyed having a space to call his own, to organize, to cramp up the areas just the way he liked it. It gave him a sense of comfort, even though it felt lonely more often than not.

One of his neighbors had a child, he could tell that much because of the noises he would hear when he was around — while playing or the whining when she wanted something, after all, that's how kids usually behave. Spencer didn't mind them, of course, he was away for most of the time, so it wouldn't be rational to be bothered by a child acting like one. It was like being annoyed by an adult acting out, which did happen, but adults were supposed to be more self-aware than kids.

Although fairly acquainted with the routine of the family by putting pieces together from time to time (something his brain couldn't help but do, almost automatically), he had never seen their faces. He knew their voices and could even tell their footsteps apart. Sometimes, he would think about them. How did their day go, if everything was alright, if they ever addressed uncomfortable topics, if they ever had problems like his own frequently faced after they discovered about his mother's condition. He was acutely aware of the fact that those thoughts were the results of some sort of projection, almost like those neighbors were his personal novel to read and he longed to relate to its characters, because so much of his childhood had been ripped from him in ways he worried he could never recover from and terribly soon — he didn't remember ever knowing the sense of a loving, ordinary family like they apparently did and lived.

Today was a day off. He sat on his balcony, the summer breeze kissing his skin and messing up his hair, writing a letter to his mother. He tried his best to remain true to the commitment of making her a part of his life as a way to ease the guilt and sadness that gnawed at him for not being capable of caring for her properly by himself. He dearly missed Diana, he was his mother, after all. The only one who stood by him, even if not at her best, the only family he had left.

Satisfied with his writing, he finished the letter with a promise that he'd visit her soon. As he was folding the paper to put it inside the envelope, everything went black. The light left completely and, for a moment, he thought he had fainted because of the suddenness of it. That's when he heard the shrieking coming from the apartment next door and with a small chuckle, he deduced it was a power outage.

"Oookay, we don't need to panic, Oli, right? The light will be back in a few moments," he heard from the balcony next to his. It was the mother's voice, surely.

"Mommy, 'm scared," the little girl, Olivia, cried.

"I know, baby, but mommy is right here," was the answer provided, followed by the sound of a loud and exaggerated kiss. He heard the little girl giggle. "That's better, sweetie. Come on, let's talk. How are you feeling?"

"'m scared, but happy that you're here, mommy," she said.

"I'm happy to be with you, too, my girl," the woman cooed.

Spencer all but listened to the sweet interaction close to him. Unbeknownst to the woman, he held it even closer to his heart. It was one of the purest forms of love he had ever witnessed and he was grateful for them both during that time.

You, on the other hand, felt panic rising in your chest as the minutes passed and the dark still engulfed you, your little girl's voice the only comfort soothing you from time to time. Olivia was really scared of the dark, so as time went by, you tried to assure her that there was nothing to be scared of, and even if she was, she shouldn't feel embarrassed, that it was okay to express those feelings and that you were there for her. You were glad that she trusted you enough to believe those empty words, because you were terrified of the dark.

It all started as a kid. Not knowing what could be lurking in the shadows absolutely freaked you out and admiting it out loud was mortifying, so you did your best to hide it. If your daughter's reaction was anything to go by, you were doing a good job, so you relished on that.

Right now, it was becoming more and more difficult to play the part of the brave, fearless mother. So you started singing, soon enough followed by your daughter.

Super trouper lights are gonna blind me

But I won't feel blue like I always do

'Cause somewhere in the crowd there's you

Olivia giggled. It was one of her favorite songs, you had introduced it to her when she was too shy before one of her recitals. She had only memorized the chorus, of course. You were forever thankful for having that song engraved in your memory, because now the footage you had from said recital had Olivia showing all her moves looking right at you, basically all of the time.

"Oli, what do you think of going to the lobby? Maybe we could find some friends there." You suggested, which made Spencer's interest rise. Could it be a chance for him to finally address faces to the family he almost felt a part of?

For someone so bright, he truly didn't know if he was overstepping or being obsessive, it just made sense to him. Like aforementioned, he felt like it was a novel.

He heard little hands clapping excitedly and heard the next door opening and then closing right after. He used the time to think if he was behaving like the creeps he profiled for a living, but decided to give himself some credit by realizing he didn't mean to do no harm, he was just curious.

As time went by, the lobby soon became crowded with people and basically everyone had a flashlight on. It made Spencer laugh internally. He searched the area for a woman and a little kid, but no success. The room was so packed it almost felt suffocating and for a moment he felt ridiculous for considering searching a room for someone whose face he wasn't familiar with. What was he thinking? His mother always said that his job should stay out of his personal life and he had yet to learn that. So, he decided to go outside for a breath of fresh air.

What he didn't expect was to find a woman and a little girl sitting on the benches just outside the apartment complex. Their voices sounded exactly like the ones he had been noticing for some time now. He froze, unable to look away from them.

The girl had her mother's features. They were so scarily alike that it felt like he was watching the same person during different periods of her life, but simultaneously, as if he was on some sort of time travel.

He was ripped out of his daydreams when the little girl came running towards him, "Look, mommy! He has a letter! You send them to grandpa!"

Although very embarrassed by your daughter's sudden run, you jumped on your feet to catch up with her. You didn't know that man, so it only made sense to be very alert and to keep your child away from him. As you neared the two of them, you placed your hands on Oli's shoulders, who was standing in front of him, you took in his appearance. He was tall, a little lanky and had long-ish hair, cut just around his shoulders. He had dress pants and a shirt loosely buttoned up as well. His eyes were searching your face, as if he was scanning you as well. The poor lighting didn’t help either of you, but you two were almost touching with your eyes, if such a thing were possible, from how much you were looking, almost admiring each other.

Amid his thoughts from earlier, he didn't even realize he was still holding the letter he had written that afternoon.

"Hi," you greeted, a little awkwardly, "I'm sorry. She’s still learning about stranger danger. Or bothering people." You chuckled, nervously.

What the hell have you just said?

"Actually, stranger danger did the most harm to this country in terms of crimes like that. I remember them coming to my classroom. It was Officer Friendly with stranger danger coloring books. Taught a whole generation about a scary man in a trench coat, hiding behind a tree. Then we learned that strangers are only a fraction of the offenders out there." He rambled.

What the hell has he just said?

You knitted your eyebrows together, perceiving his comment as peculiar, to say the least. "Well, yeah."

"Sorry about that. I tend to ramble about some topics. I'm not a creep, I swear. I work with the FBI, I know it can be odd to start a conversation like that. Well, your daughter did," he chuckled, albeit tensely, "My name's Spencer. Spencer Reid. I live in this building. Third floor."

You laughed a little over his rambling, relief flooding your body once you realized that he was just a regular guy. A regular guy that worked for the FBI. You told him your name and Olivia's as he offered you a friendly handshake, "Me and Olivia live there, too."

"MOMMY!" Olivia shouted, sounding exasperated and thrilled at the same time. "He is the ghost neighbor!"

"Ghost neighbor?" He asked, shocked and a little humored.

You laughed at your daughter and the confusion adorning his beautiful features. "Oli, don't scream. We already talked about it," you addressed your daughter, firmly but gently. Spencer was in awe. "It's just an inside joke between the kids. You're almost never home and every once in a while they hear some sounds coming from your apartment. They say a ghost lives there. They even put up some decorations on your front door on Halloween, but I decided to remove it in case it bothered you."

Olivia laughed like someone had spilled a funny secret and Spencer quickly joined her. You chuckled, even though you were more puzzled than anything by the fact that your daughter had approached, so confidently, a stranger. It made you both terrified and happy. Terrified because he could be a weirdo. Happy because she was able to come out of her shell. Even happier to see her coming out of her shell with a nice stranger.

"It’s alright. I wouldn’t have minded. I love Halloween.” He said, addressing you. You could tell then that, at least, he wasn’t someone bitter. “Sorry to disappoint, Miss Olivia. It's just me moving some chairs every now and then. But I won't tell if you won't."

"I won't!" She squealed, and Spencer smiled. You couldn't draw your eyes away from their exchange. Olivia balled her small fists on your skirt, pulling you out of your reverie, so you crouched down at her height. She whispered something in your ear. Spencer watched, curiously, as you nodded at her.

"She said you need a pinky promise." You told him once you were standing again. Spencer gladly crouched and stuck out his pinky towards Olivia, who intertwined her own with his.

"Now we can't tell anybody." He said, with a genuine smile on her face.

"Mommy, you hafta promise it too." Olivia said, grabbing your hand and pulling your pinky toward Spencer's hand, linking them together. You felt the heat rising to your face.

The power came back. Suddenly, your pinky was linked to a very handsome man who you had just met because of your one-of-a-kind daughter. It made you nervous, because the light highlighting his beautiful features in all the right places made you feel like a deer caught in the headlights. By looking at him alone, you thought of words related to the light four times. As he looked back at you with a gorgeous smile on his face, you finally understood why people associate light with feelings.

[lemonlover1110]

hi 💓 I really love your blog so much and your writing is so incredible! I saw that your requests were open and I was wondering if you wanted to write something about moments when heianera!sukuna shows he loves reader? like maybe he collects little desserts or something like that? 💕💕

Pairing: Sukuna x f!Reader

Warnings: Fluff

*Thank you so much, dear❤️ I hope you enjoy

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

Sukuna isn’t affectionate whatsoever. He isn’t the type to hug or kiss you– And certainly not the type to tell you he loves you. 

But you know he does.

He loves you more than anything else, and you’re quite sure that you’re the only person he loves. Actions speak louder than words, and every single one of his deeds just scream how much he loves you.

“What is this? Chocolate?” You ask one day as you’re brought a tray by the servants. A special treat since they got their hands on cacao beans, and they couldn’t desist from making the sweet treat.

The way your face lit up as you took the first bite changed something in Sukuna. It satisfied him in a manner that made him want to get you chocolates every day. Being fulfilled because of someone else’s joy is greater than love, he’s sure of that.

It’s not an easy feat, but he makes sure that after dinner you’re brought a tray of chocolates. A treat that he tried as well, but he spit it out within seconds. A whole tray just for you to feast on every night.

Sukuna cancels anything and everything just to watch you take that first bite. The little moan that leaves your lips as you taste it just feeds something in his wicked soul. You become more lively after you eat the first treat. Happier.

He fights it off but a smile almost comes to his lips as he watches you taste it. He becomes happy because you’re happy.

He’s sitting besides you, just watching you eat them as if you were a ferocious animal. As if you were him. 

“Here, taste it. You’ll love it.” You bring the treat up to his lips. Your face is covered by it, and you’re chewing like a hungry woman. You’re salacious for more. Though you eat them often, your appetite for it is never satisfied. Sukuna doesn’t open his mouth even though you’re pressing the chocolate against his lips, making you say, “C’mon! It’s so good.”

He complies, and you practically shove it in his mouth. Sukuna tries to not spit them out, just to make you happy. He’ll eat the whole tray if you want, even if he’ll end up throwing up after. But thankfully by the way you eat, he knows that he won’t have to. 

That’s love for him.

[bougiebutchbinch]

AOB AU where Logan, much like real wolverines, has multiple life mates, and so far, he has a little harem of Omega Wade who he raises "kits" with, Omega Morph, and Beta Kurt (who dosn't even need bred he just used to help Logan out with his ruts and they never broke up once Logan found his omegas)

And he alternates them, scheduling each of their dick appointments weeks in advance of their heats. Sometimes, Morph can trick their heat by morphing into an alpha, but if their alpha is around, they can't mea while Kurt dosn't have heats and is just kinda here for some extra fun and the cuddle piles that accure during Logan's Ruts, when they all hunker down in the bedroom and kurt is sent to teleport supplies in.

For the most part, it's just Logan taking turns pounding them, letting the others watch and growling at them if they get too close. Their hierarchy is pretty basic on who gets mounted first. It goes Wade, Kev, and then Kurt.

Wade has to go first to get all of Logans feralness out and because if not, Wade gets too jealous and growls at kevin while theyre being bred, which ultimately leads to Logan having to snarl at him to behave and be patient.

Wade is all up for sharing but he wants to be the dominant bitch. This isn't really an issue for Kev since they have a lot of anxiety and insecurity, being in heat makes it way worse.

It's not that Wade has an issue sharing his Alpha its just that he's the 'alpha' omega and by the time hes fucked out and filled, if anything he tries to nuzzle them all. Once in a good while Logan will allow Kurt to mount kev while hes dealing with wades bratty ass, having to constantly reclaim him because of how quickly his marking heals.

By the end of it Logan snuggles them all in the huge 'den' he made out of smelly clothes and the bloody matress. It's a purr fest from there on out, passing a cigar around and chugging water.

It makes Logan to happy to see his omegas (and beta) satisfied and getting along.

The kits in question being foster kittens and puppies from the shelter, Or Bamfs if they're isn't a healthy litter old enough for raising.

Logan will keep them in the den, carrying them around and growling if wade tries to play too rough with them, sometimes dragging wade to his "kits" and forcing him to stay there while he hunts for him COUGH makes dinner COUGH.

Puppins is excited either way, being gentle with them but sometimes getting jealous if her papa doesn't give her equal attention.

Once the litter is old enough to be adopted out, Wade has to give him the "They're big enough to go without us now" talk and watch as their "kits" go to different families.

By then, when all the "kits" get adopted, it throws Logan into another rut. Because good wolverine dads usually always have at least one litter to look after.

In between litters, his other kits being "too old" dosn't stop him from trying to put gabby laura and Puppins in a nest too when they visit.

"Dad stop you're being weird."

"I just want to make sure you're safe."

"You're being drimatic!"

"You need to rest >:("

"Im an adult now I don't need to-"

"Get in the fucking blankets!"

"Litsen to your father pumpkin or else he's just gonna be pouty all night about it." Wade chimes in with a sigh.

She rolls her eyes, sitting in the stupid blanket pile, and Logan is the happiest thing on earth, cuddling all his babies and slicing anyone who comes near them.

Logan and his kits, even if they're already 24>>>>>>

HOLLERS

HOLY SHIT YOU CANNOT DO THIS TO MEEEEEE I just scraped together the energy to crawl outta bed and make food...... now i gotta brace myself on the kitchen counter like I'm having a medical event lol

ThIS GOT ME GOOD!!!! FERAL DAD WOLVIE MY BELOVED... TOP BITCH WADE (at least, he thinks he is)......

Also love the idea that Wade Goes First because he GAGS for Logan getting violent with him... so, when Logan's in full Feral Horny Stabby mode, he can bite Wade and fold him in half in ways that would genuinely HURT anyone else - even Kurt's flexible ass! - and Wade is just drooling and moaning and egging him on... Once Logan's fucked the snarling Alpha-rage out of his system, he can move into fluffy softe mode with his other partners..... and with Wade, ofc! He gets SOOOOO snuggly and warm.... like he's still growly and claiming whenever they wiggle, but he's full of purrs........

GOD I LOVE THIS SILLY LITTLE FAMILY

[shutupineedtothink]

AAA final thoughts + praise 🙌🏼

Ok now that I’ve had a few days to sit with the finale and let go of my preconceived ideas of what it should be, yeah it really was brilliant. I still don’t Iove ghost Agatha, but I get it. And now I’m really pulling for Wanda to come back so that she can bring Agatha back (this happens in the comics apparently) and we can do a MCU witch movie. Sign Jac Schaeffer IMMEDIATELY, Feige. Lock her down, we all want more of this shit.

As to where the show ranks overall in the MCU, I feel like at this point it has to be #1. Even above WandaVision, and certainly above Loki, as much as I love both of them. This show just does… more. Like I can’t believe how much they packed into these 9 episodes. This is what… a true six hander? Six fully defined characters with fully developed arcs and satisfying journeys? With the possible exception of Agatha and Billy’s journey not being over yet, which doesn’t take away from their arcs and development along the show. (Again, had to let go of my own theories there.) WandaVision at most had 3… Wanda, Vision, and Monica, and I don’t feel like Vision had much of an arc tbh.

And then all the little witchy horror movie references throughout, the incredible seeding of the Billy’s Road reveal, building up and breaking down the coven, Agatha’s incredible complexity as a character and not being able to neatly put her in any category, hero, villain, anti-hero, whatever. You really can’t pin her down and I don’t think I’ve seen that in the MCU ever. I guess the last character like that was sort of Loki, but he had more of a true redemption arc. Agatha just… exists in the gray at all times. You just never know what she’s gonna do. And it’s amazing.

Then there’s the Ballad and truly weaving that throughout the whole show in such a way that it’s instrumental (pun intended) to the plot… who does that? Plus the amazing score that feels just as present throughout. The only comp I can kind of make is Clara’s theme in DW, but the Ballad is way more intentional throughout.

I can’t possibly go into it all but the sheer amount of setup and pay off is incredible. And yet we leave with more mysteries to solve and more questions to ask, which is also incredible!

Not to mention the production design, the practical effects, costumes, makeup — every visual was stunning.

And I’m not even going to get into AgathaRio (and Nicky) and all the tragic complexity there. I get wanting a happy ending but… also what ever made you think this would be as simple as a happy ending? They are a. Capital S. STORY. They’re practically mythological. Who cares about happily ever after when you can have Epic, Fated, Complex Romance that literally transcends this Earth. Like what more do you want?? That is the top echelon of epic romance. Disconnect the “happy ever after” = “good romance” link in your brain, you know? Judge by complexity and emotionality and dynamic range rather than something as simple and boring as do they end up together or not. They’re so wildly interesting and I’m so glad we could get more of them in the future. (Ok I did get into it oops)

And the humor?? I don’t think I even need to say anything. But what comedic excellence from everyone across the board, with Kathryn Hahn leading the charge of course. And to balance that with the drama without undercutting either of them is not easy, but they all did it flawlessly.

I could go on and on but I just hope this show, and Jac, and Kathryn, and everyone involved gets their flowers for this work of art. There’s just so much love and care and intentionality here. It really feels like a standout not just in the MCU but in contemporary TV in general. Easily my top show of 2024, it’s not even a contest. ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

[pocket-solas]

I love your blog and I hope this doesn’t come across rude but I feel like you and a lot of people are overlooking the glaring issues this game has. The writing is abysmal and they are clearly trying to pander the series towards a new audience. Whatever lore they had built up has not been addressed or has been trickled down into crumbs. That ending with Solas and the inquisitor was ridiculously bad and I don’t think we should praise them for giving us fans crumbs when they had built up this idea of a solavellan reunion and us getting a satisfying resolution. Ghil Dirthalen, a massive creator has openly been shitting on people in a recent tweet because we are ‘upset’ and put it down to people getting too invested into their headcanons. No, it is because we have been waiting for SO long, (some people who have been OG fans since Origins) and their beloved series gets turned into this? I’m tired of seeing empty praise and people not calling out Bioware’s shortcomings. This is the worst dragon age game we have ever gotten and at this point, I hope the IP dies.

Hey, normally I wouldn't post this to my blog cause I'm trying to stay positive but I do agree with everything you've said!

I don't think anything I've seen was "well-written," and I do think people have a right to be disappointed.

But hear me out now, if you will. I am simply thrilled we got a Solavellan resolution. A happy one. One where they don't both die, because honestly fam, that's what I was expecting.

To be frank, I don't care about the game as a whole. It will probably be quite a while before I play it, if I even do. I was solely invested in what happens to Solas and Lavellan.

Bestie, we got a kiss. A kiss. I can't even complain because a year ago I never thought there'd be anything ever again aside from fanwork for those two, my OTP since I was 18.

Am I peeved about some things I've seen, like the lore being messed up, etc, yes. But again, my expectations were rock bottom, so maybe I'm feeling it a bit less.

I'm sorry so many people are so upset, and I'm trying to spread positivity where I can for those who felt let down ❤️🫂

I know how much these stories have meant to people for literal decades. I know how much Solavellan means to so many people. And now, because of the ending we were given, it opens up a whole world where we can explore what happens next for those two.

And as an aside, I know there are people who are LOVING the game and are thrilled with the Solavellan ending (myself included) and the last thing I want to do is take that joy away from them.

[yinemw]

𝐤𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐡 𝐝𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐫

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐱𝐭: letting bf Kaveh do your hair like he always does his with his hairpins and braids 🥰 (gender neutral reader)

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: none, just fluff

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫: Kaveh from Genshin Impact

𝐦.𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

“Darling, I can feel you staring, am I really that attractive?” If you looked any closer you would see hearts in his eyes as he leaned his chin on his hand and watched you dreamily.

“I’m looking at your hair”

If you looked even closer, you could also see those hearts shattering. He pouted his lips, mumbling something to himself as he turned away. Needing your attention as a break from the sketches he had been working on the whole day.

“Kaveh, could you style my hair like you do with yours and use your hairpins?”

His eyes light up, throwing the pen on the desk and turning the entire chair to only face you. Already committed and ready. “I thought you’d never ask”

Sitting behind you on the bed, he wasted no time to run his fingers through the strands of your hair first. Taking in a breath of the shampoo you use (which he secretly used as well).

He found his hairbrush and started to slowly brush through your hair gently, making sure you were in no pain. Fingers grazing your neck every once in a while, shivers run down your back. Goosebumps evident on your shoulders, Kaveh leans closer, lips inches away from touching the spot between your neck and shoulder. So close, yet he pulled away. He could save his kisses for when your hair was up and out of the way.

The room was quite, the sound of his soft breathing and the brush stroking through your hair filling the small space. It was comforting nonetheless, both of you taking a break from a stressful day and spending it together in silence.

Once he was satisfied with the brushing, your hair silky smooth to the touch, he started to braid a small portion on the left side of your head, just like his. The movement of his fingers making you sleepy, your head slowly starting to fall backwards against his chest.

“Stay with me a little longer” he chuckled, giving into temptation and leaving a small peck to your shoulder. “I’ll be done soon”

Placing the hair pins in as finishing touches, he was finally done. “Perfect” he mumbled, smile on his lips as he lead you to a mirror. Standing proudly behind you and looking at his masterpiece. “Goodness I almost forgot!”

“Hmm?” You hum sleepily, being turned around by your shoulders all of a sudden. He took the feather from his hair and placed it into yours instead. Tilting it back and forth a few times before he was satisfied. “Now it’s perfect”

You smile, both from seeing him so happy and the fact his own hair was a mess now. Unbrushed, braid half undone and his hair lose due to the missing support of the hairpins that were placed neatly in your hair. “You did a great job Kaveh” you giggle, turning back to the mirror to really look at what he had done. “Maybe you should do my hair everyday”

“I’d love to” from the way he said it, it truly felt like he meant it whole heartedly. If anything ever involved you, he’d do it.

“I think we need more hairpins if we do though” you run your fingers through his tangled hair. If it was anyone else who saw him in this state, messy hair, dark circles under his eyes and wrinkled clothes, he’d be embarrassed. Deny it to his grave that he’d ever let himself get to this state. But it wasn’t anyone else. It was you.

Instead of being embarrassed, he laughed alongside you. Trying to fix his hair but somehow making it worse.

“At least let me brush it”

He agreed, handing you the brush and sitting back in the bed. The roles reversed this time as you brush carefully through the locks of blonde hairs. It wasn’t often he had his hair lose, most times he slept with his hairpins still in and fixed it in the mornings. This made you realize just how long his hair actually is.

“Kaveh, have you been using my shampoo?”

Silence. No answer from the man sitting in front of you. His head hung low as a small snore left his lips. “Kaveh, darling, did you fall asleep?” Trying not to let out a laugh, you stand up and place the hairbrush back on the nightstand. Gently pushing Kaveh to lay down on his back. “What am I gonna do with you, hmm? Overworking yourself all the time, yet still finding time for me?” The words held no annoyance behind them, only love and care for the tired architect.

Laying down beside him, your hands naturally find their way to hold around Kaveh, pulling him to your chest.

“I forgo…”

“Forgot what Kaveh?”

“To kiss your shoulder…was supposed to be all romantic”

With a soft laugh, you pull him even closer and close your eyes. “We have all the time in the world my love. Now go to sleep” and that he did.

𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝑏𝑦: ★

[hoe-for-daddywise]

Art the clown/reader Let me in

⚠️Warning: this fiction contains strong depictions of self harm, blood, drug abuse and graphic details of death. Slight NSFW but not anything major. 18+ Proof read maybe once ⚠️

Word count: 2512

Summary: one bad trip. A fic in which Art shows up during your high and you debate whether he’s real or not.

Just another bad trip, that’s all this was as mismatching colours swirled around your room from blue to green to yellow in a rhythmic dance, pulsating like a kaleidoscope.

So, when the air shifted and your bedroom door swung open, you barely noticed or you were too euphoric perhaps to care. Through the haze of your vision, however, a face emerged, a bloodied clown with black and white face paint and a black dot at the tip of his nose. He smiled, his teeth dirtied and yellow and you smiled back in fascination. “This is new.” You slurred. “I never see faces.”

The clown cocked his head slightly to the side and his smile faded somewhat before his brows raised into a surprised glare, his eyes setting on the new cuts on your arms and then to the blade next to you. He pointed at the blade, then to you, as if to ask if you’d done it to yourself, he never said a word as he sat face to face with you.

“Yes.” You laughed to which he clapped, proud of the harm you’d inflicted. There was something unsettling yet oddly captivating about the clown you believed your brain had conjured, the colours pirouetting around him like they were drawn to him, you studied his every move as he studied yours. He picked up the pill bottle next to you, examined the contents and shook his head as if disappointed.

The clown reached his bloody gloved hand toward the blade that was slick with your blood, picking it up to observe it. With a quick exaggerated motion, his fingers danced over the metal before popping it into his mouth and sucking every last drop of the liquid. A small part of you recoiled in horror, while the rest of you felt a thrill at the sight, excited at the way his eyes rolled back as he enjoyed the taste of you. A small shaky breath left your cracked lips as a heat rose within. He pulled the sharp metal out from between his lips and smirked at you, eager fingers shoving the blade back into your hand, willing you to go again. Complying, you placed the blade to your arm, watching how his nose flared and his lips parted while you cut into your flesh, he practically drooled at the sight of fresh blood mingling with dried blood. You groaned, happy to be pleasing him as you slashed three more times. You held your arm out to him, delighted with your work. The clown silently laughed and gripped your arm tight, pulling it to his black lips, his tongue swirling around the fresh wounds, lapping up every trickle. A small moan left you, earning a startled glance from the clown, his lips shaped in an ‘o’ which quickly turned into an animalistic smile as he pulled away, satisfied, the colours around him fluctuating. You were far too lucid to pay mind to the impossibility of the dream soaked reality you had fabricated to truly appreciate your situation, and the fact that, this clown, however improbable he may seem, clearly cannot be a hallucination.

“Can you see them?” You suddenly ask, mesmerised at the way the clown amplified your surroundings.

The clown tilted his head, unsure as to what you meant.

“The colours, the faces.” You continue.

Art glanced around your room for a second and then shook his head.

“That’s a shame. They’re so pretty.” You giggled. “You’re pretty.” You blush at your sudden admittance as the clown batts his eyelashes and smirks at you, a hand waving you off.

His eyes burnt into yours and his pupils seemed to swirl in your intoxicated state.

He was beautiful, this man was beautiful, even as the colours around you faded to grey to black to white, your trip coming to an end. “I wonder if I’ll see you again next time.” You ponder, leaning closer to his face, soaking in every detail before he inevitably disappeared…but he never did and the usual pain that formed in the centre of your head began to build letting you know that your high was over. That was when a slight panic set in and your breathing became harsh.

“How are you still here?”

The clown silently laughed, pointing his finger at you in mockery.

“Who are you?”

The clown showed his teeth in a snarl as you leaned in even closer, a tentative finger reaching up to touch him on the shoulder. You half expected your hand to go through him like a hologram but as it connected with the padded feeling of a body, you laughed, unsure of what to do next as his hand reached up to your head and patted it.

“What do you want?” You blinked rapidly, the clown simply wagged his index finger side to side as he stood. Shaking legs from your high failed to get you to stand and your body all but began to crash to the floor before the monochrome man grabbed you and steadied you, throwing you down onto your bed. You went to stand again but the clown held a hand out to tell you to stay put.

He crouched down and grabbed your pills, shaking the contents dramatically with a plotting smile.

“What are you doing?” You whisper. “They’re mine.”

The clowns focus unwavering as he disappears out of your room and out of your eye sight. Standing, your clumsy feet tripped over themselves, following him towards the bathroom where he stood over the toilet. Your heart sank as he unscrewed the cap and tipped the bottle upside down, the pills spilling out like small white stones, clattering against the porcelain bowl.

“No!” You scream, rushing forward and into his body. “Stop!” But it was too late, he tossed the empty bottle to the floor and, in a swift motion, pushed the lever down. The sound of rushing water echoed in the small bathroom, your lifeline swirling away.

“Why did you do that? I need them…You-you don’t understand.” Tears well in your eyes as your voice croaked, turning to face the clown who was wiping his hands together as if to say he was finished with his work.

Panic became fear and fear became anger, a storm brewing inside as you lifted your hands and began hitting the clown on the chest, each strike fuelled by the frustration of loosing the one thing you need to survive. “You don’t know what it’s like!”

The clown stood there, his face monotone as he allowed you to project your emotions to him, not flinching once as you continued to whack your palms onto him. You wished he’d fight back, offer some sort of punishment, instead, he held your gaze, curious to see what you would do next, but nothing could have prepared him for the swell of pure sorrow that crashed down on you like a tidal wave as you delivered your last blow to him. Like a flood gate had opened, tears spilled down your face, your makeup melting away as water lines stained your cheeks and a harrowing sound that was alien to you came from deep within your throat. The clown watched as you fell to your knees and gripped onto his satin suit, deflated and utterly broken.

He titled his head and a silent sigh fell from him whilst he crouched down next to you, gripping your face harsh to look at him in the eyes. He offered a small smile, kinder somehow than the ones he’d given you previously, and his dark eyes glistened with an understanding that transcended words, a mute acknowledgment of the pain you were enduring.

Suffice to say, you were still none the wiser as to who this man was, but one thing was clear to you, he didn’t want you taking those drugs any more. “Why?” Your voice trembled as you searched his gaze, desperate for an answer. “You don’t know me, why do you care?”

The grip on your face loosened and his thumb traced the contours of your cheeks, following your tears and wiping them away.

“Who even are you?”

The clown pointed his finger in the air as if he had an idea then his legs took him to your mirror. He took a deep breath, puffing air against the glass, creating a thin layer of condensation that began to cloud on the reflective surface. Reaching his finger to the mirror, he began tracing letters, each stroke slow and careful. Once finished, he stepped back, arms presenting his work with an exaggerated flourish.

“Art?” You recite.

Art nods vigorously, a large smile stretching across his face as he clapped.

“I like it, it suits you.”

He then points at you, as if wanting you know your name.

“Me? I’m y/n.” You blush as he theatrically sits back next to you on the tiled floor and shakes your hand.

“But, Art, you still haven’t told me why you chucked my pills.”

Art rolls his eyes as if frustrated that you won’t let the subject go before pointing at the empty bottle on the floor and holding his hands in a cross shape and then sticking his tongue out and pointing his finger to his mouth. He shakes his hand like he disproves of you taking the pills.

“But what do I do without them now?”

The clown put a hand on your shoulder and pulled you closer to him, your foreheads just touching, his other hand points at himself and then to you.

“What about us?” A million thoughts race through your head, confusion taking over.

He then points at himself again and then extends his palm and pushes it down in the air.

“You’ll stay?”

Art moves his head back and nods at this, seeming excited, hoping you’ll take up on his offer.

“This is crazy.” You laugh. “I mean, thank you but I don’t know you. You let yourself into my apartment for gods sake.”

Art is insistent, however, pointing at you and him again over and over and then placing his hands together as if pleading you. You knew this was mad, and if better judgement had been on your side you would have said no, but, still hazy from you high you said what you never thought you would have, “okay then.”

The clown jumps up to his feet and practically dances around the bathroom. You giggle at this, watching the man you’ve just met who just somehow became your new life line.

“Well, I’ll have to talk to Eliza about it. She’s my room mate. Did you see her on your way in?” You ask.

Art suddenly stops in his tracks and his demeanour shifts, his eyes twinkling with mischief. He lifts his hands to the side near his head and offers a sheepish smile as if to say, ‘oops’.

“What did you do?”

The clown extends his arm out towards your still sitting form, head nodding to his hand for you to take it, which you gladly accept, electricity sparks within you from the contact causing you to blush. Slowly, he pulls you to your feet, making sure you were steady enough to walk, fingers gripping your hips as you swayed lightly. When he was sure you wouldn’t fall, he gently covered your eyes with his hands and walked behind you, pushing you along, a playful gesture that sent a thrill down your spine. You hadn’t realised how tall he was until now, and your body practically pressed against his had you grinning, you could feel the way his heart was beating rapidly against his chest, mirroring your excitement.

Each step you took felt like a dance, swaying in time with Art with his sporadic energy, the unspoken promise of something extraordinary ahead. As you neared your destination, your footsteps stopped and Art paused for a moment, allowing the tension to swell like the crescendo of a symphony. He leaned closer, his lips practically brushing your ear. Your breathing became heavy and your legs wobbled from anticipation all while his hands cascaded down from your eyes and slid down your arms lightly, causing a slight hiss from you as he grazed your new cuts. The sudden feeling of loss of contact from him made you groan as he stepped away from you, your eyes still shut but soon flying open when he tapped your shoulder.

The sight that greeted you took your breath away - a scene that was both shocking and surreal was laid before your eyes and there, Art, the artist, proudly presented his work with a display of his hands and a smile, eyes wide. He stepped aside slightly, allowing you to get a full view of your slaughtered room mate, Eliza, a grotesque tableau of colour and chaos painted your living room. Her insides had been filleted and her once green eyes taken from her skull; intestines and liver spread out for all to see. The only recognisable feature describable was that of her blonde hair which helpless gripped to her torn scalp.

Art twirled on the spot, pointed at the scene and then to himself, sweeping his arms wide as if to proclaim, ‘isn’t it magnificent?’, inviting you to join his twisted revelry.

A laugh left you, a deep guttural laugh that shocked the clown as much as it did you. Why did you not scream? Or cry? Or run in terror? No tears, nothing. Just a laugh that seemed to continue for ages, even as the clown silently laughed and pointed at your dead room mate. The absurdity of the moment settled over you as you found yourself mixed in the magic of his madness. He watched you, clapping now as you clapped with him. Words never came to you, they don’t need to, a wordless array of astonishment was all you could offer as you waltzed over to him and let your lips touch his.

[rodolfoparras]

I've been staying quiet about how much I love cheating tropes and I'm so happy to see someone talk about. I just like the idea of a bit of a taboo sex ok? And I have so many scenarios I love and either want to write about or did write about.

Having a big strong "straight" (but not really) dude ride you while he's on the phone with his girlfriend/wife? Delicious. Or even better honestly, eating him out while poor little thing is trying his best to stay quiet. Him whining and crying and breathing heavily all while he's trying to sound normal...

Teasing him and playfully degrading him while fucking him, telling him you'll breed him and knock him up and how will be explain *that* to his wife? Coming over and spending time with him, acting like you're just close friends or coworkers while having dinner with him and his wife. And he is squirming the entire time because he's full of your cum and still sore sensitive-

But also since I'm such a switch and can't help thinking of the scenario that's other way around- sleeping with boyfriend's/husband's dad and/or brother and letting him know just how much better they are at keeping me satisfied 🤭 Him calling and me being all like "Sorry babe, your dad's keeping me busy teehee"

Or orrrrr- him being part of a sports team and being out of commission for whatever reason and one day he gets a video and it's just me having fun with his coach and teammates 👀

ANYWAYS- let's pretend like I don't love this trope as much as I do

-🔮

WHEN WRE WE GOING TO SEE THESE PIECES POSTED PLEASE I NEED THEM ALL

or of course the insanity that is your sister husbands pining after you, her younger brother

He’s liked ypu ever since he saw you at a club or some caffe but he never managed to get your number and the very next day he met your sister and things started snowball into the wrong direction til he got stuck in a. Commited relationship with her so now the sweet thing jerks off to whatever picture you send to your sister because you just want to update her on your life and he goes absolutely insane when you come to visit, hogging your personal space and pretending this is what it means being close with your brother in law, or even sneaking downstairs after his wife has fallen asleep just to hang out with you because he knows you’re sleeping on the couch for the night probably in only your boxers and hopefully no shirt, who will blatantly check you out while you watch some movie playing on the tv, or how he will be a sick little pervert and listen in when you’re jerking off, getting himself off at the same time, or going tense when you mention meeting some guy and now he’s interrogating you like crazy because who is he why haven’t you mentioned him before and you cant understand why he’s so obsessed with the random dude who will do anything to prevent you from going on the date but of course you’ll end up going anyway so he’ll wait up for you maybe with a few drinks in your system and you’re confused as ever wondering why he up, but you don’t get to think much more before he smashes your lips together, mutters the word slut between each kiss because how dare you see somebody who isn’t him

[teethgnashing]

you will spend every day fighting to like yourself fighting to be happy fighting to want to live and then you will look in the mirror and realize that after everything you still absolutely despise yourself and then what is even the fucking point

[a-s-levynn]

"A sacred guardian" A Series of Small Offerings - IV/1 - day33

[dykedvonte]

Honestly a sorry from Curly would mean nothing to Anya.

I’m not saying she wouldn’t want to hear it, it’s a hollow vindication. She told him and he couldn’t hear her. He saw it and he couldn’t understand it. They both experienced it and he should apologize that it took that for him to get it. She already knows he’s sorry but what’s the point if neither of them can do anything about it? It’s earnest but at the same time what she wants an apology for is what Curlu can’t apologize for.

He can’t be sorry for what happened to her even if he is. Even if he carries that guilt with him until the day he dies it’s not all his to bare. The most heinous parts aren’t his weight even if he tries to balance it. A part of her bitterness is the fact he can’t be sorry for it all. She can’t just direct it all towards him even if she wants to. She was failed in so many ways by all of them. It hurts with him the most cause he had the power but they all did nothing in the grand scheme of things.

The one person who should apologize would never and could never, it’s not something you can be sorry for. She wants an apology, she needs one but what would it fix?

[worshipme]

after he's fed her, tyler goes back to working on his plate. "you masochist." he jokes with a shake of his head. tyler's quick to finish the rest of his plate and he's left with a full tummy completely satisfied. "so, so good." he repeats himself while he dabs away at his mouth with the napkin.

tyler declines the refill for the boba and he leans back in his chair. with his hand on his stomach, he pats it gently while he basks in the glorious feeling of having a full stomach and a light heart. there's nothing that could really top this moment. at least, nothing that's happened yet could really top it.

"i mean, if you really need me to then i will. just hop on my back, you know. big strong man is here to carry you out." he says as he sits back up in his seat. then, she's askign the question from earlier and suddenly, tyler feels cold.

he's nervous. he feels shy meeting her gaze, but he forces himself to hold it anyway. his smile has grown sheepish, and suddenly, tyler's hands are clammy. "i uh..." he begins and he hears his heart beating loudly in his ears.

this was it. it was now or never. but the longer he holds yaz's gaze, the more he's reminded of why his attraction to her had started in the first place. here tyler was, able to wear his heart out on his sleeve without the fear of rejection or judgement. and if it came down to it, if she didn't feel the same then they'd get through it. he has that much faith in the friendship they've built.

"i really, really like spending time with you yaz. and i really like... you know... learning about you. getting to learn all the things that have troubled you in the past... things that still trouble you today. i like that... you've become a safe space for me in a way. where i can be myself. i really hope that you think the same of me. and i..." get on with it, tyler. "i'm happy i could make you laugh and smile today. it's my favorite thing to do, i've come to realize. like how i've realized that lately i've..."

he takes a deep breath. "i like you, yaz, and i'd really like for the next time that we do something like this to be a date. not a hangout between two friends but a date... if you want, of course. no pressure or anything."

who: tyler && yaz ! [ @itsyazmin ]

where: nyc

there were times when tyler’s felt like the entire world was against him and today certainly felt like one of those days. he had woken up later than he normally would on a sunday because he had trouble sleeping the night before. that caused him to miss out on breakfast just so that he could make it to mass on time (there was nothing he hated more than arriving late to mass and having everyone take a peek at who had entered in late because the door was squeaky and loud). but the most terrifying fact of all: he was going to tell yaz today.

he stands in front of his mirror and adjusts the sleeves of his button-up before smoothing the fabric out. he knows the odds weren’t looking good for him. she was going on casual dates with others and had even called their friendship cordial. whatever he was going to say today would ruin that, but he’d rather see his feelings through than letting them fade into oblivion with the ‘what if’ lurking in the air. tyler runs his hands through his hair before going between taking his glasses off, putting them back on, taking them off again… before he finally settles on keeping them on. there wasn’t time for him to fuss about getting his contacts in, and frankly, he thinks the glasses are the selling point of his “sunday’s best” fit.

“okay socksock, remember what i said for later today.” he tells his cat who has been sitting at his feet patiently. “best behavior… i really like this girl. i don’t wanna ruin it if god blesses me today and answers my prayer.” he fixes his collar one last time, pats down the pockets of his slacks to make sure he’s got everything else he needs, and then lets out a sigh. tyler crouches down and scratches right under socksock’s chin. “wish me luck.” he whispers to her, leaving her with a peck on top of her head before he’s standing back up straight. tyler heads for the front door and makes sure to grab his leather jacket hanging up on the coat rack.. in case yaz gets cold.

then, tyler’s standing outside of yaz’s door and feels a chill even though he’s currently wearing the jacket. what if today was the last time they’d hang out like this because his feelings would ruin it? he gulps. but what if today was the start of something new? that thought is enough for him to ring the doorbell and wait patiently for her. whichever it was, that wouldn’t stop tyler from having fun today. they were going to get food, then have their furbabies meet… then he’d tell her. yeah… that’s the plan.

[frummpets]

congrats on 100 comics, @poorly-drawn-mdzs !!!! 🎉🎉🎉

ur comics bring me so much joy, and ur design takes on the mdzs cast are an absolute delight <33 the biggest heart eyes at how much care u put into each panel, and i am being so real rn when i say that every comic update makes my day :DD

[haaam-guuuurl]

Going into MisMag Season 2 knowing Evan and K probably have/will break up:

[aikuse]

hey uh just as a reminder if you’re polyamorous/non-monogamous and you don’t allow your very monogamous partner the chance to leave the relationship if they find it doesn’t work for them and they’re not okay with the relationship dynamic then you’re a shit human being