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#i'm liking it more than i otherwise would because of all the ways i was expecting it to disappoint me
impactedfates · 1 day
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Letters Unsent - Genshin + HSR Boys x GN! Reader
★ Summary: After their death, you find a letter. A letter he wrote. A letter he wrote for you, a letter he wished he could’ve given to you personally. A letter describing his feelings.
☆ Characters Included (Separate): Diluc, Wriothesley, Cyno, Argenti, Jing Yuan + Gepard
★ Genre/Trope: Angst + Hurt/No Comfort
☆ Warnings: Major Character Death (Not the Readers)
★ Extra: Angst is fun, angst is nice :)) // Might make another part with different characters if this does well // Not fully proof read // Motivation came back cuz of sad tunes/hj
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He said he'd be back, that it'll be quick. Despite your worry, you knew he was strong, so he'd be able to protect himself right? So you trusted him. Trusted him so much that when his co-worker showed up to your door with an expression you couldn't exactly read, you were confused. It was about him but...he was fine right? Then why were they telling you he had passed? The injuries he sustained was...to much for his body to handle? The healers couldn't help him? But...he said he'd be back...you were snapped out of your thoughts when they handed you a letter with your name on it. "I think he knew he wouldn't be able to make it...so...he wanted you to have this...even if he couldn't hear your answer"
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"To My Dearest,
If I'd ever be lucky to even call you that. Although this isn't ideally how I wanted to do this. I believe I can only get these things on paper, it's much too difficult otherwise. I was never good with words so I hope this alternative is alright for you.
Ever since the day I first laid eyes on you, I knew you were different. Not in a bad way. It took me way too long to figure out the reason for this was due to the fact I loved you.
I loved seeing your smile.
Hearing your laugh.
Loved the small talk we had that would end up with me taking you home. You made me feel something I didn't think I would ever feel, and I'm unsure if I even deserve it.
If I even deserve you.
Whether or not you feel the same way, I hope we can stick together as long as time allows us.
Sincerely
Diluc."
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"To Y/N
Hope you're doing well, life in Meropide is still as dull as ever. Well, unless you decide to visit, you really do light up the room when you come by don't you? Or maybe that's just for me.
Anyways, preferably I would be telling you this in person, but more work has piled up. That's also why our little tea sessions have to be put on hold for now. Don't worry, as soon as this all clears up and I investigate this one area, then we can go back to the usual.
I have this one blend I think you'd really like!
Anyways, enough beating around the bush.
I like you.
Like like you.
I love you.
So much.
I can't even begin to describe how much I love you, and even if I did I feel you'd be gagging at how cheesy I was being haha!
But really, I love you so much. I want to be with you, of course I understand if you don't feel the same. But Sigwinnie would have my head if I postponed this confession any longer.
I hope to see you again after my work.
Yours Truly
Wriothesley"
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"Hello Y/N
I never thought I'd be writing this kind of letter in my free time. Unfortunately for me, it seems as though fate likes making things harder for me and whenever I want to even try to talk to you about this, it's much more difficult than it was when I practised in the mirror.
Or...
Well...
Practised to Tighnari.
We can ignore that for now though as I'm still trying to put this all together in words.
I would let you borrow my TCG set, you can use it as you please and I'd even let you touch my limited edition cards.
If that's not making any sense then how about a joke?
How does a fruit confess?
They say "Olive You"
.
.
.
Get it, because an olive is a type of fruit, and olive sounds like "I love"
.
.
.
I love you"
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"My beloved rose
As much as I'd love to tell you all these words in person, my search for Idrila is still ongoing and I am unsure when I'll be able to see your beautiful face once again.
Ever since my eyes laid on your beauty, I thought I had found Idrila herself, but once I got to know you. Even if you weren't the Goddess, you could almost rival her.
The sparkle in your eyes.
The pretty little smile.
Your wonderful personality.
All those things you think are flaws? I love each and everyone of them. They are not flaws to me and it pains me knowing you think of yourself like that.
Once we meet again, I want to make sure you know how deserving you are of these words, how your 'flaws' aren't flaws and how much I love every bit of you.
Though I am aware I find many things worthy of praise. I want to let you know that you're different.
I don't just want to praise you, compliment you. I wish to love you, hold your hands and protect you with my life, no matter what it takes.
I love you so much, and if I could be so lucky to call you mine. Well, I think I'd be the happiest man alive.
I will return soon,
Signed
Argenti"
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"Morning, Afternoon or Night
I'm not too sure when the Cloud Knight will give this to you, or when I'll give this to them. Whatever the case, I won't beat around the bush too much.
I love you.
Nothing could compare the feeling in my heart when I see you.
The smile that will never fade as long as you're there by my side.
You are just amazing. In all my years of living, never would I have thought to have met someone as perfect as you.
Even Fu Xuan herself can see just how enamoured I am for you, although for her. She's been using it as an advantage to do work.
'If you finish now you can see them quicker'
'How would they feel knowing that you're not working?'
'Stop dozing off or they won't come to see you ever again!'
I must admit, they all do work. Even if in hindsight, not only would I still see you even with work uncomplete, I'll see you plenty of times and more to come but I don't think you care all too much about my sleep.
But I digress.
I hope this letter finds you well, take as much time as you need to consider my words and think about your own feelings.
I'll be waiting where I always am.
Jing Yuan"
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"Dear Y/N
Aeons this is embarrassing. But it would be even more embarrassing if Serval kept teasing me about this. I've been putting this off for so long, worried about how you'd react.
Your answer.
And if this would change your view on me...but you're not that kind of person. I know you're not. And after a bit of thinking, to save me from stumbling on my words. I decided to write a letter.
Serval should be the one giving this to you, so I hope she didn't say anything to you, I would nearly die of embarrassment if she did. Anyways!
So...I know it's probably not much hoping Serval wouldn't say something actually, knowing her, she gave it away with one sentence but...
I like you, a lot. More than you could ever know.
And I'm more than happy to talk to you about this in full once I'm back from my mission.
I can only pray you feel the same, but even if you don't.
I hope we stay friends.
Until next time,
Gepard"
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WOOO FINALLY GOT THIS DONE AFTER FOREVER.
Sorry if any characters are OOC, I tried my best with writing what I think they'd write in a confession letter, but I hope you enjoyed this anyways!
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WIBTA for not telling my partner about the other people I'm with when I plan to break up with him soon?
I (19) and my partner (18) have been together for a few years. We are polyamorous, to be clear. His only thing is that he wanted me to let him know & let him meet any new partners of mine. However, for the past year and a half or so, he's barely been around. I'm lucky if I get to talk to him for maybe an hour per month. So in the past 4-ish months since I have had other people ask me out, I haven't gotten to tell him much more than letting him meet 1 of them and telling him there was others I wanted him to meet. And even there, I'm not entirely sure he got the memo that these were my *partners* and not just people I was close to.
However, I know this relationship isn't going to last longer. From the beginning, my friends, other partners (not the same as the ones I am currently with, although my other current partners also hate him) , and family + therapist have said my relationship is not healthy or even abusive and want me to leave him. But I never had the strength to walk away. I loved, and still love him, too much. He's made it clear that if I left, he would be completely alone, and feel isolated. That's not something I want to do to him. On top of that, although he hasn't done it in several years now, at the beginning of our relationship he would regularly tell me how finding me saved him from suicide, how he would be gone without having found me. Treated me like I was his reason for surviving. I know he didn't mean that in a bad way, but it still stuck with me, and a part of me worries for what will happen if I leave. Plus, he knows everything about me. I don't believe he would, but I know if he wanted to he could easily make my life hell, and that makes it terrifying to try to walk away from him.
So I'm not sure when we actually will break up. Just that we will. He's talked about breaking up himself before, but when I suggested we just get it over with since clearly neither of us where happy in this relationship, he said it "wasn't time yet". So I'm just kind of waiting for the other shoe to drop.
Which makes me worry I'll be the asshole and cheating on him if I avoid telling him about my other relationships because I know ours is going to end. It feels heavy to tell him, between knowing we aren't going to keep being together, and the fact that he never reacts well to my other partners. Despite insisting he's okay with my polyamory and my relationships when I ask, he seems to almost always act aggressively when he meets my other partners. He acts rude towards them, and very possessive about me, often even siting how he was "here first". That's not something I want to put my partners through, especially not for someone I know is going to break up with me. Plus, a part of me feels guilty. Even though it's not going against boundaries, and I do really love all the people I'm with and do everything I can to make sure they all know that and feel loved and respected by me, it feels like I'm doing something wrong by being with so many people at once. It makes me feel ashamed to face my partner and go "hey so I'm with all these people too now! They all asked me out within the past 4-5 ish months yeah!" and like I'll have to find a way to justify it otherwise it'll look like I don't take our relationship seriously and am cheating.
WIBTA?
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k-s-morgan · 3 days
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I find it so intriguing and interesting that Ciel, even though he has a magnificent memory and good brains, stil at the age of only 10-13 can keep up with Sebastian, a centuries old being... in terms of plotting, arguing, creating
How must Sebastian feel about his Master? Does he not question how can he be so extraordinary and so young? Or does age at this point not matter to a demon?
Oh, Sebastian does question it! He's long since reached the stage of "My Master is the most impressive, smartest, most beautiful, most utterly breathtaking human being to ever walk the earth." At this point, he even overestimates some of Ciel's strengths because he's wearing the subjective glasses of infatuation.
With the age, I don't think Sebastian fully comprehends it because to him, the length of every human life is just a blink of an eye. He holds Ciel to the same standards he does adults, and he admires him as as a person in general, not just as a 12-13 year-old.
At the same time, I think it played its role. Ciel is inherently smart and I'd argue that he always had a penchant for manipulation, darkness, coldness, and inner strength in him. But meeting Sebastian when he did, as a child dealing with terrible trauma, then being practically raised surrounded by his influence and his standards - it left its mark. Sebastian was his closest confidant, the only relevant figure aware of what happened to him and what he's like. He was also a source of power and protection that Ciel desperately needed back then, so he clang to him with all he had. After quickly realizing that Sebastian, being a demon, despises weakness and can turn on him in an instant, Ciel did everything to become his match and to wrestle him for control. He pushed himself much harder than he would have otherwise to be someone worthy of demon's particular brand of respect.
It all had profound impacts on Ciel's personality. Children this young are still developing and absorbing the outside influence, and in Ciel's case, a demon was the one affecting him. I'm sure not every child brought up by a demon would have ended up like this, but Ciel already had all the seeds that could make him a perfect match for Sebastian - all Sebastian had to do was to water them.
I think a lot of Ciel's views on emotions and human value are tied to Sebastian's opinions. Without him, Ciel would still be smart and manipulative, but he probably wouldn't find emotional displays this abhorrent. He wouldn't consider them a weakness and he'd probably see humans more like humans, not like pieces in his game.
In some ways, Sebastian himself created his ideal partner. The foundation was always there, but who knows what it would have evolved into if it wasn't for his influence.
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sophsicle · 2 days
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Soph I love you but Taylor Swift does not “make herself the victim” there’s so much valid shit that has happened to her for us to feel that way about her, which most of her fans honestly don’t even see her as - granted there as some obnoxious ones but that goes for all fandoms.
Like for example of the experiences I was talking about.
- being sexually assaulted and then being called “greedy” for suing the guy.
- being painted as a “snake” because she didn’t react well to someone writing a misogynistic song about it. Which I feel like is a valid reaction as a woman in entertainment.
- being groomed at 19 by a 30+ something year old.
- getting called a snake worldwide for a narrative that 2 people - who were more famous than her at the time invented.
- being bodyshamed constantly when she had an eating disorder
Yes she’s privileged and has always been, coming from money and having fame, but she does not portray herself as the “victim” and the fact that people think she does just for standing up for herself makes me sad, not because of her but because being a woman myself it just paints the picture that women’s pain or experiences will always be brushed under the rug because we’re classified as “dramatic” and “we should take it with more grace” “be thankful about the good things” like??
I understand that you don’t like her but that assessment just seems wrong.
like i just. you realize you're proving my point right? like this - not just this message, but all of the ones i've gotten where people are waxing poetic about all of the struggles taylor swift has had and how she is absolutely a victim and how dare i suggest otherwise - is exactly what i'm talking about. you feel the need to jump down the throat of anyone who says anything remotely negative about her. this is the whole "victim" narrative, that she is vulnerable and must be protected and defended from all negativity at all times at all costs.
and like. that is on purpose. she has cultivated that narrative for this reason. so that publications are now afraid to post reviews of her albums with bylines because their journalists are getting death threats if they criticize her.
i am not suggesting that taylor swift has never had anything bad ever happen to her. that would be insane. i am trying to say that this culture that has been cultivated within her fanbase of defending and protecting her, is extreme and irrational. and when you don't buy into it, it makes a lot of the content surrounding taylor swift very hard to swallow.
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ddoxhan · 2 days
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stay by my side
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if there is no one next to you I’ll just be behind you, just stay by my side
word count : 0.9k words
genre : classic angst; giselle x gn! reader; days were never the same anymore but your feelings for aeri will always be unchanging for as long time exists
t/w : nothing :) this is just some good ol' angst
a/n : not much plot to it but ! it's the feels of not being able to forget someone and maybe, you're better off longing for them than try pressing down your feelings. anyone out there longing for their special someone, I just wanna say it's okay to feel that way :3 it may not be the healthiest choice, but allow yourself to long for that person until you feel it's time to actually let them go <3 enjoy !
things were just never the same anymore, it couldn't. I'd keep having dreams about you, about us. those sweet, spring memories we shared now embedded in my head like a broken record. those days when we spent our mornings showering each other with kisses, when we would take night walks in the park, when we talked about spending the rest of our lives together. those days, when we loved each other like there was no tomorrow. we did, but it just didn't last forever just like what we had wished under that shooting star.
I admit, that I still love you, the same or maybe even more than I did back then. I truly believed that we were meant to be, and no one can tell me otherwise as I've seen those eyes of yours bear the same endearment for me as I do for you. it sounds cheesy, but I am willing to be if it's you. however, as much as I want to let go of you, I don't think I'd ever come to terms with the fact that you did. we were so beautiful, don't you think so? it was as if the world revolved around us. I know we will never be able to go back to those days, to love each other again.
every night that came and went in the same repertoire. staring straight at the ceiling, reminiscing the times I still had you in my arms, crying myself to sleep, jolting awake from the same nightmare, hugging myself back to sleep. the pain was almost unbearable when it gets to the nightmare. it was my regrets for not doing my best for you, and the mistakes that I wished I hadn't made. I could never stand to see tears in your eyes, especially if it was because of me. on the day you left, you looked me in the eye, with tears threatening to roll down your crimson cheeks. that moment broke my heart to pieces, noticing the burning sensation of the wind against my skin.
it seems I have already lost you, with no chance to turn back time.
when I'm sober, everything I did numbed me to the core. when I wake up to your side of the bed empty, seeing that the once lively space all dull with silence, the fridge slowly emptying, leaving nothing but water and some alcohol. it's like I stopped functioning properly when you're not with me. the flowers that you loved so much don't look as lively, the warm breeze that greeted us daily slowly getting chilly, the stars that we spent hours looking at don't sparkle as much. you brought so much color to my world, and it returned back to being monochromatic, like those times before I met you.
you brought so much joy to my life, and I have never felt so grateful for being alive. it was the first time I felt so euphoric, fortunate to see that very smile of yours when you look at me with such affection. that smile was for me, because of me, only me. you made me feel like the luckiest person on earth to love someone as wonderful as you are. I can only hope you felt the same way as I did.
all the things in my life took a turn, not a good one at that, after you left. you took a part of me with you when you told me that things weren't working out. what did that mean? was I not doing good enough? did your feelings for me change? there were so many questions I want to ask, but sometimes, they were better left unanswered. these daggers piercing through my heart are more than enough to leave me bleeding profusely till I can't feel love anymore.
as I spent each day, yearning for your warmth and affection, there's something that I've come to realize as I take a step back to look at things. there will be no one else who would be able to fill your spot, not even with time. it's been months, almost a year that I've been standing here, not knowing what is wrong with me. that's because, nothing is wrong. everything made so much sense.
I love you and nothing can ever change that fact. even if you don't love me anymore, that's okay. all I will do is just stand here right behind you, protecting you from the shadows. although there might not be someone who would be by your side all the time, I will be right here behind you. until the day I get the chance to stand next to you, be the one you can rely on, I will be here for you.
there will be a day where we meet again, whether it be by chance or fate. and when that day comes, I want to be stronger than I am now, to give you that smile you loved so much when we were us. until then, I will take this role as your dark knight. looking over you from somewhere you wouldn't notice, offering you a hand when you struggle, finding solace right here. I know you would be able to tell that I am here, but please, leave me be. for the day I am able to let you go, will hopefully come.
so let me stay by your side for now, aeri.
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wittlesissyb4by · 1 day
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Chapter 1
Oh fuck! Oh FUCK! FUCK!
I overslept.
I was supposed to be at work over an hour ago. If I hurried, I could take a shower, throw on some clothes that still needed ironing, and make it there by 11 if there isn’t much traffic. 
Or…I could just call in sick. 
Having the day to myself would be nice. I’ve taken a day off each of the last 3 weeks and I have to say, I’ve really been enjoying the extra day of relaxation. Not that my job is too taxing, I sit at a desk all day and move numbers from one column to the other, but on days I’m home I get to be free. I get to be me. 
My roommate Max is at work until 5. That’s at least 7 solid hours of play time. My mind races with all the possible things I could do. I’m already getting hard just thinking about it. I grab my phone and tune my voice as I dial, my other hand on my crotch, rubbing in excitement. 
“HR, this is Kelly.”
“Hey K-Kelly” I say in a terrible excuse for a raspy voice, coughing unconvincingly. “I think I'm getting pretty sick…”
“Again? This is like the third week in a row.” She says.
“Yea, I dunno, some kind of weird viral thing I guess.”
Even through the phone she sounded skeptical. “Hmm…okay well go ahead and take the day off, and bring in a doctor’s note on Monday.”
“A doctor’s note?”
“Yea. You’ve already used all your PTO days for the year, so you’ll need a note from your doctor to have it count as a sick day. Otherwise we’ll have to dock your pay.”
America.
“Okay, well *ehem* I’ll get the note and bring it on Monday.” I say, knowing damn well I'm too lazy to do any of those things. Maybe they’ll forget, or shrug it off, I dunno, that’s future-Jake’s problem. 
Today, I’m gonna pamper myself. Literally. 
But first I have to shave my legs. I dunno why. For whatever reason it puts me in that mood. Having fresh, smooth legs makes me feel both feminine and infantile. 
After I’ve removed any trace of body hair, it’s time to decide what to wear. I have a large divider in my closet that serves as a false wall. It effectively hides an entire section tucked back in the corner. That’s where I keep all my supplies.
I’ve accrued quite a lot over the years. Slowly adding to my wardrobe and repertoire of toys. I rake the hangars along the rod as I search for my outfit of the day, all of them in various shades of pink.
Frilly dress? Na. Too frumpy. Onesie? Too tame. I’m in a particularly slutty mood. I want something slutty.
I decide on my go-to: the sexy Schoolgirl outfit. 
Sure, it’s cliche. But there's a reason it’s so common. Nothing makes me feel more fuckable than that skimpy skirt and the crop top. It’ll even show off my new belly button piercing!
I take some time putting it all on, pretending I’m getting ready for a hot date or something, or maybe just a gangbang.
The skirt can’t even hang properly because of how hard my cock is poking out. I stroke it a few times, fighting the urge to do it more. I have to control myself, I don’t want this to end too early.
Luckily, I’ve learned a great way to fix that.
I take a few seconds to decide on a diaper. I end up going with the pink BunnyHopps, for multiple reasons, but the main one being that they’re super cute. 
I unfurl the diaper and lay it down on my bed, turning around to position myself over it. The crinkle as I lower myself onto it always gets me going. The shaky excitement from something so simple is something I will never understand about myself. But as I’m pulling the front of the diaper up to tape it shut, I realize I’ve forgotten something. Gotta get a plug. Oh! And powder…
After a bit of grunting and frustration, I work the plug into my ass. I love how full it makes me feel, having it inside and tickling my prostate gives me the heebie jeebies. I powder myself as best I can without getting it all over my skirt, then pull the front flap of the diaper over me and tape it snugly. 
Mmmm the way it feels when I sit up, feeling the padding as the plug presses into me is such a high.  
I stand up and look at myself in the mirror. Not bad, but it can be better.
I take my shaggyish hair and separate it into two tiny pigtails. I’m getting better at making them even, but I wish my hair was a bit longer. Two little bows attached to each do make it look super cute, though. 
I close the door to my room…just in case. I don’t want Max to come home early and find me prancing around like a pretty sissy. I turn back around and get to what I was doing…
Creeeeakkk
I panic. Jumping around, caught in the act, attempting to cover myself as the door swings open.
Nothing.
No one’s on the other side, the door just…swung open on its own accord, and damn near gave me a heart attack. I push the door shut again but it doesn’t click, just slowly creaks back open. It takes me two more attempts to get it to stick and stay shut. I gotta fix that sometime soon. Maybe tomorrow. Or next week…
I spend the next hour in my computer chair watching make-up tutorials as I learn to apply my own. Trying to contour without making myself look like bozo the clown is something I’m still struggling to learn. I’m pretty happy with what I accomplished though. I bat my mascara’d eyelashes at myself and give a dainty smile to the mirror. I feel so pretty, but I could definitely use some lip gloss!
When I’m satisfied that I look like a proper, fuckable sissy slut. I prance around the room. Well, as much as I can with a plug and pamper between my bum. I love my new stockings and Mary Jane slippers! They really complete the look. 
“Oh! Have I been a naughty girl today, Professor?” I say in as best of a sissy voice as I can muster. “Are you going to make me stay after class and be…punished?”
I giggle daintily at my little made up scenario. It’s silly and, admittedly, pathetic, but it’s the best I can muster under the circumstances. Judging by how hard I am in my pampers, it seems to be working just fine.
I go back to my secret stash and rustle around until I find the dildo I’m looking for. The big, fleshy 8-incher complete with balls and a suction cup, a favorite of mine lately. 
“Oh Professor!” I say, twirling around with the cock so that my skirt swishes and my diaper crinkles. “Whatever could I do to make it up to you??”
“Well I think you should start by…sucking up to me a bit…” I mimic in a deeper voice, trying not to cringe at the awful line.
I place the dick to my glossy lips, batting my eyes up at the ceiling and putting on an innocent facade, “Like this Professor??”
“Yes you little whore. Now let’s see what you got!”
I close my eyes and take the fleshy dildo in my mouth. I hear myself let out a little moan. God it feels so good having something in there. I have several pacifiers to appease my oral fixation, but there’s nothing like a nice big cock, even if it’s a fake one…
I get down onto my knees, putting the dildo on the edge of the bed, pretending I’m servicing a real man. I suck and slurp and try to do all the things the blowjob tutorial videos told me to. I can’t help but rub the front of my diaper with my other hand. My dick is practically screaming at me to cum. I bring myself right up to the edge and–
Thonk!
Oh fuck! Was that a car door? Is Max home?? Oh shit. Shit shit shit shit! What if he sees me like this?? 
I toss the dildo to the side and bustle over to the window as fast as my plug and padding will allow. I peek through the blinds and heave a huge sigh of relief.
It’s just the neighbor. They must have forgotten something at work I guess.
Phew…close one. 
My heart is still beating out of my chest, and my stomach is still in knots from the adrenaline. All of my horniness has evaporated.
Well, kind of. One quick look in the mirror gets me worked up again, but at least I'm not so close to cumming now!
Stopping to take the time to wet my diaper, I hold my skirt up as I watch myself make the padding swell and the tint of the diaper change to a darker shade.  I press the front inward, feeling the warmth against my skin. What kind of freak do I have to be to enjoy this shit?
I put that thought out of my mind. 
Searching the room for the discarded dildo, I find it in the corner of the room before sitting down at my desk and plopping the rubber dick down on the surface in front of me.
It doesn’t take me long to find some porn to watch. I’ve recently discovered “FPOV” blowjob videos where, instead of it being from the male perspective looking down at someone sucking his dick, you get the girl’s perspective. Which means I get to watch the dick enter in and out of ‘my’ mouth. A front row seat to a big, sloppy blowjob. 
I put my headphones on so I can get the real experience. Following the girl on screen as she moves back and forth over the big, black dick. 
“You’re such a good little cocksucker!” a woman’s voice says.
Oh! This one has a voiceover. Someone degrading me and instructing me while I suck a dick? Yes please.
“Take it in your mouth! Deeper…deeper…”
I rub the front of my diaper, feeling my absolutely throbbing cock even through the pissy padding. ‘MMmphhing’ all over the dick in my mouth, making sure to keep it nice and wet.
“This is your purpose…this is what you were made for…”
I suck and slurp, the diaper crinkles and shifts. This is so hot!
“Men are going to use you…fuck your little whore mouth for their pleasure…”
“You are meant to worship perfect, huge, juicy cock!” 
“Suck him sissy! Suck him faster!”
I moan with the rubber dick in my mouth as I follow the voice’s instructions. The woman on screen was ‘mmming’ and ‘mmmphing’, but I was doing it louder. She spat on the dick, so did I. She stroked it with her saliva. So did I. 
“Do you feel like a little slut for him?”
I do.
“His little mouth whore?”
Yessss.
“He’s going to use your lips like a fleshlight.”
Whatever you sayy.
“You want his cum so fucking bad don’t you??”
The girl on the screen was moaning desperately, hungrily. Oh wait…that’s me.
“He’s going to cum! He’s going to cum!”
Oh god…I’m gonna cum. I need to stop–oh! Oh no…
I curse myself as I feel my body start to spasm. A new warmth fills the inside of my diaper. I can feel all my horniness leaving with it.
No! Not yet!! I whine at no one in particular. I had a whole day planned…and now it’s ruined. 
I hate how easily it tends to happen. I can’t get far into my regime at all without immediately blowing it….literally.
I feel like crying, but I don’t want my mascara to run. The plug immediately loses all of its appeal. I huff and puff as I rip the tapes of the diaper off, seeing my immense and gooey load making strings when the front flap flops open. I sit up a bit and yank the plug out a little harder than I intended, tossing it across the room.  
Plopping myself back down, the diaper feels cool and clammy now. Still, I reason, there’s no sense in wasting it, diapers are expensive, and the good thing about these BunnyHopps is they have the hook and loop tapes, which means I can put it right back on…even if it’s not nearly as fun now.
I check through the window again to make sure Max’s car isn’t out front before I head into the kitchen to make something to eat. I bring it back to my room, closing the door, and then closing it again after it doesn’t stay shut. 
Firing up my rig, I pull up League of Legends and start playing a few matches. I feel like one of those E-girls, dressing kind of skimpy and playing video games for boys’ attention. I don’t even have to get up to pee between matches, just get to release it all into my diaper. This is the life.
At around 2 o’clock, I feel the urge to use the bathroom in a different way. I sigh, knowing it’s the end of my diaper time. I head to the restroom to do my business, but stop before I get to the door. 
Actually, why don’t I just do it right here? Right now? After all, I am in a diaper. I don’t usually mess because Max is always here, but I have the house all to myself, and this diaper is on its last leg anyway. Why not? I’m allowed to treat myself, even if it's probably the weirdest way one would do so. 
I’ve always found it a bit awkward to poop in a diaper. How does one do it? Do you stand? Surely not. Do you sit? That seems messy, but I guess that’s kinda the point…I decide to squat down and handle it that way. 
It doesn’t happen immediately. I sit there awkwardly thinking about what someone would say if they saw me in this position.
“D’awwww!! Is the wittle baby making a pushy poo?? Hmm? Are joo making a big ‘ole mess for Mommy?”
The thought of that gives me a stirring in a different part of my diaper. I imagine myself surrounded by a group of beautiful women, forced to dirty my diaper in front of them while they all point and laugh.
“Stinky poo! Stinky poo! Now you’re going doo doo!!”
“Suck your thumb, loser!!”
I put my thumb in my mouth. I suck it while I grunt and push.
“A grown man dumping in a DIAPER!”
“Man? Looks like a sissy slut to me!”
I can actually see myself blushing in the mirror while the diaper sags under the weight of my warm mush that’s filling it.
“He did it! He did it!” the imaginary girls clap.
I can see my penis poking through the pampers. 
“And he LIKED it!”
“Show us how much you like it, loser!”
“Sit in your stinky seat!!”
I sit back on my butt and feel the mush spread inside. It’s sickening and feels yucky, but the girls love it.
“Bouncy bouncy baby!!”
I bounce on the floor, squishing the mess even more, sucking my thumb and making pathetic little noises as I slip into little space.
“Goo goo ga ga sissy girl!!”
I’m drooling on my thumb while the other is rubbing the front of my mushy diaper. I’m glad Max isn’t home to hear the ridiculous sounds I'm making. 
“I think he wants to MAKE a goo goo in his diapy!” The girls all laugh. Emma Watson, Kate Beckinsale, Natalie Portman, they’re all here. “On the floor! It’s time for dumpy humpies!!”
Someone also tells me to get my ‘big boi binky’. I grab the dildo off my desk and put it on the floor in front of me.
“Sucky sucky while you fucky fucky!!” 
I’m a mess in every sense of the word. Drooling all over the dick, wiggling back and forth in my defiled diaper, grinding against the ground, skirt, hair, make-up all disheveled.
The girls are clapping their hands and chanting. Goo GOO! Goo GOO! Goo GOO!
It feels so good, being a dirty little diaper bitch…I’m gonna…I’m gonna…
Beep!
Panic. Was that a car horn? No, a truck horn. Max’s truck. The sound it makes when it’s locking. He’s here.
I rush to the window, my destroyed diaper plopping side to side with every step. I peek through the blinds again, scanning the yard.
Nothing. No one in the driveway, no sign of Max.
Another sigh of relief. It’s hard to enjoy myself when I’m constantly on edge that I'll be caught. Sure, I’m in my room, but the stench alone could probably alert the neighbors. I check to see if I even came. 
Oh…yea..definitely did. But I don’t remember the orgasm. Shame. I’m overcome with shame and disgust again, and now I’m walking around in my own filth.
I carefully remove the diaper, trying to make sure the defecation doesn’t get on my skirt. In hindsight, I should have removed the skirt before opening the diaper, but I wasn’t thinking clearly. Now I've got a literal mess on my hands. I use one of my palms to cradle the diaper while using my other hand to keep my skirt from sticking to the filth on my backside. I carefully place the diaper down so I can use both of my hands to unzip my skirt safely and take it ,and my crop top, off, tossing them both out of harm’s way.
Now I have other shit to deal with. I carefully roll up the diaper and tape the biohazard up into a ball. The thing is massive and plump, but still has its pinkish hue. I want to take it out to the dumpster, but being naked with a muddy butt isn’t exactly the right attire to do so.
This is why I don’t make messy diapers. I’m so bad at dealing with the cleanup.
I decide to set it all down and go take a shower. I make sure to close my door behind me, and step across the hall into the bathroom. The warm water feels good on my clammy skin. I use the sprayer to hose the filth off my bum, finally feeling clean again. I put the nozzle back in its holster above, but it falls with a loud clunk. But even after I caught it, the sound persisted.
Someone was at the front door. 
Not knocking. They just…walked in. I could tell by the clatter the screendoor makes when it shuts too hard, another thing I was supposed to fix…
Is that Max? Or is someone breaking in? Max shouldn’t be off of work yet, it’s only 3, and he always works until at least 5. 
I listen to the footfalls, turning the water off so I can get a better listen. The steps are hard, like those of work boots. Max’s boots. They stomp down the hallway past the bathroom I’m in, past my door, and then to his.
I shut my door, right?
Yes. I did. I made sure of it.
But what if he smells my disgusting diaper?
In a bit of a panic, I hop out of the shower, grab a towel, and make my way out into the hall.
“Hey,” I say, unable to keep the panic from my voice.
Max turns, a weird look on his face, “Hey.” he replies.
“You’re home early.” I say, sounding like an unfaithful housewife.
He scratches his beard and sighs, “Yea, the guys got what they needed done and we should be good to pass inspection tomorrow so I sent ‘em home.”
“Oh, okay, cool.” It was awkward. We’ve lived together for almost two years now and it’s never been this awkward. Probably because I’m making it awkward.
“Well, I’m gonna go take a nap.” He rubbed his eyes, maybe a little too much. 
“Alright then, see ya later.”
“Later.”
He went into his room and closed the door behind him. I hurried to mine, reaching for the handle. 
But it wasn’t there. The door was open. Wide open. And all my stuff was splayed across it in full, easy view. The skimpy skirt, the crop top with the word ‘SISSY’ plastered across it, a realistic dildo with my drool still dripping down it and, right in the center of the floor, my big giant disgusting diaper.
…Is there any chance he didn’t see all of that?
To Be Continued
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moonspirit · 2 days
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Do you think annie have some like jealousy issues? Like idk
Do I *think* Annie has jealousy issues?!
Boi, anon.
I've got some news for you.
(I'm gonna assume you're an AruAni shipper since... Since *I* am, and you chose to ask me I guess?)
I made a few posts about this last year but I can't find them now so I'll reblog them later maybe, if you want, but see, the thing is, both Armin and Annie are jealous people.
It's just that this jealousy doesn't show up in the ways we're most often exposed to in media. You're not likely to find Annie making big accusations, pointing fingers, or gritting her teeth with a snarled "back off bitch". Nope.
Annie's jealousy (like Armin's) stems from a place of insecurity over her own image and self worth. Given her closed off childhood and dehumanisation by way of Warrior life and the titan power, she has known nothing of what love really is. Moreover she doesn't consider herself worth any of it; this is evident from how she doesn't believe Armin at first on the boat when he confesses his feelings.
Annie hasn't lived anything of what a normal, ordinary girl's life would've been like. So imagine then, that she sees a potential... Let's say, "competitor"? vying for Armin's attention and this new person is so different from her - all smiles, outgoing, easy to talk to, open heart. What do you think is going through her head then? "Oh this person is better than me... Ofc, why would Armin want to be with me after something like that? I'm incredibly boring, I don't smile, I don't open up; surely, he's better off with someone more cheerful like that." -> thus resulting in a mixture of sadness and jealousy.
At the same time, she's dependent on Armin's love for her now. She's actively seeking it out, verbally or otherwise, finding great comfort and solace in his acts of caring and affection. It's not going to be easy for her to just "let go" and maybe "walk away" the way she's probably telling herself to.
Putting both together, we can simply say that her jealousy is going to be expressed in a very quiet, withdrawn manner, with Armin unlikely to even know of it unless he notices a change in her behaviour and coaxes it out of her. Cue; plenty of cuddling, kisses, reassurances and teasing (from him, because she's adorable in jealousy).
That's all on jealousy. On a related note, Annie being possessive? That's a whole other issue!
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f4iry-bell · 12 hours
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Before I tell you about my request, I have to acknowledge that you are so FREAKING amazing at writing!!
Don't know if you've already done these before, but Jameson's POV of when he first met Avery, during the will reading, when he first snuck into Avery's room, and when Avery was leaving Will Blake's ranch in tfg. It's probably a lot, but I've been wanting to read about these for a while and I also know a good writer who is capable of doing that. Also, just know that I'm probably going to request you many more things to write about.
first of all I'm HONOURED. THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR TRUSTING ME. second of all, i really hope this satisfy you and is enough 😭😭I'm no jlb, this is completely of what I think jameson would have thought from my understanding. if you think otherwise please do let me know. again, it's completely from my understanding of jamie's character. also sorry it took so long.
NOTE: all four parts are here. pretty long. some copy pasted dialogues!!!!!! hope you enjoy.
Jameson meeting Avery for the first time.
It was not easy for the Hawthornes, everyone grieved in their own way. But for some reason the grievance was put aside today by everyone, Jameson would like to say he has put it aside as well but the bottle in his hand and the obvious intoxication would say otherwise. It is not a good idea to get drunk during an important time like the reading of the will of the great Tobias Hawthorne, and it's definitely not a good idea to leave your family hanging while one sits at the edge of the balcony, only supported by the railing. But that's exactly what Jameson Hawthorne did.
His mind was all over the place looking for something, something that would give him the thrill more than sitting at the edge of the balcony, drunk. He might have been wrong, but there was a two out of ten chance that he may be right. He refused to look away from the brown haired girl who was standing in the backyard, completely mesmerised by the Hawthorne backyard. As she took in the view he took in her features and movements. He finally decided to interact in the only way he knew to find out what she is.
“If yes is no and once is never , then how many sides does a triangle have?” His words slurred but it got her attention. She looked up to him, bending her neck backwards.
“You’re going to fall.” She told him.
He smirked. “An interesting proposition.”
“That wasn’t a proposition,” She said.
He offered her a lazy grin. “There’s no shame in propositioning a Hawthorne.” Jameson’s smirk grew a bit wider when she noticed that he was shirtless.
“You must be Mystery Girl,” he said.
“I’m Avery,” She corrected.
She looked at him like anyone who knew what recently happened in the Hawthorne family would look at him, wondering why his face was anything but filled with grief. He wouldn't blame her for being a little judgemental. He is very good at grieving in his own way and an expert at hiding it.
“Whatever you say, M.G.,” he retorted. “Can I call you M.G., Mystery Girl?” He was trying to taunt her at this point.
She crossed her arms. “No.”
He brought his feet up to the railing and stood. He wobbled, he could see her thinking about something with worry and panic when he put one foot in front.
“Don't!” But he didn't listen to her. He twisted and grabbed the railing with his hands, holding himself vertical, feet in the air and dropped. He landed right next to her.
“You shouldn’t be out here, M.G.” He told her.
“Neither should you.” He can tell that her heart is beating fast. It was so obvious. Janeson’s heart was racing too, he told himself that it was because of the stunt he just pulled.
“If I do what I should no more often than I say what I shouldn’t”—his lips twisted—“then what does that make me?”
She sighed like she just realised who he is. She was taking in his features to make sure, especially his eyes, and his abs.
“What,” he repeated intently, “does that make me?”
“Drunk,” She said. Jameson was about to say something else, he was ready with a comeback but she added two more words. “And two.”
“What?” Jameson Hawthorne said.
“The answer to your first riddle,” She told him. “If yes is no and once is never , then the number of sides a triangle has… is… two .” She didn't explain her answer, she didn't have to.
“Touché, M.G.” Jameson ambled past her, brushing his bare arm lightly over mine as he did. “Touché.” He was impressed and intrigued.
Two out of ten, this time the odds were in his favour. And now that Jameson Hawthorne got the answer he wanted from this Mystery Girl, he has no plan to leave her alone. That moment he knew she was special. And his grandfather brought her here for a reason. He will find out why.
The Will Read
Jameson made his way to his wing and managed to find himself a shirt and suit jacket. He checked himself in the mirror once before heading to The Great Room. Once he was inside his eyes looked for a specific pair of brown eyes but he realised Avery hadn't arrived yet. He went further inside and stood with the rest of his family. Soon he watched Avery make her way inside and made eye contact with him. He immediately gave her a cheeky smile and a salute, he can also noticed Grayson stiffened at his action through the corner of his eyes.
Once the lawyers made sure everyone who is mentioned in the will was in the room they started. First, they handed an envelope to everyone in the family and to Avery as well. They were asked to open the letters after the will reading. Jameson is already curious about his letter and what the old man has to say to him and to Avery Grambs. His eyes were fixated on her envelope for a whole minute before focusing on the reading prudently.
“Mr. Hawthorne stipulated that all of the following individuals must be physically present for the reading of this will: Skye Hawthorne, Zara Hawthorne-Calligaris, Nash Hawthorne, Grayson Hawthorne, Jameson Hawthorne, Alexander Hawthorne, and Ms. Avery Kylie Grambs of New Castle, Connecticut.”
Everyone's eyes including a pair of green ones were on her. Avery Kylie Grambs.
“...To my daughters, Zara Hawthorne-Calligaris and Skye Hawthorne, I leave the funds necessary to pay off all debts accrued as of the date and time of my death.” Mr. Ortega paused before speaking, he looked directly at Zara and Skye then back to the will.
“Additionally, I leave to Skye my compass, may she always know true north, and to Zara, I leave my wedding ring, may she love as wholly and steadfastly as I loved her mother.” Another pause, more painful than the last.
“Go on.” That came from Zara’s husband.
“To each of my daughters,” Mr. Ortega read slowly, “beyond that already stated, I leave a one-time inheritance of fifty thousand dollars.”
Jameson wanted to smile but he knew better, just like how he knew that his mother and aunt won't be the one holding the old man's entire fortune. It's not a surprise, none of them should be surprised that the person who would be taking the fortune would be the heir apparent, his brother, Grayson Devenport Hawthorne.
There was a mini quarrel between Zara and Skye on how Jameson and his brothers became the old man's favourite, how Skye gave them to him so that her sons would have the inheritance.
“Now, if I may continue…” Mr. Ortega looked back down at the will in his hands. “To my grandsons, Nash Westbrook Hawthorne, Grayson Davenport Hawthorne, Jameson Winchester Hawthorne, and Alexander Blackwood Hawthorne, I leave…”
“Everything,” Zara muttered bitterly.
Mr. Ortega spoke over her. “Two hundred and fifty thousand dollars apiece, payable on their twenty-fifth birthdays, until such time to be managed by Alisa Ortega, trustee.”
Everyone heard Alisa’s audible shock. Unlike his brother Grayson who was utterly shocked and threw knives for the word ‘what’ Jameson Hawthorne thought that this is getting interesting.
The old man didn't leave everything to Grayson like everyone thought the old man would because of the way he was groomed. Or to Nash, or to Xander, or to me. There is only one person left in the will. There could be two things happening right here, and if his guess is right…
“The remainder of my estate,” Mr. Ortega read, “including all properties, monetary assets, and worldly possessions not otherwise specified, I leave to Avery Kylie Grambs.”
And it was indeed right, if you're smart you would have seen this coming right after they read that Tobias Hawthorne didn't leave his fortune to his daughters or his grandsons. The only blood related heirs. But now? A new heiress. Not blood related as far as he knows. She is not a random girl. He knew his grandfather too well to know that he wouldn't randomly write his entire fortune to a stranger. This is something. He doesn't know what she is yet. But he will find out.
Everyone's demeanour changed, especially Skye and Gray's. Not surprised. Even Avery’s, she is in utter shock, he can only say that much.
“...I assure you, there is no mistake.” Mr. Ortega met my gaze, then turned his attention to the others. “And I assure the rest of you, Tobias Hawthorne’s last will and testament is utterly unbreakable. Since the majority of the remaining details concern only Avery, we’ll cease with the dramatics. But let me make one thing very clear: Per the terms of the will, any heir who challenges Avery’s inheritance will forfeit their share of the estate entirely.”
“No will is that ironclad,” Constantine said, his voice acidic.
“Not when there’s this kind of money at stake.” “Spoken,” Nash Hawthorne interjected, “like someone who didn’t really know the old man.”
“Traps upon traps,” Jameson murmured. Trying to look into the old man's mind about this context. Trying to look into her mind. “And riddles upon riddles.” He looked right into Avery's eyes looking for something.
“I think you should leave,” Grayson told me curtly. An order. Typical Grayson.
“Technically…” Alisa Ortega sounded like she’d just swallowed arsenic. “It’s her house.”
“I don’t understand,” She said.
“My daughter is correct.” Mr. Ortega kept his tone neutral. “You own it all, Ms. Grambs. Not just the fortune, but all of Mr. Hawthorne’s properties, including Hawthorne House. Per the terms of your inheritance, which I will gladly go over with you, the current occupants have been granted tenancy unless—and until—they give you cause for removal.” He let those words hang in the air. “Under no circumstances,” he continued gravely, his words rife with warning, “can those tenants attempt to remove you.”
Oren stood between us and her.
“Oren!” Zara sounded shocked. “You work for this family.”
“I worked for Mr. Hawthorne.” John Oren paused and held up a piece of paper. It took me a moment to realise that it was his letter.
“It was his last request that I continue in the employment of Ms. Avery Kylie Grambs.” He glanced at her “Security. You’ll need it.”
“And not just to protect you from us!” Xander added to her left.
“Take a step back, please,” Oren ordered.
Xander held his hands up. “Peace,” he declared. “I make dire predictions in peace!”
“Xan’s right.” Jameson smiled, he knew it and he knew that he is not wrong about this. A random girl picked out from a random place far from home to be The Hawthorne Heiress, this isn't something regular, this a game. One of the old man's games. “The entire world’s going to want a piece of you, Mystery Girl. This has story of the century written all over it.” He reminded her about the media and how the world is going to talk about her.
Avery didn't say anything, she walked outside. He wanted to follow her but instead he opened the envelope that was held by him.
Jameson going to Avery’s room through the secret passageway
Avery didn't stay at Hawthorne House that night, he assumed her bodyguard and lawyer took her to one of the hotel's that was owned by Tobias Hawthorne and now hers. He saw her later the next day solving the keys, yet another game that proved that she is special, she solved it faster than any Hawthorne to start with. That night Jameson read his letter again and again, it took him one read to realise it was a clue, he can't help but read it again to see what it says, where it leads. But he also knew this would be nothing without the major clue, a walking brown eyed clue.
If he was a normal person he would have knocked on her door. Jameson Hawthorne is anything but normal. He walked into her wing and moved a picture frame to solve a simple puzzle to release a handle that popped two inches away from the drawer nearby the picture frame, he pulled it and twisted it four times to make the drawer and the wall it was attached to open.
Secret passageway. It was everywhere in Hawthorne House.
He made his way inside and made his way to his grandfather’s room, now owned by Avery. Once he was close to the fireplace he heard nothing, almost thought she wasn't there. But he gave it a shot anyway.
“Pull the candlestick.”
He wasn't sure if she heard because it was dead silent. So he spoke again “Pull the candlestick on the fireplace, Heiress. Unless you want me stuck back here?” His tone was frisky.
“Pretty sure this qualifies as stalking.” His lips curved into a smile once she said that.
He can tell that she was just pulling it. “Don’t just pull forward. Angle it down.”
She did as he asked. Once he heard the click and saw the gap below, Jameson lifted the fireplace up to the mantle to go through the opening. Once he was in the room he positioned the candlestick back to it's original form.
“Secret passage,” he explained to know if it intrigues her. “The house is full of them.”
“Am I supposed to find that comforting?” She asked him. “Or terrifying?”
“You tell me, Mystery Girl. Are you comforted or terrified?” He let me sit with that for a moment. “Or is it possible that you’re intrigued?
She didn't say anything but he knew the answer. She didn't ask him what he expected her to ask.
“You’re not asking about the keys.” Jameson offered her a crooked little smile. “I expected you to ask about the keys.”
She held the keys up. “This was your doing.” Not a question, he noted.
“It’s a little bit of a family tradition.” He said with a motive. He has done nothing but think about the will reading and raise questions to himself, whys and hows.
“I’m not family.” She tried to make a statement but wasn't sure herself.
He tilted his head to one side. “Do you believe that?”
“I don’t know.” She thought before she spoke. Does she know something? That was Janesons first thought.
“It would be a shame,” Jameson commented, “if we were related.” He spared another smile for me, slow and sharp-edged. “Don’t you think?” Jameson is good at a lot of things, flirting is definitely one of them.
“I think that you already have more family than you can deal with.” She crossed my arms. “I also think you’re a lot less smooth than you think are. You want something.”
Points to Heiress. She's quick.
“Everyone is going to want something from you soon, Heiress.” Jameson smiled. “The question is: How many of us want something you’re willing to give?” He spoke in a way that would make her want to give into him. But her resistance was stronger than he thought.
“Stop calling me Heiress,” She shot back. “And if you turn answering my question into some kind of riddle, I’m calling security.”
“That’s the thing, Mystery Girl. I don’t think I’m turning anything into a riddle. I don’t think I have to. You are a riddle, a puzzle, a game—my grandfather’s last.” He spoke and looked at her very intently. He didn't care how it sounded to her, he was sure of what he believed to be true.
“Why do you think this house has so many secret passages? Why are there so many keys that don’t work in any of the locks? Every desk my grandfather ever bought has secret compartments. There’s an organ in the theater, and if you play a specific sequence of notes, it unlocks a hidden drawer. Every Saturday morning, from the time I was a kid until the night my grandfather died, he sat my brothers and me down and gave us a riddle, a puzzle, an impossible challenge—something to solve. And then he died. And then…” Jameson took a step toward her. “There was you.” He tried explaining to her how Hawthorne House is, how his grandmother was. Why his grandfather chose her wasn't random.
“Grayson thinks you’re some master manipulator. My aunt is convinced you must have Hawthorne blood. But I think you’re the old man’s final riddle—one last puzzle to be solved.” He took another step, bringing the two of them much closer. “He chose you for a reason, Avery. You’re special, and I think he wanted us—wanted me —to figure out why.”
This point he was convinced that she was a puzzle to be solved or a clue that would lead him to something. Something his grandfather wanted him to find, to know. Because the old man knew damn well that Jameson Hawthorne could never resist a game.
“I’m not a puzzle.” Her heart was beating faster because of their closeness or because of what he's saying.
“Sure you are,” Jameson said. “We all are. Don’t tell me that some part of you hasn’t been trying to figure us out. Grayson. Me. Maybe even Xander.”
“Is this all just a game to you?” She put her hand out to stop him from advancing farther. He took one last step, forcing her palm to his chest. That touch shouldn't have excited him, even if it did, he didn't concentrate on it.
“Everything’s a game, Avery Grambs. The only thing we get to decide in this life is if we play to win.” He reached up to brush the hair from her face, and she jerked back.
“Get out,” She said lowly. “Use the normal door this time.”
“You’re angry,” Jameson said. Making her angry isn't helpful, if she's angry with him she may not help. Or see that this is a game, and she is a piece of it.
“I told you—if you want something, ask. Don’t come in here talking about how I’m special. Don’t touch my face.”
“You are special.” Jameson kept his hands to himself, but the heady expression in his eyes never shifted.
“And what I want is to figure out why. Why you, Avery?” He took a step back, giving her space. “Don’t tell me you don’t want to know, too.”
She does, she wants to know. She must.
“I’m going to leave this here.” Jameson held up an envelope. He laid it carefully on the mantel. “Read it, and then tell me this isn’t a game to be won. Tell me this isn’t a riddle.” Jameson reached for the candelabra, and as the fireplace passage opened once more, he offered a targeted, parting shot. “He left you the fortune, Avery, and all he left us is you.”
Avery coming out of Vincent Blake’s mansion (tfg)
Jameson wouldn't forgive himself if something happened inside, if someone happened to either of them. Avery and Grayson. Especially Avery because he let her go inside, knowing the kind of man Vincent Blake is. His heart could pop out any second, it was beating that fast. He tried to keep it cool with all the paparazzi outside. He kept looking at the gate, waiting for her. For her to come out alive and bring his brother, maybe Toby even. Whatever is happening inside, he prays that she is winning. Somehow she must.
His heart skipped a beat once he saw Avery come out with Grayson and Toby. He wanted to run and hug her, he didn't care that they'd cause a scene. but he stopped himself because he saw Toby talking to her, he slowly made his way to them and the car. To let her know he was there. He also let her have her moment with Toby.
He didn't know what happened inside, but from the look of it he can tell that Avery won. Whatever game they played, however she played, she won. And she was safe along with Grayson. That's all that mattered to him at that moment.
When she made her way to him, he didn't ask her what happened. “The knight returns with the damsel in distress,” Jameson declared. He glanced toward Grayson. “You’re the damsel.”
“I figured,” Grayson deadpanned.
“What are you doing here?” She asked Jameson. He can see the victory in her eyes, she was more open with him now that the first time they met. It was getting easier to tell what she was thinking.
“I thought you could use a ride home,” Jameson told her. She looked past him, expecting to see a helicopter.
“Pretty sure you aren’t allowed to land a helicopter there,” Grayson told his brother.
“You know what they say about permission and forgiveness,” Jameson replied, then he focused back on her with a familiar look—equal parts I dare you and I’ll never let you go. “Want to learn to fly?”
Avery smiled and took his hand. He still didn't ask her what happened, he just enjoyed her victory in the air. Just Avery and Jameson.
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revvethasmythh · 1 month
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I am curious about how Liliana and Ludinus' goals differ. Because Ludinus' obvious goal is to eradicate the gods--Liliana's, however, is apparently to free the Ruidusborn from the burden of their powers. How do these two things coincide? Obviously we can see how releasing Predathos causes the downfall of the gods, but why would releasing Predathos help the Ruidusborn? The obvious (though not necessarily correct) conclusion one would jump to is that, in order for Ruidusborn/Exaltants to be free from their powers, one would need to kill Predathos, not just free him. So I'm led to wonder if Liliana is willing to aid Ludinus in achieving his goal (kill the gods) in order to achieve her goal through some secondary effect (however one goes about killing a thing powerful enough to kill the gods). Which I suppose makes some sense, because why would you go to the effort to destroy all the gods only to allow a creature of equal-to-greater power of the gods continue to exist over Exandria? You wouldn't, would you? You'd probably want that to be gone as well
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craycraybluejay · 6 months
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Bruh I be having literally the worst urges and I feel bad that I don't feel bad at all. Like damn. Guess I'm really like that. Well, anyway.
#i am apathetic to whatever monstrosities lie within my mindscape#or rather i enjoy them and am apathetic to the idea that they are evil#unfortunately the fact that I'm excited ab them makes me rly rly rly want to talk ab them#which would be bad#but if it gets bad enough i think its time i let my therapist in on the next circle of anouther hell#i know she will be kind no matter what i spring on her#but this. i dont know how to feel or what to think about all this#its pathological. i can fix it about as well as i can fix the fact that i adore music or get turned on by fear or am consistently-#-platonically or otherwise pulled to murderers and the like#i know its some psychosexual nonsense-- some fixation rooted in some perverse symbolism that i cant fully grasp#its so difficult to be a BadWrong thoughts and desires person#bc even tho i have like. some level of control and ethicsband whatnot. even tho im not doing the guilt ocd thing.#even though i know im ok the way i am#i also know i cant talk ab it. cant be excited about it. cant vent or happy rant about it. stay quiet. let it eat ya#cause ppl cant accept some things cant like. come to terms with things. again and again#i find myself relating more to 'good people' but being able to talk more openly and honestly with 'bad people'#like im too far from either side to ever be fully myself but i must let it out#and so i find i cant trust the people i love most with some of the most personal things more than i can trust a complete stranger#because at least that stranger has no spare room to judge. and i cant give af about losing a strangers high esteem of me#i share something truly heinous and sure i may be threatened but. disappointment from ppl u love is worse than murderous rage from strangers#which came first- the fixation or the corruption? i think it was the fixation#i was like that before. whatever false indulgences i have given myself will always sate the beast and not create it#i am not a bad person. but i will always have a monster inside me. a balancing act between#being a somewhat polite functioning member of society and completely losing myself to the dark#i dont hate myself. i wish i did sometimes so i wouldnt have the urge to vomit it all out#i wish i hated myself and felt such guilt over all that so i could be happy with being quiet. i wish it was only good that excited me proper#or rather i wish i knew someone like me in the right ways. irl. no phones no danger. who i could share with excitedly and not feel like ill#be told that im a freak who deserves to die. someone who will share equally horrific things with me and will keep me in check#i want talk therapy but with someone that has something SO wrong with them. a friendship that is nasty and fun and grossly honest#someone to say 'i know what ur talking ab/how u feel' when i say something pitch dark
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tuttle-did-it · 3 months
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remember that time Tom Paris went really fast, died, resurrected himself by became a Time Lord, evolved into a salamander, kidnapped the captain who also turned into a salamander (and possibly would have also become a Time Lord), mated with the captain (apparently REALLY quickly, they weren't missing for that long??), had three salamander babies, abandoned the salamander babies and then he and the captain were magically transformed back to normal with not even a scar? and then it was never, ever mentioned again.
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crimeronan · 6 months
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i'm allergic to most of medical and mental health youtube but i will confess i DO enjoy skits about working in rheumatology. mostly because they are so specific and yet so relatable. it's kinda comforting to know that all rheumatologists everywhere are the same.
my absolute favorite vids are the one with a beleaguered rheumatologist snapping "if an ANA is positive in the absence of any relevant symptoms, disregard it"
and then the consulting doc rattling off a constellation of Very Strange / Serious test results and physical symptoms (that.... most laypeople do not get, but i understand 95% of, just bc of the nature of..... The Ordeal), & the rheumatologist being like
:O :O :O THIS IS THE WEIRDEST WAY FOR A PATIENT TO DIE EVER???? CAN I SEE THEM IMMEDIATELY???? I MEAN PUT THEM ON IV STEROIDS RIGHT NOW BUT I'M GONNA WRITE A PAPERRRRRR
bc that is. EXACTLYYY how things went for me,,,
in nearly Every doctor's appointment over the past 2ish years, i've had the attending go, "hey, would it..... be okay if.... i brought my supervisor in here.....??" and i go "sure," and then the supervisor comes in and looks at whatever fuckin New Deformity Of The Week has appeared, and they immediately go
"oh, WOW...... that's....... So Interesting...... woahahwow....."
like. my freaky bullshit delighted the docs to the point that they just. forgot their bedside manner. if one ever existed in the first place. like i am not exaggerating when i say that i've had more than one healthcare practitioner ask if i'd give them permission to access all my case notes for research paper purposes.
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skrunksthatwunk · 10 months
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wip as an excuse to show her off because she's cute to me but also so i can rant in the tags about The Malfunctions I Am Experiencing During This Piece
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13eyond13 · 1 year
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#been thinking about genetics and nature vs nurture and all this sort of stuff a lot lately#and just contemplating why people are the way they are and how much is sort of hardwired vs learned etc.#anyway I'm definitely wayyyy more like my dad than my mom and i think i have actually learned to become sort of the ideal companion#for people like my mom#because my mom is the harder to please and stronger personality in the household who is way more obviously emotional and sensitive#and i empathized with her automatically in a sort of female solidarity way as the household is all boys otherwise#but anyway i know im just naturally like my dad in disposition and humour and looks and everything else but i also know i probably studied#how he handles my mom and her outbursts and insecurities and learned to react to it similarly to him as well#she's a very odd mix of one of the most empathetic kindest people you'll ever meet and also incredibly critical and sensitive to criticism#and she barely ever will tell you you did a good job at anything and will point out mostly only the bad stuff or flaws in whatever you do#yet also HATES that her own mom is exactly the same way and was traumatized by that growing up herself#i honestly 100% believe her mom (my grandma) is undiagnosed autistic and simply doesnt even realize how she comes off but it really#affected my mom growing up and now she is constantly on alert for anything that could possibly be a critique of her and will throw you#under the bus instead if you ever say something even remotely close to negative about her or arent extremely thoughtful about showing up#to the multiple events she hosts every single week#anyway the way my dad usually reacts is just being extremely quiet and steady and dry humoured in reaction to this and when she starts#critiquing him and bringing up all his past failures as a way of making herself feel better about her own bad self esteem he kind of just#takes it and doesnt take it personally because he knows shes doing it for low self esteem reasons#even though its not really fair to him and she would absolutely hate anybody doing the same to her#when i think of my dad's gentle quietness and humour and how much he hates being aggressive or critical i think of when we played a#board game called qwelf once and in the game he was made to act like a drill sergeant and scold and yell at all of us as we moved#our pieces around the board and the best he could do was to mutter stuff like 'get your buns in gear there soldier!'#it makes me lol to remember it my god he simply can't it's the most unnatural thing for him in the world#anyway i always wonder how much of my similarities to him are just genes and how much are learning from him#by watching and admiring and mimicking#because having nieces shows me that kids are absolutely little sponges who try to do everything they see you doing without even knowing#if it's a good thing to be mimicking or not and that can be a bit of a terrifying responsibility as the adult#i am glad i learned good coping mechanisms from dad and how to handle unfair criticism and lack of praise in stride as well but#something i had to teach myself as an adult was how to have healthy boundaries and be assertive when i feel like im being treated poorly#because my parents are both huge people pleasers who struggle with it themselves
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angorwhosebabyisthis · 4 months
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does anyone have recommendations for a good style guide to make rpg rulebooks accessible for screen readers without losing a bunch of important readability aspects in the process? all the screen reader style guides i can find are more for webpages than rulebooks, which seem like good principles for web design, but, uh. in large part just come down to 'don't make anything that utilizes [major aspects of a rulebook's design, structure, and presentation]' instead of like. giving advice for how to denote these things in a way that screen readers can communicate well over plain text. i don't use one, so it's not intuitive for me to tell what's something most people consider a necessary sacrifice for parsing described content vs things that will just bog it down, as well as what structures work best to make shit less confusing in general.
i'm totally happy to chop things up and rearrange them for the screen reader-accessible versions! i just, well, need to know how to do that. again, if anyone has good resources, tips, or examples of a rulebook that was well-formatted for you, they are very much welcome!
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bibiana112 · 1 year
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Finished Danganronpa Lapse and tbh nobody gets it like I do because every review I've seen wasn't made by someone who's played zero escape Why did Echo do that? ZTD shifting strats that's why! Lyle's canonically a zero escape nerd who brings up the morphogenetic field as a quick joke and is introduced arguing about the funyarinpa, do I think all these references get in the way and that it's a bit underwhelming when this comes unexplained out of nowhere? Absolutely! But it's so clearly an element the creator was inspired by and wanted to include and play with rather than a lazy last minute deal to fix 'plot holes'
#honestly I enjoyed this game a lot and only let myself play because it ties into current hyperfixation but#it#wasn't fun to do the whole shifting thing again felt like it was way too caught up on both it's influences and trying to be it's own thing#at be very same time somehow#I liked it when it for ehat it was though#I found the characters charming to no end but sadly unexplored for the most part#loved Lyle loved Sei and Missy and so many others I want to draw them all so bad (is stranded away from drawing tablet and otherwise busy)#the bad endings inclusion feels weird#when the shifting started I thought for a second that we'd get two different trials depending on our choice which didn't turn out to be it#which I feel would have been a more fun exploration of concept than what we got#it's a free game and it's imoressive for what we got presentation wise I was in love with it begining to end I think the issues are more#at like a conceptual level#decisions that were made that could have used some more passes or even more people's input? not sure but it felt like a personal oc project#which is nice to see but just probably what's not matching expectations since the polish it lacks is in such a story structure kind of way#like the pacing and the order in which new concepts and themes are presented is a bit dissonant#and people's expectations of it being a fangan only exacerbate that slight issue#it was shorter than I expected and while I do think the pacing would have benefited from more time I get how it'd be a big undertaking#I'm overall happy and will go back to get the ending I missed but it mostly feels like there's untapped potential there#which is a great sign that whatever next project the person tackles will be pretty good#and also that I may or may not blorbo out to fill in the gaps#only time will tell though lol#danganronpa lapse
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