#i did not expect to like it this much i am having so many thoughts

[motheroffeline]

Apologize

Pairing: Toxic! Professor! Terry Richmond x Black! Fem! Virgin! Reader

Warnings: 18+ minors do not interact, abuse of power, P in D, oral (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), humiliation, and a bit of choking.

Summary: your parents practically pushed you to pursue college because at first you were considering starting an Only Fans account. At first glance you seem like a respectable young lady but once again what did outer appearances tell you? Nothing really. Pushing other people's boundaries is your forte and going against the grain is what gives you a thrill: that is until a certain man puts you in your place. Thoughts? You guys can give me feedback since I do want to improve my writing. I may be delusional in most cases but if something doesn't read well then, I will improve on it. Other than that, enjoy!

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

It was raining as you walked to class and the only place you wanted to be right now was home in your own bed not a disgusting dorm room but a warm bed. Your parents made sure to spoil you at every interval in your life which started to have dire consequences. At some point, the money flow got a bit short, so you planned on starting a literal Only Fans. Of course, it didn't work because why else would you be walking in the rain to a place you don't want to go? As you walked in, everybody was already seated and staring at you like there were horns on your head.

You decided to sit in the far back away from everyone else because no one knew you and you didn't know them. The professor came in a few minutes later and he was... quite younger and better looking than you would have imagined but the thought dissipated as he began to speak.

"Hello, my name is Terry Richmond, and I will have the satisfaction of teaching all of you. For starters, if you have any questions about an exam or something that you don't get you can either talk about it here or email me. As for me, I am a former marine and you may have heard about me from certain other sources. Today we will be learning about general history or in specifics: 19th century customs and how these customs have changed or dissolved over the years." His eyes were so captivating you didn't hear a damn word he said but you'd be damned if you asked him to repeat anything. Something about him spelled strictness and good work ethnic which you did not have, nor did you ever expect to have.

The strict nature that he seemed to have made you want to test him though, see what type of shit he was on. You had lost many friends in the past because of how unapologetically conniving you were at times but who needed real life friends? Everybody that you talked to either came off of Discord or Twitter and that was enough human interaction in your opinion.

You pulled out your laptop and begin to log into your canvas and to your horror the assignments seemed endless. Even in high school you had other people do your assignments because the work was just too much to do. And it was history, probably the most boring subject out there but Terry taught it with vigor and eagerness.

"In 19th century England, mourning behavior had developed a strict system of rules which involved women wearing heavy black clothing, and the usage of black crepe veils. The wealthy would often wear cameos or lockets designed to hold a lock of the deceased's hair or a similar relic. Before I go on, can anyone note how mourning has changed in the 21st century? For example, do you believe that mourning has become more a private practice?" You had found yourself about to go to sleep listening to him talk on and on about what some old English ladies used to do. Some part of you just wanted to scream live in the fucking present! But you were in general history after all.

Rolling your eyes and wanting to walk out of class, you put your headphones on and listened to some Glorilla. Terry's eyes drifted over to where you were sitting, and his eyes narrowed. "Y/n, can you please put away your headphones? You may be in a college class but have some decorum." Begruntled, you pulled off your headphones and said, "you asked us about mourning did you not? Right now, I'm mourning the loss of my sanity. You don't even know if I was listening to music or not." Snickers and hushed comments started to dance around but Terry quickly silenced them.

"In my class, there is a no headphone policy and if you want them on you do that at your own time not mines. Matter of fact, if you want to be out of line you can do that out of my class." His voice had deepened and there was a nonchalance about how he laid the rules down. It was turning you on to be honest and you didn't know how you felt about it. The only action you had ever got in your life was from a pillow and your own fingers which, admittedly, made you kind of desperate sometimes.

He cleared his voice and continued on "now, as I was saying, customs related to mourning have changed as of recent but not much. Black is still seen as a color of grief but very few people will keep a loved one's hair or other thing of that nature behind. Social etiquette and dignity have changed quite a lot as well in modern times. For instance, in the 19th century bowing and conduct to avoid at balls were quite grandiose compared to modern times which can differ on the region where someone lives. In the South, individuals tend to be more accommodating towards social etiquette and engage in small talk which is a contrast from more Northern regions." You could hear the keys of keyboards typing and people nodding as they went along with the lesson, but you couldn't care less. It was a waiting game for you at the very least and as soon as you were allowed to leave you would be the first one at the door.

******************************************************************

It was finally time to go, and you hurriedly began collecting your things, but Terry once again stopped you in your tracks.

"Stay behind Y/n, there are some things that I have to talk with you about." He was going to make a big deal about it, and it was seen in those multicolored eyes of his. You wondered if they were contacts, but you doubt, you'd get that close to him in the first place. As people started to funnel out of the classroom a surge of anxiety took over you and you didn't even know why. This wouldn't be the first time you had tested somebody but something about this put a bad feeling in your gut.

He paced over to his desk and pulled out the seat to sit down. "Y/n, come sit down in front of me." You gulped and made your way to the seat which gave you no choice but to observe him. The man wasn't just handsome he was gorgeous in every conceivable way you could think of.

"I think that you should apologize for your outburst today, so we won't be repeating those incidents." His voice left no room for arguments, but you liked to argue so that was that.

"Dude, I just had my headphones on like I wasn't even bothering anybody, and I think it was wrong how you singled me out like that. We're all adults anyways and we paid for the class so like can you be a little less strict? For me I can't even focus unless I got some music playing." Terry kissed his teeth and leaned back in his chair as he looked at you with a judgmental look on his face.

"Excuse, that's all what that is I know you can focus for just a few minutes. The seminar wasn't even long considering that it was just an introduction to the class. You should be considerate of other people who "paid for the class" like you said." You didn't know if you were tripping or what, but he seemed to be smirking a bit. Your panties grew wet in the center, and everything was just telling you to get up and run.

"Can I go now?" You said with a tense voice. His smirk had grown quite prominent, and he wasn't even hiding his satisfaction anymore. It was clear that he wanted to put you in your place, it was almost like he was receiving some sadistic joy from seeing you be nervous.

"No, I still have some other things to talk with you about; like how your thighs are pressing together right now, what's wrong with you? Hm?" The demeanor had changed, and you noticed how his voice seemed persuasive now. "I'm going to be completely honest with you be a bitch if you want. Hell, I'll even let you get out of doing exams and assignments, but you have to do one thing for me." He stood up and began to walk around to where you were sitting, and you could smell his cologne which was a mix of tobacco, cedar, oud and shea butter.

"Show me a good time and I'll let you get away with shit is what I'm saying." It was a demand instead of a question, but you found yourself wanting to be underneath his thumb. For a long time, you were curious about being sexually intimate because it seemed like something that most people expected you had already done. But this was your professor for fuck's sake... sure, he was tantalizingly handsome but none of this could go well. The devil on your shoulder wanted to risk everything to feel his plump lips moving against yours and those lips on your other lips...

"Okay, what do you want me to do?" He was massaging your shoulders now and you wanted to moan because of how good it all felt. Doing some forbidden like this had been a hidden fantasy of yours for a while now but you actually didn't think it'd be happening right now and suddenly, college got interesting.

Terry licked his lips and tilted your chin up to look at him, "I want you ass naked in about a minute with your legs spread. Then, I'm gonna eat that pussy until you're crying, won't even be able to talk shit when I'm done with you." That proper act had gone out the window when you agreed, and you got a real sense of how debauched he was. The thought of a man between your legs sent both a thrill and some fear through you.

"Um hopefully this doesn't ruin out lil agreement thingy but I'm a virgin so I don't know what to do." Terry was standing in front of you now with that award winning smile on his face knowing that he held all the power in the situation.

"I'll guide you through everything, you ain't even gotta lift a finger. Now, take off those clothes I wanna good look at you I bet you taste good too." You shivered as the air hit your exposed body as you began to take off your clothes and his fingers immediately started twisting your ebony nipples and you mewled. Everything about it felt so... unreal. Just a moment ago he was lecturing you about the 19th century and now he was going to be your first sexual experience.

"Oh god it feels so good. Please don't stop oh my goddd." You were writhing as he twisted your nipples like little knobs slowly causing you to unravel from how intense it was.

"Feels good doesn't it? Look at how wet your pussy is you're dripping on the carpet." His fingers began rubbing your clit in gentle circular motions and you wanted to marry him in that moment. He was touching you better than you had ever touched yourself and it was driving you crazy.

"I feel like I'm gonna pee mmmmm please keep doing that..." Your arousal had formed a pool on the floor as he continued to rub your clit.

"You're not gonna pee baby you're gonna cum real nice for me." Terry slowly inserts one of his fingers inside of you stroking your g spot and you wail. Everything about the man was too damn good. There was that smirk again because he knew that he was the one in charge of your pleasure.

Suddenly, he got down in his knees in front of you and licked you from you from clit to hole. His tongue was wide basically covering most of your area with its width. The way his finger was touching your spot and the way his tongue was flicking away sent you right over the edge.

"Ahhhhh fuckkk I'm cumming!" You squirted all over his face and on the carpet which would have a suspicious stain on it tomorrow just from how much of your arousal was on it.

"You taste so damn good I could eat it for days at a time. C'mon wrap your legs around my waist I wanna make you feel good again. Scared? Shhh I know it's your first time I promise to take it slow." Terry's voice comforted you as he began to take his own clothes off and the monster between his legs shocked you. Half trusting, you put your legs around his waist and he lifted you up from the chair you were sitting in.

His eyes were peering into your soul, and you were clenching around nothing as he gave you sloppy kisses on the mouth. "You okay with this, baby? I'm gonna slide in real slow, okay?"

"Please just put it in." You said caving into your own desires and he happily obliged as you felt him push into you. He was so deep in this position it nearly knocked the wind out of you, and you took deep breaths so you wouldn't pass out while his dick was inside of you.

"Ohhh you hitting my spot!" You whined as his dick brushed against spots you could never dream of reaching with your own fingers. He was bouncing you on his dick where anybody could walk in and see the two of you. Your arousal was getting tangled up in his pubic hair as he fucked you like it was the last day on earth. Shit would never be the same after this and I think you both knew it.

"Oh, fuck baby get down I want your ass arched up in the air. Mmmm I can hit it so much deeper like that." You did as you were told and the new position, he had you in was indeed deep as fuck. His hand came to wrap around your throat with a firm hold as he began to pound into you. It was like you could feel his dick everywhere with how embedded he was in your guts. "Ohhhh shittttt gonna cum again!" You said as you squirted around his dick forcing him out.

"Goddamn you so fucking nasty. I knew it when I first laid my eyes on you I'm glad I was right. Stick out your tongue I'm gonna cum in your mouth." You looked up at him with your doe brown eyes as his toned body convulsed with an oncoming climax. Cum landed on your tits, tongue and all over your face as he spent himself on you.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Both of you were lying on the ruined carpeted trying to collect yourselves. The clock revealed that you and Terry had been going at it with each other for over three hours straight.

Terry rolled over to look at you, still naked, looking like he could go for another round. The silence was palpable occasionally interrupted by the ticking of the clock on the wall.

"Best damn apology I've ever received in my life."

[merbear25]

For event

Shinji (Bleach) and 14 + 4 (with Reader saying lines, if possible), ty 🫶

Thank you so much for requesting something! I admittedly took inspo from some of the things I struggle with but no specifics were mentioned! I think Shinji would be stubborn enough to handle damn near anything like this in a partner 😭

Your relationship would face many hurdles. That was just how it was with you, regrettably so. After so many having promised their love to you, you were hurt time and time again to the point your battered heart couldn’t accept that there was someone who could withstand it all. Even after you tried pushing him away, trying to prove to yourself that you were right about him - that he would leave you like all the others - he withstood each test and would continue to do so much to your damaged heart’s convictions.

CW: SFW, gn!reader, fluff, hurt/comfort, abandonment issues, established relationship

I’m not going anywhere (Shinji)

Wasn’t there a limit he could take? There must have been. Everyone else had one. The boiling point that scorched every other relationship drove them away just like you knew would happen. But, each time you reached a new low point, he was still there. It hurt in a way you didn’t expect. The support he offered had you beginning to believe this would last, but that was what made it all so painful. When he eventually left, that sense of love would go right out with him.

This was temporary—you told yourself that to prepare for the inevitable that wasn’t coming. Sitting and waiting for what wouldn’t come, a sense of security wrapped around you. However, the unfamiliar trust made you panic, the walls you’d built were crumbling, and you felt completely and utterly exposed.

“Why are you still here? What do you even see in me?” 

The reason behind your lashing out was as clear as day to him. Having spent years withstanding the gale force winds that threatened to shove him out of your life, your patterns and flare-ups were adapted to and bent those harsh winds into a mere gust of a summer breeze. However, this time was different. A final defense against what you feared the most—abandonment.

Flinching wasn’t possible for him, not when the result meant losing all the progress you’d made together. Cool to the point he chilled your flames, he hummed a little to himself as if deep in thought. “Well, there ‘er so many but fer starters yer reliable, loyal, affectionate, funny, sweet,” he went on while counting on his fingers.

You could feel yourself flushing from how effortlessly he listed the qualities you so easily forgot. “And yer even sweeter when yer flustered.”

You turned away from him. Calming the rising tides within your heart was proving to be a trying task. Sitting down, you refused to make eye contact with him. “You really think those are reasons to put up with me?” Even though there were countless fond memories you shared, those moments of you attempting to push him away often deceived you into believing that you did not deserve him.

“Oh, I was just gettin’ started.” He casually leaned on the table, though his expression was rather stern. No matter how many times he tried to assure you that he wasn’t going anywhere, sooner or later you’d convince yourself of the opposite.

“And you’d have me like this? Scars and all?” You could barely look at him. The sting of tears burned your eyes. 

“I actually like yer scars.”

You couldn’t help but laugh a little at that remark. “I’m pretty sure you shouldn’t say that.”

“What can I say? I like what I like.” He shrugged with a faint smile. The longer his eyes held on you, the more he ached to comfort you properly.

Him looking at you with concern playing on his expression made your bottom lip quiver. “Do you have to look at me like that?” The question was choked with the emotion bubbling at the surface.

A soft exhale through his nose was paired with a smile. “And how am I lookin’ at ya?”

His soft voice carried that question to you, though you let it hang in the air for a moment before answering. “You know how.”

He took a step closer and leaned down to get a better look at your now puffy face. “Do ya want me to stop?”

You shook your head, knowing that there was no better comfort than the warm gaze he seemed to only give you. “I just have a hard time accepting it.” In a voice so low the faint embarrassment at not being able to face the fact that someone could care about you was barely audible, and yet he heard it, crystal clear.

Watching you intently, the twitching of your fingers gave away the nerves eating at you. He kneeled down at your side, instantly noticing the trail of a lone tear on your cheek. Though he admittedly wasn’t the best at navigating these waters, his sails never set him astray. Taking your hands in his, there was no stopping the melting of his heart when your eyes met.

“I know ya do,” he whispered, while placing tender kisses along your knuckles. “But ya don’t ever have to worry about it fadin’. Not with me.” Those last words blanketed around you, securing you in ways you were sometimes too cautious towards. The last few kisses were more firm, hoping the passion he held would break the surface of your insecurities one day.

That fear of him leaving just like all the others was slowly being chipped away at. Although there would be instances when the intrusive thoughts would rear their ugly heads to spit their lies that not everything was as it seemed, he would continue proving himself to you. The demons that haunted the inner workings of your mind would be exhausted from the losing battle against his affection towards you, eventually perishing like they deserved. Time was on your side, and he had nothing but that to continue loving you.

[bellaserina]

Childhood Friends 8

A new day. A new excuse to avoid him.

Isabella had spent the morning trying to convince herself that last night didn’t matter. That Charles didn’t matter.

But she wasn’t that good of a liar.

The tension from the dinner still clung to her like second skin, and no matter how many times she replayed their confrontation, the outcome was always the same—she had run, and he had let her.

Again.

That should have been the end of it.

But then Kika called.

And now Isabella found herself sitting at a quiet café in Monaco, watching as Kika stirred her cappuccino, her dark eyes studying her with an intensity that reminded Isabella too much of Pascale.

“So,” Kika said finally, setting her spoon down. “Are you going to tell me why Charles looked like he wanted to punch a wall last night, or should I just assume it was because of you?”

Isabella sighed, sinking deeper into her chair. “Kika—”

“Don’t Kika me,” she interrupted, arching a perfectly shaped brow. “You’re avoiding him.”

Isabella let out a humorless laugh. “That obvious, huh?”

Kika tilted her head. “More than obvious.” She leaned forward, her tone softer. “Isa, you can’t keep doing this. It’s exhausting to watch, and I can’t imagine how exhausting it must be to live.”

Isabella clenched her jaw. “It’s not that simple.”

Kika sighed, shaking her head. “It is, actually. You love him. He loves you. The rest is just noise.”

Isabella looked away, staring at the street beyond the café window. “If it were that simple, we wouldn’t be here.”

Kika studied her for a moment before reaching for her phone.

Isabella frowned. “What are you doing?”

“Solving your problem,” Kika said, typing something.

Isabella’s stomach twisted. “Kika—”

“Too late.” Kika looked up, a satisfied smile on her lips. “He’s on his way.”

Isabella’s heart stopped. “You did not.”

“Oh, I absolutely did.”

She barely had time to process what was happening before the door to the café swung open, and suddenly, there he was.

Charles.

His gaze found hers instantly, something unreadable flickering in his expression.

Kika stood, grabbing her purse. “I’ll leave you two to it.” She kissed Isabella’s cheek before whispering, “Don’t screw this up.”

And then she was gone.

Leaving Isabella alone with the one person she had been trying to avoid.

Charles didn’t move for a long moment. Then, finally, he walked over and took the seat Kika had just vacated.

Silence stretched between them.

He was the first to break it.

“Are you done running?”

Isabella inhaled sharply. “I wasn’t—” She stopped herself, closing her eyes briefly. Lying was useless. Not with him.

Charles leaned forward, his elbows on the table, his green eyes burning into hers. “Talk to me, Isa.”

She swallowed past the lump in her throat. “I don’t know how.”

He exhaled slowly, as if he had been expecting that answer. “Then let me make it easy for you.” His voice was low, careful. “Do you want me?”

Her breath hitched.

“Because I need to know,” he continued, his jaw tight. “I need to know if this—whatever this is—is something you actually want, or if I’m just some ghost from your past you can’t shake.”

Isabella felt her pulse in her throat. “You’re not a ghost.”

“Then what am I?”

She hesitated.

And that was enough.

Charles sat back, a bitter smile tugging at his lips. “That’s what I thought.” He pushed his chair back, standing.

Panic surged in her chest. “Charles—”

“I won’t chase you forever, Isabella.” His voice was quiet but firm. “If you want to run, go ahead. But don’t expect me to be here when you decide to stop.”

He turned to leave.

And just like that, she felt it—the familiar pull of him slipping away.

A part of her wanted to let him go.

But another part—the part that had loved him since they were kids—refused.

So, for the first time in years, she didn’t run.

She stood, reaching for his wrist, stopping him in his tracks.

“Stay.”

It was barely a whisper. A plea.

He turned slowly, his eyes searching hers.

And this time, Isabella didn’t look away.

Charles didn’t move.

Not right away.

His gaze flickered down to where her fingers were wrapped around his wrist, the warmth of her touch sending a jolt through him. It was so small—this moment, this fragile thing between them—but it felt massive. Like it had the power to change everything.

His jaw clenched. “You don’t get to do that, Isa.”

She swallowed hard. “Do what?”

“Pull me back when it’s convenient for you.” His voice was quiet but sharp, each word cutting into her like glass. “You’ve been running for years. And every time I try to move on, you do this.”

She flinched.

Because he was right.

She had spent so long trying to protect herself from him—from the feelings that had been impossible to ignore—that she hadn’t realized how much she had hurt him in the process.

Charles exhaled roughly, shaking his head. “What do you want from me, Isabella?”

She hesitated.

And that was all it took for him to try and pull away again.

But this time, she didn’t let go.

She tightened her grip, stepping closer, her voice barely above a whisper.

“You.”

Charles froze.

The word hung between them, raw and exposed.

His throat bobbed, his entire body tense as he searched her face for any sign of doubt. “Say it again.”

She sucked in a breath, her hands now gripping both of his wrists, like she was afraid he’d disappear if she let go.

“I want you, Charles.”

His eyes darkened, something dangerous flashing across them. “And what happens when it gets hard, hm?” His voice was low, but there was a rough edge to it. “When I piss you off? When you get scared? Do you run again?”

She didn’t know how to answer that.

Because, deep down, she was scared.

But not of him.

Of this.

Of how much he had the power to hurt her.

“I don’t know,” she admitted honestly. “But I’m tired of pretending I don’t want this. Tired of pretending I don’t—” She broke off, her voice shaking.

Charles inhaled sharply, his fingers flexing at his sides. “Don’t what?”

She met his gaze, her heart pounding so loudly she was sure he could hear it.

“Don’t love you.”

Silence.

His expression was unreadable, his body still as stone.

Then—

“Putain,” he muttered, and suddenly, his hands were on her waist, pulling her forward, crashing his lips onto hers like he had been waiting for this moment forever.

Isabella gasped against his mouth, her fingers fisting in his shirt, holding onto him like he was the only thing keeping her grounded.

And maybe he was.

Because the second his lips touched hers, the second she felt the heat of him pressed against her, she knew—

There was no running now.

Not from this.

Not from him.

And, for the first time in years, she didn’t want to.

Next part

[ashes-writing-corner]

Well I was not expecting to update today guys but here we are! A more Ellen centered chapter for this one with the beginning of a confrontation. Will it be another fight, or are these two gonna finally actually talk to each other? Well...find out soon!

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If you'd like to be added to the taglist, as always let me know via comment or DM! without further ado:

Exile: A Nosferatu Fanfic

Chapter 9

I’m not your problem anymore. So who am I offending now?

It would take some time for Ellen to recover some of her energy back. For a time, the world around her felt a bit duller, less colorful, not that there was much to begin with. But even so, things just felt more…oppressive. Like something was wrong, something was broken.

Orlok had mentioned that this was a place of memories. But Ellen also wondered if this too was a place of thoughts, of feelings. Did their surroundings reflect how they felt too? It seemed that way. Ellen got up one morning, at least she thought it was morning, to try exploring the castle some more. Furie, as usual, was by her side. She still felt like a name change for the wolfhound was in order, so she personally took to calling him Ehre, Honor in her mother tongue.

She needed to know what the vampire was so desperate to hide from her. She needed to know why he abandoned her when she needed him. Maybe it was selfish to ask, selfish to know, but it wasn’t fair. Ellen had loved him, in her own way, the only way she knew how. And he had returned that by leaving her alone until she met Thomas.

Then it seemed he only came back to cause problems for them…

Thomas…she hadn’t thought of him since the night of the Shade’s attack. She wondered how he was, what he was doing. Was he okay? Did he miss her? Did he mourn her still? So many questions and yet…no answers to be found. At least not here.

She wondered if there was a way to see him again, to go back to the living world and just…just check on him. Make sure he was okay. There had to be a way. Ghosts and spirits existed, and if this was an afterlife, there had to be a way to escape it, or at least somewhat escape it. Even temporarily.

Ellen was beginning to have her doubts. Maybe she saved the people of her home, saved the world perhaps, but she felt like she did wrong by Thomas. She left him alone, with only memories which could inevitably fade, fragile as memories were. She doubted he’d ever forget the sight of her lying dead with Orlok atop of her though. Ellen knew that would haunt him forever. The guilt he felt would be everlasting, even if it wasn’t his fault.

It was her choice, her decision. But was it the right one? Was saving the world, appealing to her own nature, worth harming the man she loved? Ellen didn’t, couldn’t possibly, know.

Looking around certain rooms and halls, she found things left over from their life together. In her wardrobe were clothes she wore, including her wedding dress and veil. On the bedside table, she found her wedding ring. Her eyes softened at the sight of it, guilt rising in her throat like bile. Ellen gently picked it up, like it was the most precious thing to her. She thanked the higher powers Orlok didn’t seem to know it was there, given his…attitude about her marriage and all things related to it. He would definitely try to destroy it.

Ellen felt the urge to put it back on, just to remember what it felt like. Slowly, she started to slide it on…

“Ah!” she hissed as she felt a burning sensation as the metal touched her finger. In her palm it was fine, but to put it on her finger hurt like nothing before, even though it left no mark.

At her feet, Ehre growled softly. It was like he knew what she was trying to do and didn’t approve. Ellen was not Thomas’ wife anymore. She hadn’t been since he signed that accursed document…

Ellen almost forgot about that. The thought that Orlok would manipulate Thomas to do such a thing angered and upset her. If he had cared about her at all, he would’ve just stayed away. It wasn’t like he cared anymore after he abandoned her. He came back just to torment her…

“Remember how once we were…” he dared to remind her that night, “Remember…just a moment..”.

Oh the thought of that made her blood boil with anger. How dare he try to remind her? How dare he try to stake a claim when he gave her up, and didn’t so much as bother to give her an explanation?! Something he still refused her now! Ellen hated thinking like a child, but it wasn’t fair. She deserved to know what she did wrong. What she did to deserve his abandonment and later torture. He mentioned it wasn’t her fault, but really wasn’t it? What else was she supposed to believe?!

“You don’t hurt someone you love…” he also admitted.

He loved her. At least once he did. Now Ellen wasn’t so sure of his feelings. No doubt Orlok held anger towards her for how their story ended. She had tried to comfort him in those last moments as best she could. She didn’t want him to suffer completely. All he did after all was the same as her: Adhere to his nature.

And one did not blame the wolf for hunting the deer. The wolf did what it needed to do to survive, same as any other living creature. She couldn’t fault him for that, as it wasn’t right.

He admitted his anger was his greatest fault. But what was he angry about? Again, was it something she did? Or did it have to do with something beyond her? Something from before her…

“Mirela…” she said the name aloud, the name from the crypt.

Slowly, Ellen was gathering the pieces. Like a jagged edged, messed up puzzle she was trying to piece it all together. That was the hard part. Without the missing details, the pieces were difficult to put together in one way or another. Did Mirela betray him and he thought she did the same? Did he hate her now, and had projected that hatred on to Ellen, only to leave her when he realized what he was doing? He didn’t seem to care about morals back then, but it seemed he cared about her. He cared enough to realize and stop.

But that didn’t answer her exactly: What inspired his ire so greatly that he felt the need to take it out on her?

Ellen took a breath, set her ring in a drawer and left to find him. She needed answers, and only he had them. And she wasn’t about to leave him alone until he did this time. She needed to know him. Who he was before all of this. Who Mirela was. Who was this woman who inspired his anger and what did she do to him?

Ehre followed behind her, ever her faithful companion, sniffing out his master for her to find. He was in the study, reading some old tome or other. Ellen stood silently in the doorway, watching him. Orlok appeared to be deep in concentration, his two other hounds sleeping peacefully at his feet. She stood tall, and with determination in her voice dared to ask:

“Who was Mirela?”

Orlok turned to her, a brow cocked with a hint of anger in his eye. “Don’t…speak…her…name”.

Ellen didn’t back down. “Who…was…Mirela?”

He stood. “You’re playing with fire, Micul Suflet…”.

“I need to know. Please…I need to know. Because I can’t keep doing this. We can’t keep doing this”.

“Doing what?”

She tilted her head with an expression that said that he knew what she was talking about. “You keep avoiding my questions, or worse lashing out at me. We chose this. We both did, whether we knew it or not. I don’t want to spend my afterlife avoiding stepping on glass around you. This isn't right. It’s not fair for either of us. You don’t trust me and I don’t understand why you don’t”.

The vampire seemed to be taking her words into consideration. He looked thoughtful. If she could just push a little bit more.

“I don’t want this for us. I want us to be honest with each other. If I can’t know anyone else, I want to at least know you. Please…trust me. Tell me the truth: Who was Mirela, and what did she do to you?”

Well I hope you guys liked this! Hopefully this is the start of an understanding between these two...or it could just be another fight? What'll it be? Well, find out in the next chapter ^-^ if you enjoyed please consider commenting, liking and reblogging. You guys are amazing! Thank you so, so much for your support!

[gildedneon]

That Which I Cannot See - Part 3 (Final) - Missing Pieces

Respectfully, you may not use my work, but you are welcome to share it. My work is only intended for those 18 and older as it contains explicit adult themes.

Summary: In this conclusion to our story, things take a more intimate turn and masks may finally come off.

Pairing: Vessel x Fem!Reader 

Tags: Mask play, concealed identity play, exhibitionism (sorta), PDA in public spaces, the shock of this being far more vanilla yet still as spicy as the others.

Word Count: 3.1k

A/N: I ran out of steam with this one. It took a lot of exploration as a writer to find a way to end it and it was a lot of positive growth for me. It might be a little rough around the edges because I really just needed to get it done and not be a perfectionist. Thank you to the concept of Vessel for being such a fun inspiration. Thank you to my real life Kallie for the beta reads and support. Thank you to everyone who has read this, to everyone who has left feedback, it's been so fun.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 2.5 (Bonus Scene) - Complete

Read on Ao3

Another masquerade ball and this time I am not dressed in gold. My dress is velvet, with a simple mask to match. We are at a New Year’s Eve ball, not an avant garde costume party. It’s for charity, I think. Not sure of the specifics. It was much closer to my home than our last excursion. Of course I accepted his invitation. Kallie went on her “casual” rant again. I know she’s probably right, but I'll burn that bridge when I get to it.

He was waiting for me in the hotel lobby, wearing a simple venetian mask, pale skin, no paint, sleek suit, no cloak. Our eyes met for the first time and I… I thought I would be more nervous. Calm washed over me, as he took my hand in his and led me to the waiting car. Just two regular people going to a party. Without games, without pretenses. And wasn’t that a little frightening. That maybe this has turned into something more than just temporary fun. 

Maybe it’s been that way from the start.

I stare out over the railing, looking down at the dance floor below. Vessel returns to my side, stirring me from my thoughts, as he passes me a drink. We gently tap our glasses and I turn to face him. I take a sip. Staring. At everything I haven’t seen before. Like his hair, how weird is it that I didn’t realize I had never seen it? It wasn’t quite what I expected but not in an undesirable way. Just picturing running my hands through it, grabbing it, turns me on. His eyes. There’s a spark of constant curiosity. The planes of his face are no longer hidden. For once he looks… human.

“I’m not used to seeing this much of you. The top of your head to be specific. It’s a good thing… I like it.” He cracks a grin, eyes twinkling.

“Also eye contact. That’s new.” Heat creeps up into my face. His head tilts, his body shifting towards mine.

“Having my eyes bared to you is that arousing?” He teases.

“That’s not it.” I say, rolling my eyes. “It makes me realize everything you’ve seen. The different ways you’ve seen… me.” I try to put it politely, taking a nervous sip. 

“I have seen you many ways.” He rumbles and my face grows hotter. 

“I know you were obviously there with me but it sort of felt like no one was watching and now…”

“Now you can clearly see just who else was watching?”

I nod and take another sip, my mouth suddenly dry. 

“I’ll remind you I did a lot more than just watch.” My eyes widen and I smack at his arm. Laughing, he catches my hand, holding it in his.

“But I understand. It feels different.” His eyes rake down my gown before returning to meet my gaze. Our fingers twine without a thought. 

“There is something now that wasn’t there before.” He says softly. I inhale, forcing the tightness in my chest to loosen. Taking a bigger sip of what is definitely just lemonade with far too much sugar in it, I break our stare to look down at the people dancing. 

“Would you like to dance?” I nod and he leads the way. 

Time flies by as we dance to typical party songs. Never imagined I would be doing the Cha Cha Slide with Vessel. That was not on my bingo card. But boy was it fun to just be normal. The music slows and he pulls me in. With my arms around his neck, we sway along to the song. The tension in my chest returns as his stare turns serious. The way he’s looking at me is… too scary to fully acknowledge. 

Just enjoy the moment.

Turning my head, I rest it against him. But the knot in my chest grows until I can no longer ignore it.

What did he mean by things being different? Why am I so afraid that this isn’t real? Maybe resisting the way I’m feeling is the real thing to be scared of. Maybe talking to myself in my head is the problem and I could just talk to him?

”I believe I am all danced out for the night.” Our swaying comes to a stop.

”Shall we see if we can find someplace quieter?” He asks and I untwine my arms from around his neck. Curling my hand around his offered arm, we set out to explore.

—-----------

He has me giggling like a schoolgirl when we finally turn down an empty hallway. The laughter trails off and his voice takes a more serious tone.

“I enjoy our time together.” His words elicit a little thrill through my chest that I do my best to ignore.

“We’ve certainly had some memorable adventures.” Flashes of me running through a dark garden flit through my memory.

“We have indeed.” I swear I can see his eyebrows wiggle from under his mask. “But it’s more than that. This started as a simple conversation online. It’s grown. I truly enjoy talking with you. Getting to know you. Spending time with you. I’d like to do more of that.”

Holy fuck this is exactly what Kallie was trying to prepare me for. 

“Well I enjoy getting to know you as well. But what do you have in mind exactly?”

”What I have in mind is to make my intentions clear. I would like for our relationship to not just continue, but grow.” Oh okay that’s not so bad. “I would like to pursue something more serious. What are your thoughts?” Shit.

My thoughts freeze along with my body. Focusing on my breathing, I stare at our reflection in the floor length mirror before us. He is looking at me so intently and I am just… standing, silent. 

“Is this not something you would want?” His head tilts expectantly, I can tell his brow is furrowed behind his mask. But I can’t even begin to get my thoughts to form words to respond to him. I’m still just staring. Say something. Start somewhere. Just be honest.

“No I would. I would want it.” I manage to get out.

“Would?”

“I do. I do want it… it’s not that I don’t I just… I’m scared.” I admit. The words come easier when I’m not searching for the perfect way to say something. What a concept. I should try this more often.

“Of what?” He asks in a soft voice. 

“Of admitting that I want this. But what I am more terrified of is losing the opportunity.”

“So what will you choose?”

“Both. I would like that very much and I don’t want to miss the opportunity with you” He presses a kiss to the top of my head and all of the fluttering in my stomach settles into something much more pleasant. “I can do scary things.”

”Well I’m certainly living proof of that.” He says with a wink. “This will just be another form of doing.” That gets a nice laugh out of me. Without the usual getup, he is still an imposing figure  against my smaller frame.

“I did wish we had more time to enjoy that mirror in your hotel bathroom when I last saw you.” His words get my mind turning.

“Well we have this one now…”

“That we do.”

I watch the reflection as his hands run down the sides of my velvet gown, catching at my hips. His nose nudges my ear.

“Are you looking?” Through the mirror, my eyes flicker to his, before darting to where his hands are slowly running down my thighs. The smooth velvet easing his movement. Hooking his fingers, he applies a slight pressure as he drags his hands back up toward the apex of my thighs. The sounds of the distant party sends a thrill running through me, as I am mesmerized, watching and feeling his touch. My body thrums at the sensation, heat pooling in his trail. 

Weary of his slow teasing, I place a hand over his, dragging it up to my breast. His hand flexes under my hold, and my lips part as his touch grows bolder. The cool nose of his mask scrapes against my neck as his lips trail gentle kisses. It’s just the two of us and I want more of it. 

“What do you desire this evening?” My question stops his movement.

“To ensure you have a wonderful time.” 

“Hmm” I can tell his brow is raised from behind his mask as he stares at me intently in the mirror. “You know what sounds like a wonderful time? What if we get out of here? Go back to the hotel. Just us.” A smile graces his face.

“Is that what you would like?” I nod in answer.

“Back to the hotel it is”

With one last kiss pressed against my skin, he wraps an arm around me, pulling me tight against him. His free hand taps against his phone. I feel like I’m floating, and only slightly panicking, as we make our way to the lobby. My best friend Kallie’s voice rings through my head telling me to just fucking let yourself enjoy something for once and I focus on that. Dismissing the ‘what if’s’ as he sits on a plush loveseat, and I sit myself right on his lap. He seems slightly surprised by my choice, but his arms come around me and I melt into his embrace. I enjoy being close to him, maybe that’s something I should share instead of keeping it like some weird secret. God forbid this man knows that I enjoy him. Mentally rolling my eyes at my own convoluted patterns, I pull at the thread, unraveling this habit.

“I like being close to you.” My eyes widen at my honesty as I stare out into the lobby, for just a moment fear of rejection flashes through my chest.

His face comes beside mine. “Being with you is like stepping into sunlight after spending far too long in the shadows.” Hearing the smile in his voice immediately soothes my nerves.

We both turn, making eye contact. Giving in to my whims, I close the distance between us, skating my lips over his. But he doesn’t let me retreat, he follows, chasing my lips in a gentle claim.

—---

We can’t keep our hands off each other on the ride back to the hotel. But to our credit, we did keep our mouths to ourselves. For the most part. 

Hand in hand, we hasten through the lobby, to the elevators. 

Ding!

His arm hooks around my waist, dragging me into the small space. The second the doors close, he takes my face in his hands. Our eyes meet and hold in a heated stare. Brushing through my hair, his fingers find the ribbon of my mask, pulling it free. His eyes track across my face. Here it is. The final piece of my facade, stripped away. And it feels like acceptance as his mouth finds mine again. Exhilarated, I take hold of his lapels and press him back against the elevator wall. There’s a soft clank of my mask hitting the floor. My legs part as he grabs my leg and hitches it across his thigh. He rocks my hips against him. My mind flutters to the hallway at the Halloween ball. The memory causes a flare of heat through my body. Every inch of myself that is pressed against him is begging for friction. His slow, tender kisses are in time with the way he is rocking me against his thigh. But just as that familiar tension builds in my belly, the car comes to a stop. 

Ding!

The doors slide open and I feel like I’m walking on air as he leads me by the hand to his hotel room. Wow this room is a bit of an upgrade from mine. 

“Please no big light!” I plead just as he reaches for the light switch. 

“As you wish.” He laughs. Taking a page from my book, he flips on the bathroom light and cracks the door. I wander over to turn on a lamp in the sitting area. Tossing his suit coat onto a chair, he closes the distance between us and clasps my face in his hands. 

I can hear my heart beating as he stares, taking in my bare face. My heart flutters and the corners of my lips turn up. How did we get here? It feels so right to be sharing myself with him finally. 

“Hi.” I say with a smile.

“Hi” he smiles back, placing a light kiss on my lips. Taking my hand, he leads me to stand in front of large mirrored closet doors. The way he towers over me sends a bolt of arousal through my core. 

Reverently, he strips me of my dress. Left in my lingerie, he sits on the bed, legs splayed. Patting his lap, he then begins to undo the buttons on his dress shirt. Nestled between his legs, I am mesmerized by our reflection in the mirror. Myself in my heels and lacey underwear and him full dressed, mask and all. I decide to put on another show for him. I cup my breasts through the fabric and tease myself. His eyes watch my every move even as his shirt falls open and is thrown to the floor. I remove my shoes and then struggle to reach around him to remove my bra.

“A little help?” A pause and then his hands make quick work of the clasp, my bra falling free to join his shirt. 

Feeling bold I stand, moving to kneel in front of him. Undoing the laces of his shoes, I slip them off. The fabric of his pants is a little scratchy as I run my hands up his legs. Working together we remove those until all that remains is his mask. Standing, I hook the sides of my thong with my thumbs, and make a show of removing them. I settle onto his lap, straddling him. Reaching up, I pause as I grasp the tie for his mask. Our gazes catch and hold with an intensity that tightens my chest.  The nod he gives me is almost imperceivable. But it’s there. Taking a deep breath, I pull the ribbon, discarding the last thing that lies between us. 

Nothing surprises me as I look upon his face. I’ve never seen it before, but it feels like remembering something I once knew. Like Another piece of a puzzle falling into place. 

I cradle his face in my hands and place a kiss on his forehead. His eyes flutter shut. I place another on his nose, and then his lips. The hand on my neck drags me back down. Our mouths clash together in a kiss full of need. His hands slide down to my ass, pulling me flush against him. He swallows my moan at the feel of him hard against me. In a feat of strength, he slides us back on the bed. Pulling me down on top of him as he falls back on his elbows. My body feels like it’s on fire and he is the only salvation. Reaching down I grip his hardness and waste no time lining him up with my entrance. His hand wraps around my wrist, halting my movement. 

“While I cannot wait to be inside you again, I’m afraid I need you to sit on my face.”

“What?”

“Yes you see I’ve always had a mask in the way and now I simply cannot pass on the opportunity.” I’m still somewhat stunned in my lustful haze as his arms hook under my legs and slide me forward. I yelp and throw my arms out, catching myself on the bed. His hands wrap up around my thighs, pulling me down onto him as his tongue swipes against me. At that I am lost. He devours me so slowly that I’m trembling by the time his tongue finally delves inside of me. My moan comes out like a sob. Teaching under me, I tangle my hand in his hair, gripping for leverage as I rock against him. As mind blowing as he’s making me feel, there’s a frustration building inside of me. A want for more. So that is what I ask for. 

“More. Ves please! More!” My prayers are immediately answered. 

Maneuvering me like I’m light as a feather he slides me down his body. He’s propped up on his elbows. Face to face with his cock is pressing into me, teasing. Seizing the opportunity, I rock down against him, taking him until I am fully seated. Our moans mingle in the limited space between our lips. I grab the back of his neck and his chest for purchase as I begin to move. His hands on my hips flex and squeeze before assisting me with my movement. But my slow and steady rocking builds into a greedy pace. With every thrust, he’s striking a spot inside of me that has me chasing bliss. Though it seems as if we’ve just gotten started, I’m racing closer to the edge. I slip my hand between us, giving myself the additional stimulation I so desperately need. His hand slides into my hair, tilting my head until I’m staring into his eyes. The frenzied pleasure is making my head swim and this added eye contact amplifies those feelings. My thighs tremble around his and my pace falters. The tightness built inside of me starts to slip and as if he senses it, he takes control.

Shifting his body, he turns us at an angle. The hand in my hair turns my head to face the mirror that’s now alongside us. 

Where I now watch his hips lift, sliding himself inside of me. God if that image doesn’t make me weak. I practically collapse on top of him and he is more than willing to support me. His arm hooks under my knee, lifting the leg closest to the mirror, hitting a new spot inside of me as he thrusts inside me. It takes everything in me to stay upright as I quiver from the pleasure. My moans are outside of my control. 

“Fuck this is my favorite song. I could hear you sing it all day.” The grit in his voice winds me tighter.

“Ves!” His lips are quick to whisper a different name in my ear. So I oblige, crying out his true name instead. 

My head swims with dizzying pleasure as I come down from my climax. His pace picks up and it’s too much. My body is torn between begging for mercy and begging for more. But his hips thrust once, twice, and then a third time as he shudders his release. Even with my head still dizzy from the pleasure, I can feel that something new has just begun.

[britneyshakespeare]

screw whatever else i've said; the most important thing you can do in this lifetime is watch tv

[irrealisms]

having disabilities that are very sharply stress-triggered is....weird. i am hella privileged and so i can live my life basically entirely supported by others (cf #housecat arc) and when im doing this i can basically pass as normal and not have any serious mental breakdowns* . i hang out with friends and i watch videos and i read books both fiction and nonfiction and i play minecraft and i write stories and i go to church on sundays and it's a boring life and i don't always feel like i'm living it very much but i'm not really in crisis. i feel like, basically normal. like i am basically a regular person. i am no longer freaking out about being watched by a mysterious Them who are tormenting me; i can basically live my life as though it is real; my hallucinations are uncommon and not particularly distressing when they happen; i am not suicidal; outside of occasional episodes of speech loss, i am coherent--articulate, even!--in my speech and writing; it's been many years since my last violent meltdown; i eat three meals a day; i am able to get out of bed every day. and then i try to do productive things for like 3 hours and i start banging my head against the wall and crying because i Can't i just Can't. it's incredibly stark. it's a pretty good justification for being a housecat honestly because if i weren't then i would not only be "losing money to groceries rent etc" i would also be "losing money much more quickly to intensive treatments and/or bad decisions" and i think "losing money more quickly" is the opposite of the goal of "trying to have a job" but definitely uh if i were less privileged wrt Ability to housecat indefinitely i would be Fucked. i deteriorate Terrifyingly Fast under Literally Any Stress.

this isn't a new observation or anything--chat message from august of last year--

It’s kind of eternally astounding to me how much my issues are ~stress-mediated? I can basically be fine and normal-passing if I’m not expected to do anything ever; the amount of breakdown i have correlates pretty directly w how much is expected of me. This feels incredibly fake when I’ve been doing nothing for long enough and think i have gotten better but then i am expected to have pretty basic conversations with people irl for like two weekends in a row and i spend 20 minutes pacing my room and hyperventilating and self harming and i would not be surprised if i end up having a [I stop moving] episode before the weekend is up. and this is not very bad or anything on the scale of things but notably also i am not being expected to do very much!!! Idk it’s weird how like. When I am being a house cat I can be— not maximally fulfilled or anything but basically okay and normal. And then I do things for more than one day and it’s like Oh this is why I housecat. not even in a bad way fully just. huh yeah

and it doesn't even surprise me or feel fake to me at this point but it's weird and i don't like it. i don't like how fast i can go from "i am basically doing fine" to near-crisis when i am expected to do very basic everyday life things. it scares me. i'm getting better but it's hard to tell how much of that is just....redefining my goals and expectations, rather than actually having more abilities. even writing my "i'm basically a normal person when not expected to do things" i kept running up against. like. oh yeah. i don't actually shower/clean myself with any sort of regularly. i don't cook for myself. i spend long stretches of time only changing clothes or leaving the house for church on sundays. i could probably make life changes to do better at some of these things but it's all tradeoffs and idk if it'd be. worth it. i keep coming back to this post bc it really is how i feel. i run into my limits drastically less often than i used to and i am doing much much better. this is mostly because i am living my life so very very carefully within those limits. i am like a delicate orchid who does okay in Ideal Conditions but threatens to die at the slightest hint of overwatering. and i am very lucky to be carefully managed by people who love me immensely and have a lot of resources and many people do not have this and i really do not want to understate this!!! but being a very lucky orchid is still ... very different than being a mint plant

*ok in 2024 i did have a few months where i was actively suicidal and regularly self-harming and not really eating much and having nightmares all the time. um. i don't have a defense here that isn't "you should've seen me before i dropped out" or maybe "okay but it wasn't that long". i didn't have to go to IOP and....i would say "i didn't drop out/get fired from anything major" but that's because i already didn't have any responsibilities cf the rest of the post........ummmmmmmmmmmmmm anyway. i didn't do anything drastic (not exclusively a suicide euphemism) despite considering it. does that count for anything

[sysig]

Challenge level: Impossible (Patreon)

[dayurno]

[johndonneswife]

someone really should be talking about how difficult it is to plan a wedding - a gay wedding - when both of your families fucking suck

[lem-argentum]

^the sillies. 💛

[forcebookish]

one of the things that has me nonstop thinking about topmew is that they're actually a very unique type of couple in fiction but not in real life. in most fiction, people are always falling in love by accident. they meet, circumstances put them together, they're caught by surprise when they fall in love. but though both top and mew had never been in love before and didn't totally know what to expect, it wasn't a complete shock. they met through a mutual friend, they found each other attractive and interesting, so they decided to date. they fell in love because they went on dates and did romantic things together on purpose. i think neither of them expected to fall so hard, but still, the point of dating is to see if you're compatible and fall in love and maybe build a life together. and that's what they did.

i don't think that makes them boring, i think that makes them relatable! i think that makes them stand out from other fictional couples! you know, people claimed they wanted more realistic BLs, but for some reason when topmew came along, a ship based on a real life gay couple, they didn't like them?

[parakeetpark]

Uh oh. Essay in readmore time

What's so frustrating is that for almost all of my life I didn't know I had adhd, and only found it out 5ish years ago

During ALL of my studies i was intensely freaked out and even when i got a grip on some of my mental health shit at uni, importantly I was still unaware of the adhd. And only had some professional tell me about their suspicion about it AFTER I could have received any support in my schooling.

And I have been working damn hard over the last half a decade to learn about myself and the way I work, and be kind to myself and open minded, and learnt from many many different people with adhd how they function - especially through advice on here bc much of Google is shit, and learnt what does and doesn't work for my personally.

I slowly unravelled and found myself. To a point where I'm actually functional and content in myself.

So now i find myself in the most intense, stressful period of my life since then. Grieving and finally understanding what people meant when they spoke about grieving a very close loved one. How nothing feels real even.

And I've found myself so extremely wired from having to do a very vast array of tasks all crammed into a short space of time with a close deadline - exactly the same conditions as during my studies.......... where nothing ever helped.

Yet. In the last thirty minutes I've unwound because I instinctively KNEW what to do. I found myself following all the things i taught myself about my adhd, and now I'm like 70% more chill???? Huh?????? Noticed suddenly that I've been using my ADHD self knowledge for the past few weeks and coped remarkably well because of it.

It's shocking because imagine what i could have done if I had ANY help with my adhd EVER in my life from the adults who were supposed to notice in my entire childhood. Like HUHHHHHH, I am shocked. Imagine how I'm here as an adult using 5 years of learning adhd related advice and stuff I learnt through self awareness .... and feeling better.

SHOCKING!!!!

PS - long ass tags that immediately ramble away from my initial post and go into something positive and that made me feel fluffy inside. You've been warned

[tortademaracuya]

I feel like a thief

[waywardstation]

May I share a small idea?

You could use the poll as some sort of list for some future WIP Wednesdays. The most popular choice is first and then the next in line comes on the next Wednesday when you got the time and so on.

It could save you plenty of time to prepare something and may lessen the pressure a little!

Obviously it’s up to you but I’m leaving the suggestion here for you to think about.

Hope you’re having a good time and remember to stay hydrated and take care of yourself~!

Oh this is a fantastic idea!! I think I will do this!! (Though I am hoping at least three of the options on there will be going up within the next several weeks, all of them are so so close to completion!!)

I will do this though!! Thank you very much for the suggestion friend, it’s a great idea!!

[zemnarihah]

hm. my dad is now aware that i have slept over at eriks when i visit him.