#but I've never been able to do short

[bogkeep]

mannnnnn now that i've actually started medical transition it seems that i will, hopefully, someday, get through to the other side of the limbo tunnel and can hopefully explore more permanent masculine attire. which is as exciting as it is daunting. like, i'm under no illusions that there's a tangible cutoff point where i will Suddenly be out of the limbo state (though top surgery will certainly help if i can get it), and there's no one thing holding me back from exploring this space *now*, but it's. Difficult ,

the List of challenges i must navigate:

- men's fashion is on a surface level very sad and boring and i crave whimsy :( i know knowledge and experience will help but it's like playing on hard mode compared to being a Weird Girl (tm). i am currently gnc against my will and i desire to be gnc Intentionally and on my own terms

- hashtag short king problems. masculine attire was never made with me in mind. almost every time i observe an aspirational example of Men's Fashion it's on a tall lanky guy and that will never be me and that's okay but throw me a bone pleas

- the Autism Sensibilities. collars too close to the neck depletes me of HP. wearing accessories for too long depletes me of mana. if a button up is made of a slightly too stiff material it will give me rashes. i cannot wear binders because i value my ability to breathe comfortably. i can only do so many layers at once before i hit a game over screen. i MUST be comforble

- the restrictions of my circumstances, such as the safety rules of the watchmaker workshop or the mercy of scandinavian weather gods

i'm sure i will figure things out with time. i'm going to need patience. i'm probably going to have to learn how to tailor trousers. i will need to Observe how others dress. but it's so much!! ahh!!!!

[skrunksthatwunk]

why the fuck did i write about birds this fucking sucks. i just found out birds only sleep for a few minutes at a time, hundreds of times a day. do you know what this is going to do to my structure? the logistics of their road trip? this is already like three days late and i've been fighting for my life to get A Plot Like Any Plot That Makes Sense out and now the birds fucking sleep for 5 minutes at a time.

[swiftcast-selene]

Day 29: Favorite Glamour

from practical, to... less so, an adventurer's got to have a rather large wardrobe to suit all occasions.

[moe-broey]

Man. I do love when the character is Scared and fucking MAD ABOUT IT. Going from crying and cowering to snapping and biting the MOMENT a hand is extended to them. Trying to help them or otherwise just work with them somehow and the entire fucking time they're kicking and screaming and complaining and being disparaging and stuck up and just kind of a brat about it. ASSUME HARMFUL INTENT BY DEFAULT, get THEM before they GET YOU‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️ And NEVER trust a helping hand ESPECIALLY when it feeds you.

[shirogane-oushirou]

no promises anymoooooreeeee i'll appear online when i appear online 😭 every time i say "ooh i think life is almost done being overwhelming!" it. becomes even more overwhelming in the dumbest ways. all i can manage rn when i'm not stressing myself into a shut-down state is staring at the wall while listening to youtube essays + mindlessly crocheting.

i might queue up ppls art and fics w/o commentary in the tags... i want other ppl to see what all of my cool friends have made, but i genuinely can't think right now with this monstrous brain fog. i'm really sorry, just. yeah. maybe i'll think of some way to make it up later!!! once the dust has settled!!!! but until then i wuv u and miss u. smiles.

[venting in tags including familial manipulation and ableism. i. didn't mean to write all of that, thiss was originally going to be a main blog post but. aaaaaAAAAAA!!!!!

also no need for replies or anything, i'd turn them off for just the one post if i could kjsndkn, i just needed to get things out and go eep jsjndsfdn ok bye bye bye bye!!!!]

[stillfruit]

i love not knowing if i'll ever be healthy again i love all of the time i've used to move my body become nothing i love spending my adulthood wasting away year after year for various reasons baby!

[deadrlngers]

they should invent shorts that actually fit you

[erraticroses]

...........

[a-really-cool-blog-name]

So I just remembered hearing that spinda had a ton of forms for some reason, so I decided to look up just how many. The answer I got on Google was 4,294,967,296 different patterns not including shiny versions of those patterns! There are probably shiny spindas that have never been caught before! Who was sitting on the team of game freak and thought "Hmmm 🤔 I wonder how many different patterns of a Pokemon I'm allowed to make?" And then actually tried it! I'd be more understanding if they gave it like 60 forms as a joke but 4,294,967,296? Really?

[daisywords]

imagine actually making measurable progress on your wips...finishing them even...works that are no longer 'in progress'

[delyth88]

I love how 'bald' as an option actually makes sense in this one. XD

And reading the comments it looks like there's gonna be a lot of older women having bright funky hair colours when the next couple of generations hit this age, and I love it!

We ask your questions so you don’t have to! Submit your questions to have them posted anonymously as polls.

[musical-chick-13]

Not me...putting all my time into.......a fandom event..............that I didn't even plan to participate in...................................

[matd0]

HELLO HELOO i am. alive. ermm. ok so long story short i am very very tired and unable to do like. anything. :P oof.

here's a toby drawing i completely forgot??? that i did??? like months ago??? found it in my files while looking for any drawings I've actually finished recently and im pretty happy with it so I'm posting it here :''3

honestly i just haven't been happy with anything i've been drawing so only stuff i've done are studies because i want to improve but idk. i feel really self critical. yk how it is being an artist, never feeling happy with your skill level :p i'm working on it though, got pretty into traditional painting for a change? idk i'm trying new stuff to find inspiration. hopefully more art SOON (for sure this time) (idk if i can promise that)

okok health update:

been very very stressed out, basically. got bad again, getting better again?¿? got more help though, so i should be getting therapy maaaybe and help getting back into school, not sure, trying to make something work out. not looking at my phone has been helping

in other news; fall is awesome, love halloween !! birthday is coming up aswell, which is pretty cool 👍👍👍 been hanging out with friends again, which is very nice too. uuuhhhhh the silent hill 2 remake finally came out!!! and it's actually good!!! like really good!!! life has meaning again!!!!

TLDR: I am so very tired. but it will get better, for sure !! just need more time? maybe? in any case, i will be back to post more whenever i am able to. thank you for enjoying my art, it does mean the world to me.

[dreamiie4her]

How i mastered the art of persisting & how yall can too

hello my luvs, lemme tell u, its been a rlly eventful last 2 weeks in terms of me undergo a drastic shift in my mindset and WHEWWWWW, i thought it was time to share with yall

storytime

this past year i told myself i would adopt a strict mental diet where i wouldn't let doubts stop me or anything and lemme tell you, it was such a rocky road. There would be periods of me affirming that i was a master shifter, seek validation from the 3D and then start dwelling in my old state again. This cycle of giving up continued until i came across these posts. I then deeped how i've been overcomplicating manifesting & shifting to the point where i would give up so easily on my new states because "persisting was too hard” when it rlly wasn't. Anyways, lemme share my favourite tips & advice i learnt.

THE ADVICE & TIPS

stop associating emotions w/ states

Once i stopped associating me doubting, being frustrated, etc with my state, i found stuff x10000 EASIER!! I be affirming when i'm sad/frustrated because my emotions do NAWT define me. If something happens in my life, i allow myself to acknowledge it then i affirm on loop that "everything gets better" and the very fact i am a master manifestor.

manifesting will exist whether u like it or not

whenever i feel like "giving up", i remember that no matter if i "give up" on my desires or not, the law of assumption will still operate in the same principle of dominant thoughts materialising ur reality. So that really made me think, why would i not take advantage of knowing about the loa and manifesting everything i want? Like once you find out about the law of assumption, there is no turning back so u might aswell utilise it.

you can never lose your "manifestation powers"

Sometimes i be having thoughts "what if i lose my manifestation powers" and its like?? i will always be able to manifest easily & so will you. You can never "lose" the ability to manifest. Its a LAW. Meaning you will always be able to do it

pick a staple affirmation & loop it no matter what

After utilising robotic affirming, i've felt so much more FULFILLED then i ever did. Trust me when i say, pick one affirmation (e.g. "i am a master shifter") and keep affirming through your doubts, random thoughts, etc. Litreally when you deep it, affirming is basically thinking and thinking is super duper easy. So picking one affirmation and continuously repeating it is so easy even when you feel like your having sm doubts (trust me, once u get in the habit of js affirming, things feel sm easier).

you don't need to believe to manifest

Before some of yall come at me, lemme tell yall something. When i got more serious about the loa this year, i overconsumed a sh!t ton of loa content stating in order to manifest your desires and it made me feel so frustrated whenever i felt doubts/overwhelmed when affirming for my desire. The belief bit will follow natrually while persisting, dont focus on beliving in ur manifestation, keep repeating you have it & your belief of it will feel more natrual as you keep repeating it (if that makes sense)

the 3D isn't the end, keep persisting

I made a post about this but to keep it short & simple, your 3D circumstances aren't permanent. Just because you may be experiencing the opposite of what you want in the 3D, doesn't mean it will stay like that forever and your manifestation "won't work". Keep affirming bb <3

okie that's it for the post <3 i'll probs make a pt2 if i got anymore advice?? but hope yall liked it ;3

[inkskinned]

which is fine, because love is love, and you're getting gay-married, so it would be kind of ironic if love was only sometimes love.

except The King Of Demons (his is Edmund) is always late, to everything, always. which is fair, because time doesn't work in hell, and it's not like he can just catch a bus. except that you specifically asked him not to do this, didn't you, because he's always doing things like this.

He splays out his hands, the light catching on long, ivory claw tips. god, doesn't he know not to wear white to a wedding?

so many people are screaming right now.

it's not that he's the golden child. you guys had normal parents, middle-class. your mom was kind of an "almond mom," according to your fiancée, who pursed their lips when they found out about how your mom used to wrinkle her nose any time you asked for an extra snack in your lunchbox.

you close your eyes for a moment. think of your beautiful almost-spouse. ashe. their name like a bloom inside you. how the dress looks on ashe's body, their shy little smile. how they'd walked down the aisle, and you'd both been half-laughing, half-crying. your hands had trembled when you saw them. like the whole world was pouring down your throat, golden. like you were catching a moment and casting it in amber.

ashe'd been the one to help you when your parents were pushing for you to invite edmund. god, the amount of fights you'd gotten in with your parents - the same six sentiments, over and over again.

you'd been sitting on your bed, biting your lip, your fingers hovering over the little button send. ashe'd nuzzled your neck. you used to be close, and i think that's important. but you know your relationship to him the most. i'm willing to make the effort, and i love you no matter what you choose, they'd said. we don't have to if you don't want to, though, no matter what your parents say about him.

you'd thrown yourself down, supine, arm over the eyes. he's just... we are just.... you tried to phrase that-which-is-love-and-rage.

you're the normal twin. your "big thing" was only "being a lesbian." in high school, edmund started being able to make birds die by looking at them. you came home, trying to tell your parents i kissed a girl. i think i'm - and they just kind of nodded at you. edmund was eating the bible in front of them, like a goat.

on the bed, you'd held your hands out vaguely to ashe. edmund is a just always a lot.

ashe had shrugged. don't invite him then. and it was that - that they were okay with either of your decisions - that is why he even got an invite, in the end.

and now here he is, like how you wanted (?), and your hands are red, clenched hard around your bouquet. the officiant is crying. some people are on their knees, praying. some are trying to touch your brother, like he could impart a blessing.

"i made it!" he's triumphant. "i know i'm late, i'm sorry, there was - do you know anything about right-wing politicians?"

"i'm going to fucking kill him," you say, although you're not actually sure who you're talking to, or if he can be killed.

ashe is blinking, their face in a tiny oh of surprise. you take their hand, drop their hand, take their hand again. they blink at your brother. their voice is low but steady. "there's, um. is there a dark halo around him?"

you duck your head to meet their eyes. "fuck, ashe. i'm sorry. he wasn't supposed to -"

"did i miss it?" Edmund is swinging his head around far-too-wide. his 2 sets of horns leave little red mist any time they scour through the air. "I didn't miss the kiss, right?"

the town clerk is in the audience, and she's frowning. you send her an apologetic look. she shakes her head. "as we've discussed," she manages to throw her gentle voice over the din, "the wedding isn't official if someone objects. that is the legal statute. which people tend to be understanding of." she sends a dirty look to edmund, and that makes you love her. she seems completely calm, which makes sense, because she works in the town hall, and this probably isn't even her first demon-showing-up-at-a-wedding.

he somehow hears her, holds his hands up. "i'm not objecting!" the back of the event hall catches on fire. of-fucking-course. "i'm not - don't mind me, uh, please continue." edmund sends a look to the back-of-the-room fire and it whimpers and gutters out. he flashes you a winning smile, and then puts his hand to his king's-garb chest and mouths sorry! and then cartwheels his glittering talons to say go ahead.

"i think i'm going to throw up." the officiant's voice is barely a whisper.

you watch in horror as edmund tries to awkwardly slide into a waiting line of chairs. the sound of begging follows him, people on their knees at hell's king. he pats a few of them on the head, holding up his finger in a sheepish shh! while his touch leaves a bleeding rune on their skin. his hooves click, and his footprints leave ruby-bright fireroses in his wake.

he tries to sit down, but the wooden chairs are made for people and not the lord king of demons, so he has to span his furred hindquarters over two seats. he smiles again, offers you a little wave.

the room is dead silent, minus the weeping. you look back to ashe. you ruined this. you shouldn't have invited him. you spent so much money on this event, and ashe looks so fucking handsome, and you haven't even gotten to kiss them. to make it official.

ashe looks up at you, manages a little smile. "could be worse?"

you feel yourself start to smile too, but then edmund's chairs give out, and he falls directly on the floor, and with his startled yelp, everything around him bursts into the cold whip-crease of hellflame, disintegrating everything that isn't-a-person, including the flowers and the decorations and the cake and the tables. everything you saved for months to be able to afford. the venue that you both agonized over choosing. you picked this place because it was significant to both of you and was equidistant from both your parents and had a deal with the local hotel for people coming out of town. two years of planning, literally burning down around your ears.

edmund manages to stop the fire pretty much immediately, but it's too late. the officiant faints clear away. the town clerk gives you a sympathetic look and mouths see you soon and steps neatly out of the room, taking ashe's parents with her, chatting gently. an arched flower frame collapses into dust with a loud whoomp. pretty much nobody is left in the building, and you're standing at the top of the steps, at the fucking hour of your marriage, and there is nothing left but blue-cold embers, the lights blown out in favor of the eerie hellfire glow.

you sit down, hard. after a few seconds, you feel ashe sit down next to you. you put your head between your knees so you don't puke with rage, which would be somehow more humiliating than everything else happening at the moment.

"okay, it's definitely too soon," they whisper in your ear, "but i have to admit there is something that's going to be so funny later about my name being ashe and my wedding going up in flames." they wrap their hand in yours. "i can't believe we worried about candles. we should have just gone with them instead of worrying about safety. are you okay?"

you send them a look. "am i - am i okay? this absolute bitch -" you gesture with your free hand out to where edmund is trying to piece together the cinders of his chair, "ruined my fucking wedding."

your mom is standing awkwardly in what used to be the "family" row of chairs. your father is absent, of course. she makes a noise at you. "don't call your brother a bitch."

"oh my fucking god." you have to put your head between your knees again, fighting that stupid fucking rage-puke urge. your blood pressure has obviously reached "skyrocket".

"he's here, isn't he? you're not being particularly grateful," your mother says, because of course she does.

"oh my god! ohmygod. ohmygod." you feel yourself hyperventilating, and then you start laughing, and you hate the hyena hysteria of it, the way it pitches dangerously close to a sob. "this is just - this is just like you! this is the fucking - you blow out the candles on the birthday cake! you curse the kids i'm trying to babysit! you get straight-A's on every test without studying, and get all the friends, and everyone is obsessed with you! and then when i graduate from art school, do i fucking get a party? nope! but hey, let's throw edmund a party for his 300,000th tortured soul! and his 300,001st! and fucking everything else. and fuck me, i guess! edmund gets hurt on the playground, let's burn down the playground. i got fucking bullied, and our parents don't even notice. i am fucking struggling, but we need to pay attention to edmund. he gets fucking everything. while we're at it, why don't we let him fucking ruin my wedding!"

you are dimly aware of ashe wrapping one arm around you and then the other, and then you are sobbing into their shoulder.

"oh, come on. stop with the hysterics," your mother chides you. "you had a perfectly fine childhood. all kids fight. you should have gotten the ceremony done faster. and you know i didn't approve of you spending all this money when you have student loans to -"

"respectfully," ashe's voice is cold and cutting while they rub circles on your shaking back, "and i know you're about to be my mother-in-law, but -" you hear them force a smile, "maybe you could choose this moment to leave your daughter the fuck alone?"

you are so fucking in love with ashe at that moment that it stops your weeping like you got hit by a truck. you look up at them, and want to go back to crying, just overwhelmed by the sheer fucking amount you care about them, but then you look over at your mother, and her shocked expression, and you burst out laughing.

your mother makes a few almost fish-like motions with her mouth, and then turns on her heel, stomping over cinders on her way out. and then it is just you and ashe and edmund and how you are half-crying half-laughing quietly to yourself, like a tap that won't stop dripping.

edmund has put the chair down. he is staring at his hands. he is at least 500 pounds and over 7 feet tall (he doesn't use metric, he's the devil). and somehow, right now, he just looks... small. crestfallen.

"yeah, i mean." his voice cracks. there's no boom of thunder or hellhound echo. he sounds like he did as a kid, before the strange powers and the levitating and the souls of the damned. he sounds like he did the night he accidentally melted most of the pieces in your first glass art show. he sounds - like your brother. he puts the heel of his palm against his eye. "i ruined my sister's wedding."

ashe offers him a little half-grin. "i do just want to say i love the aesthetic, by the way. but you did very much ruin my wedding too."

he points at them, finger-guns. "....ruined their wedding too." something in the attempt at humor - how his voice breaks on the words, how lonely he sounds. it makes you have to close your eyes against the sound. "....you seem cool," he says. "it's... it was nice to meet you."

you hear him come over, his hooves clacking slowly on the floor. when you open your eyes, he's sitting closer to you.

he opens his hand. inside are two little ceramic figures. wedding cake toppers. "i... i made them for you two. i figured i would try - how you make art, without magic. i... i took a class, and i made - i made them." he looks down at the little white-dressed people in his wide, calloused palm. "it's... i wanted to be ... good. i..." he looks at you, and then at ashe. "i tried, you know?"

ashe reaches up, lets him roll the figures into their palm.

he stands up. folds his hands in front of himself. "i don't. know how to be good. i know it doesn't come naturally to you, either. i saw you... choose. to be kind. you could have treated me different, too. like everybody? i was weird, and everyone knew. if you'd been ... mean? it would have been okay. but you." he shrugs. "one time you tried to kill me in the bathroom."

you don't know why you're crying. you look up at him through the cracks between your fingers. "twice," you croak. "but the second time i had a knife." you tuck your hair behind your ears. "but that was only after you pushed me down the stairs at grandma's and i broke my leg before a dance performance. you fuckin' deserved that one."

"i pushed you because you were being a wretched bitch."

"hey now," ashe says, a little edge to their voice, "that's my wife."

you squeeze their hand. "no, he's right. i had deleted his pokemon gold save file right before the elite four."

ashe drops your hand like you scalded them, showing the only horror you've seen this whole time. "you - girl, what the fuck?"

you shrug a little. "i was being a wretched bitch. and he did break my leg about it."

edmund shifts a little. "i just - you are...." his voice dies.

in your family, you don't say i love you. in your family, you don't touch each other or show affection. in your family, you just show up for each other, quietly. neither of you knows how to speak or process what needs to be said. you can see that lacking flashing over his face, literally playing out in shades of crimson. you get that weird twin-sense of something unsaid.

ashe sets the little ceramic people to the side. "she treated you like a person when everyone else treated you like a prophet."

you cut your eyes to them, and then edmund, who gives you one very short, sharp nod. "i, uh. i can. never try." he clears his throat. "i can never try hard enough. for that. i can - what you gave me. by. doing that. by ... just. i made. one thousand. wedding toppers. so it could be perfect. because - i ... it needed to be perfect." he appears to be dying of embarrassment, which does imply he might be capable of dying. oh good. in case i need to try to kill him a third time.

the thought makes a weird, wet laugh bubble out of you. "remember that one time i failed my math test and you set mr. fog's car on fire about it?"

edmund looks shyly at you, and a very small grin spreads across his face. not the dark lord - just a 30-something year old man who has just upset his one-and-only twin.

"you're throwing us the most ostentatious, egregiously expensive wedding," you tell him. "above land."

he frowns a little. "okay, but i'm not doing anything in miami. the vibes there give me the heebie jeebies."

ashe holds up their hand. "and you'll be repaying the deposit on literally everything. oh, and replacing the cake."

you kiss their cheek and then point to him. "and you'll be on time for it."

he shrugs a little. "okay, i literally can't perform miracles, so like. set the bar lower. i can't promise i'll-"

you look down at your feet. "i'd like you to be my man of honor this time. like. by my side. so. you can't be late this time. okay? we do it the right way. finally."

"huh," ashe says, looking between the two of you. "you guys have the same smile."

edmund's grin becomes a little wider, a little easier. he raises an eyebrow at them. "okay, i get that you're cool, but you're like, very cool about this whole thing."

ashe lifts a shoulder. "used to work for the monster under the bed."

"oh shit, simon? fuck." he points to them. "remind me not to mess around with you."

you want to tell edmund i love you and i missed you, but you can't. instead, you pick up the figurines. they're not perfect, but you can tell hours of his life went into each. his hands are so big - it must have taken him so much work to make these things so small. you picture him with his back bent over a workbench, trying to get a face into a tiny clay figure. the ceramic version of you is smiling. he's given you little fangs and a unibrow. he gave ashe a tiny yellow crown. you make the two figures kiss.

snow is falling indoors, little icicles of hellfire. ashe reaches out and take edmund's hand, and then, very awkwardly, he reaches out and takes yours too.

for a moment, it's just the three of you, and the beautiful quiet of the room.

You’re standing at the altar, about to get married to your beautiful fiancée. When suddenly the king of demons bursts through the door of the room, which naturally causes panic. You tried to warn everyone that inviting your sibling to the wedding would mean trouble, but they kept insisting.

[judyvan]

No Hands - Chris Sturniolo Fanfic

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Summary: After picking on Chris for being an extremely touchy person, the two of you make a bet. Will Chris be able to control himself long enough to win?

Warnings: MDNI/ smut/ chrisxfem!reader/ bf!chris/ unprotected p n v (use a fucking rubber)/ oral (fem receiving)/ touchy! chris x needy! reader/ competitive! chris/ use of "you"/couldn't tell ya how many words

A/N: Time for a Chris fanfic! I am still new to writing, so bear with me. The song loosely relates to the fic. Interactions are appreciated! Pls don't steal my shit. Thx!💋

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"Keep your filthy fucking paws off of me," Nick says pushing his brother, Chris, away from him. Chris had wrapped his arm around Nick's shoulders as the two of them spoke.

Your boyfriend Chris is probably the most physically affectionate person that you know. He is always eager to touch those he cares about the most. Whenever it comes to you, Chris loses all self-control. He needs to be touching you in some way at all times; like he'll go insane without the feeling of your body against his in some way, shape, or form.

"You have got to be the touchiest motherfucker that I know, seriously," Nick continues, dusting the remanence of Chris' hands off of his shoulders.

"Shut up," Chris chuckles, pushing Nick backwards.

Nick looks up shocked. His eyes move back and forth from yours and Matt's, Nick and Chris' other brother. You and Matt begin to laugh uncontrollably.

"Please tell me you two fucking see this. I mean this is absurd! Even when I ask him not to touch me, he touches me. It's crazy!" Nick states completely dumbfounded.

Chris is laughing along with you and Matt. He begins to walk towards Matt, reaching out to grab his arm as he loses control of his body.

"Don't bring that shit over here," Matt says out of breath, wiping the tears from his eyes, failing to reel himself in.

Chris looks at you through squinted eyes. You simply open your arms as he walks towards you. He knew that you wouldn't turn down his touch. Chris stands in front of you, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his head in the crook of your neck, laughing profusely into your skin.

"Can we please talk about this?!" Nick begins, still completely shocked. "I have never seen anything like this. Like he actually needs to be studied. He has always been "touchy feely", but ever since he got a girlfriend, it has multiplied by a gabillion." The room is still filled with the laughter of Chris and Matt, yours no longer producing noise.

"I mean seriously, I feel so bad for you. I can guarantee that you never get a fucking second to just breathe!" Nick exclaims.

You somehow manage to catch your breath and gain composure.

"It doesn't bother me. I've gotten used to it," you reply, rubbing your hand up and down Chris' back, attempting to calm him down.

Nick releases a scoff, letting you know that he doesn't believe you.

"Anyways, back to what I was saying," Nick begins shaking his head. He's looking at you, the only one stable enough to understand him. "Me and Matt are going to the store; do you want us to get you guys anything; besides some fucking giggle juice?"

"No, I think that's all we need," you reply, letting out a small laugh. Your whole body is now shaking at the intensity of Chris' reaction to Nick's last statement.

"Alright, we will be back in a few hours," Nick says, practically dragging Matt out of the door, him and Chris continuing to crack up.

The door shuts and Chris is eventually able to control himself. He pulls his head out of your neck and looks in your eyes, a huge grin spread across his face.

"Let's go to my room and find something to do until they get back," Chris says, his fingers running up and down your sides. You meet his lips with a short peck.

"I've got something in mind," you say smirking at him.

The two of you walk to Chris' room, holding hands of course. You have been trying to convince Chris to watch all of your favorite movies and now is the perfect time to start. Chris turns on the movie, "Five Feet Apart," and the two of you lay in his bed. As the film goes on, you can't help but think about what Nick was saying earlier. You are now very observant of how often Chris asks for a kiss or squeezes you tighter. When he gets up out of bed to grab a drink, you begin to laugh out loud at your own thoughts. Chris comes back into the room as you're laughing uncontrollably, trying to think of any moment he has spent any amount of time without physical contact.

"What the fuck is so funny?" Chris asks, taking a sip of his Pepsi as he stands in his doorway.

You swing your legs over the side of the bed to face your boyfriend.

"I was just thinking about what Nick was saying. I genuinely cannot think of a time that you went 5 minutes without touching me," you say.

Chris smirks and shakes his head. He begins to walk closer to you.

"Do you really think that I touch you a lot?" he asks, taking another drink.

"What do you mean think? You can't keep your hands off of me," you let out a small laugh.

"Yes, I can," Chris states in a cocky manner. "You touch me just as much as I touch you." He sits his drink down and gives you a smug look, stepping closer to you.

"Fine then. Let's make a deal. Until Nick and Matt get back, we have to keep our hands to ourselves. You can't touch me, and I won't touch you," you flick your brow up as you propose the idea to Chris.

"And why would I do that?" he says, laughing at your playfulness.

“To prove a point.”

Chris looks around the room for a second, thinking about what you said.

“How about we make this a little bit harder, since Nick and Matt aren't here,” he says, an arrogant look on his face. Chris bends down to whisper in your ear. “How about I do some things that make it harder for both of us to keep our hands off of each other.”

He then places an open-mouthed kiss to the spot right behind your ear. He tugs lightly on the bottom of your earlobe before pulling away. The combination of his warm breath, wet kiss, and teeth pulling on your skin, sends a feeling of arousal throughout your body. Chris looks at you with a shit-eating grin on his face, clearly able to see what he's doing to you.

"And why would I that?" you say, mocking him. Chris' eyes trail up and down your body, not missing a single curve.

"If I win, I get to touch you anywhere I want, wherever I want, anytime I want for a week, and you don't get to say shit to me about it." Chris runs his tongue across his bottom lip as he finishes his sentence. Just the thought of having any part of you at his fingertips whenever he pleased made him grow hard.

"And if I win," you start, noticing the tent forming at the crotch of his pants, " I get to wear as little as I want, whenever I want, and you can look all you want, but you can't touch, for a week." You smile up at Chris, seeing him picture you in the smallest article of clothing in his head.

"I think you've got yourself a deal," Chris says, moving even closer to you.

You lift off of the bed slightly, sliding your hands underneath of your ass, pressing them into the bed. Chris places his hands on the bed, one on either side of your hips. Your lips connect almost immediately, the two of you aching to touch now that you can't. The kiss is deep and passionate, the both of you long for more. You remove your hands from underneath you, pulling off the shirt and pants you're wearing. Chris' lips leave yours and meet your collarbone without hesitation. His hungry kisses across your skin deepen your desire for him to touch you. Chris has seen you in a bra and underwear plenty of times. Removing your clothes doesn't seem to faze him much.

"This is too easy," you say, a smile spreading across your face. Your hands reach behind your back and unbuckle your bra. You drop it on the floor, scoot away from Chris, and lay down on the bed.

Chris stands up completely. His eyes roam over your entire body, lingering on your breasts. Lacking a good poker face, Chris' expression confirmed that you just made things 10 times harder for him, in multiple different ways. He tugs at his bottom lip as he soaks in the amount of skin you have exposed.

"That's not fair," he laughs, his eyes touching every part of your figure that his hands should be feeling.

Chris removes all of his clothes, only leaving his boxers. Your eyes trail over his body. Your eyes widen when you see the bulge in his underwear. A small chuckle escapes Chris' lips at your face. His eyes never leave yours as he removes his underwear seductively, his entire body now on display.

"Now we're even," he says. Chris moves across the room and climbs on top of you, careful to keep both of his hands on the bed.

The air chills your uncovered body. Chris' lips only momentarily heating the areas that they touch. It isn't enough. You need his hands on you. Messy kisses are placed all around your frame as he travels down you. After reaching the waist band of your underwear, Chris moves directly to your inner thighs, devouring them. Your hips begin to buck upwards, wanting his mouth on the place covered by soaked fabric.

"Take them off," Chris says placing a single gentle peck to the front of your underwear.

You shake your head while biting your lip. You earnestly wanted his hands on you and refused to help him out any longer.

"You do it," you said, your heart racing.

"I'm not losing this bet," he responds placing a gentle kiss to either side of your pelvic bone. Suddenly, his tongue slides under the left side wing of your underwear. He pinches the material between his teeth and slides one side of your underwear down to your thigh. He slowly moves to the right side of your body and performs the same motion. His intention is to draw this process out as long as he can, hoping you'll cave. Tongue, bite, pull, switch. Tongue, bite, pull, switch. As soon as one side reaches your ankle, you begin to shake them off yourself, flinging them into the floor.

"Someone's impatient," Chris smiles. He knows you won't last much longer.

His head dives between your legs, his tongue licking up the need that is dripping from you. You let out a whimper, gripping onto the bed sheets, miserably trying to keep your hands busy. Chris' tongue splits you in half as his nose applies pressure to your clit. He begins to speed up his motion, his tongue now forming small circles around your most sensitive area. Your legs begin to squeeze inward, Chris' head between them acting as a magnet. You can't help but squirm, the intense feeling of pleasure taking over your body. All of your movement is making it difficult for Chris. He is unable hold your legs down, forcing them to stay put.

"If you don't stop moving, I'm going to have to stop," he says, momentarily pulling his lips off of you.

Your moans get louder as Chris proceeds to eat you out. Your legs begin to shake as you attempt to keep from moving, not wanting him to quit. His tongue slips inside of your opening. Your back arches off of the bed. He begins to eat you as sloppily as he can, wanting more than just his tongue to be inside of you. Your toes start to curl. He begins to shake his head back and forth, his tongue flicking in all directions, only stopping to suck on your ball of nerves. You cling onto the sheets for dear life. You're starting to get close. Don't do it. Your hands lose their hold on the bedsheets and find themselves in Chris' hair as you practically levitate off of the bed.

"Oh fuck!" you scream, on the edge of release.

Chris pulls away from you. You did touch him after all. Suddenly his eyes meet yours from in between your legs. His thumb brushes over his lips, gathering all of your remnants before sucking them off of his skin.

"I win," he says with a cocky smirk.

In a swift motion, Chris grabs your leg and throws it over his shoulder, plunging himself inside of you, burying his dick as deep in your walls as possible. As he thrusts in and out of you frantically, his hands touch every part of your body, making up for lost time. The two of you moan loudly at the feeling of him touching you inside and out. It doesn't take long before your stomach clenches and you reach your orgasm, Chris' warm cum coating your insides at the same time. As the two of you ride out your high, your hands continue to feel every part of each other. Chris slumps on top of you, wrapping his arms around you, and burying his face in your chest. Your arms embrace him, pulling him closer. After a few moments of relishing the feeling of you both on top of one another, Chris leaves your body to grab a towel and pull on his clothes. As he cleans you up, he makes sure to touch you in every way he can. He throws the towel on the floor and grabs your clothes, insisting on dressing you as well. He starts with your underwear and pants, wanting to see you topless as long as possible. Before putting your bra back on, he takes your breasts in both of his hands and squeezes, kissing you tenderly.

"You better get used to that," he says, pulling away from your mouth and sliding your bra on. "I've got a whole 7 days to do that whenever I want."

For the next week, Chris took as much advantage of his prize as possible. When meeting up with his family he would hug you as long and hard as he could. When around his brothers at home, he would palm your ass with both hands, squeezing roughly and kissing you with passion. Even when hanging out in public settings with your friend group, you would find at least one of his hands wandering from your thigh and meeting the sweet spot in between your legs.

｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

To see how Chris takes advantage of him reward in more detail, click here to read: 7 Days (“No Hands” Extension)