#pm regimen

[ccsainzleclerc5516]

So Obviously In Love

Pairing: Lando Norris x reader

Warnings: a little bit of smut

Lando knew he was in love with you for a very long time. It didn't even take him long to admit it to himself, but to you?

It took him ages.

One of the problems was that your last name was Fewtrell and that pretty much explains it all.

But even though it took him a long time to tell you outright that he was madly in love with you, he didn't try to hide it much. In fact, he was too obvious with his actions.

Besides the fact that he started spending more time with you than with your brother, or his best friend to be exact, a lot of big little things happened that gave him away.

Like that one time he called you for the first time to check if you got home safely.

You just got back from Lando's after spending almost the entire afternoon at his place and you're pretty tired, ready for bed. Your eyes are slowly closing, but you know you still have to take a shower, so you decide not to procrastinate and get to work. Just as you were about to leave your phone on the kitchen counter and head for the bathroom, it starts buzzing in your hands. Caller ID showing Lan. You must have forgotten something at his apartment, you think to yourself because it wouldn't be the first time. "What did I leave now?" You sigh answering the phone. "Nothing this time, don't worry." He chuckles. "What's up then?" You ask, a little confused considering you were together just half an hour ago. "Just wanted to make sure you got home safely" He says. "I know you said you were tired and you wouldn't let me drive you." Your heart warms at his caring words and you find yourself smiling as you fiddle with the car keys. "Safe and sound, Lan" "Good, good." He really doesn't want to end the conversation, but he knows you just got back from him, so he pauses for a second before continuing. "Alright, well, I'll talk to you in the morning then. Sleep tight." "You too, Lan. Good night.”

Or the way he gives you the last bite even though it's his cheat day

Lando is always on a special, healthy and clean eating regimen because his job simply requires it. Every now and then, once a month, he lets off steam and eats whatever his heart desires. Today was one of those days. Lando had been talking about burgers all week. He was craving a big, fat burger with lots of fries on the side. He was standing behind the kitchen island finishing his burger when you entered the kitchen. "Whatcha doin'?" You asked hopping onto the kitchen island, your eyes following the last bits of the burger. He didn't say anything, not wanting to speak with his mouth full, he just pointed to the burger and made the most satisfying face ever. "Ugh, it looks so good..I've been so hungry all day, I've been going full vacuum mode on everything edible.." You whined putting your hand over your tummy. "Are you pms-ing?" Lando asked and you nodded frowning. "Here, you can finish it if you want to." He offered without much hesitation. "No, you finish it, it's your cheat day. I’ve already eaten way too much today, one more bite and I might explode." "No, come on. I want you to have it. I'm already full anyway." He lied. He could have eaten at least one more burger like that. "But it's your last bite..the best one" You said as he put it into your hands.

He took a kitchen towel and wiped his mouth with it before grabbing his bottle of water and heading back towards the gaming room.

"There's some more junk food and pistachio ice cream in the fridge. Take that with you when you go home."

Or that one time everyone went crazy when Lando's hand wandered onto your thigh on the stream.

When they heard that you were also there, in Lando's apartment, the fans shifted all their attention from him to you. They were calling your name in the chat and pestering Lando to get you on camera. He actually secretly loved the way his fans loved you. "Y/n?" He shouted taking the headphones off. "Yeah?" You shouted back from his living room. "Could you come here for a sec, please?" He asked and soon you appeared walking into the room. "Chat really wants to say hi to you." "Oh, hi guys. How are you?" You smiled as you leaned forward slightly to see what they were typing. Lando’s gaze softened looking at you interacting with them. His smile only grew bigger as he started to read the compliments and funny things they were saying to you. Lost in the moment, Lando got carried away reading the comments and unconsciously placed his hand on the back of your thigh, gently squeezing it. Of course, it took the chat a full two seconds to notice it and go crazy over it. "Okay, that's enough of y/n for you for today." Lando quickly removed his hand and changed the subject, thinking you hadn't noticed the placement of it. But of course you did.

You hated skiing. You hated it because you didn't know how to ski. You tried, but it was a complete, almost fatal, disaster, to say the least. Every time Lando and Max went skiing, you wouldn't go with them, and seeing how dangerous it could be for you, you didn't even have the desire to learn.

But that one time, Lando did everything he could to convince you to go with them. He succeeded, by the way. He even managed to convince you that you didn't need an instructor, but that he would teach you how to ski, using it as an excuse to be as close to you as possible.

"If I break my leg you'll be the one to blame just so you know." You whine while trying to get your foot into the ski boot. "Y/n, stop grumbling and push your foot a little harder." Lando said trying to help you put your boot on. "I c-can't, it's too freaking tight-ugh!" "Take me by the shoulders and just stand up and your foot will fit inside." You put your hands on his shoulders and just as you were about to do what he told you, something suddenly took hold of you and you burst out laughing. This whole situation was becoming too ridiculous for you, the way you were struggling with those stupid boots and the excessive amount of clothes that restricted your movement, you felt as if you were about to go crazy. "Y/n, get serious, come on." Lando warned you while still holding onto your boot, but he couldn't help but start laughing at you too. You leaned towards him, still laughing like a madman, resting your forehead on his shoulder trying to calm yourself. Lando turned his face towards yours, the tip of his nose brushing against your cheek as his eyes darted to your lips. "Alright, that’s enough, you muppet! Let's get that boot on your foot before night falls." When it was time to take the T-bar lift uphill, you froze. It seemed so simple watching others do it with ease, but you just didn't feel confident enough to do it by yourself. "Lando, I can't do it on my own..I'm afraid I'll fall and-" You panicked when it was your turn. "Hey, hey, hey it's okay. I'll do it with you." He took the bar in his hands and placed it between the two of you behind your legs. As the T-bar lift jerked forward, you grabbed on, holding for dear life, hoping you wouldn’t faceplant halfway up the slope. Lando noticed and chuckled wrapping his arm around you and pulling you closer to him so you feel safer. "It's okay, I got you. Just trust me"

And finally that time after he had already confessed to you that he fell for you, you came to his place and thought you would talk about how nothing could happen between you because of Max.

But that didn't go the way you planned it.

You thought about having a conversation with him, but halfway through he started unbuttoning your shirt slowly nodding his head and pretending to listen to you. "Lan..I'm serious and you're n-not listening.." You struggled to pronounce without moaning. "I'm listening, keep talking" He quietly urged you to continue as he started kissing your neck. His hands wandering beneath your shirt making your head fall back. Your concentration was long gone when his fingers found your zipper. "Lando..." You whimper as his fingers move your panties to the side. "What, baby? Want me to stop?" "No, please, don't stop"

Lando could never resist you. He's always been so obviously, madly, deeply in love with you.

[ghstyles]

11:59 PM | H.S

Boyfriendrry | Smut | One shot | Prince hair Harry | Masterlist

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[I'm thinking about taking you into one of those private rooms upstairs.

Pushing that dress up around your waist.

Seeing if those new black panties taste as good as they look. ]

a/n: this one was fun to write. It’s just hot. Enjoy!!

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“Harry? How long do you think you can go without sex?”

Harry's attention is fixed on the TV screen, where some gritty crime drama is playing, one of those shows he claims to watch for the "compelling storytelling," but Y/N suspects he mostly enjoys for the moody cinematography and expensive production design. He's sprawled comfortably on their couch, one arm draped along the back cushions behind her, legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles on the coffee table. A half-empty bowl of popcorn sits forgotten between them.

At her unexpected question, his hand pauses midway to his mouth, a piece of popcorn held between his fingers. He turns toward her slowly, one eyebrow arched in amused curiosity, a hint of wariness in his green eyes.

"Sorry, what was that?" he asks, as if he might have misheard her over the sound of the detective on screen delivering his monologue about the darkness inherent in human nature.

Y/N shifts slightly to face him better, tucking one leg underneath her and propping her elbow on the back of the couch. She's wearing one of his old tour t-shirts and a pair of sleep shorts, her hair piled back in a bun that's gradually coming undone. There's something deliberately casual in her posture that doesn't quite match the gleam in her eyes.

"I asked how long you think you could go without sex," she repeats, her tone conversational but with an undercurrent of mischief.

Harry studies her face for a moment, clearly trying to determine if this is a trap of some kind or if there's a specific reason for her inquiry. He reaches for the remote and pauses the show, giving her his full attention now.

"Is this a hypothetical question," he asks carefully, "or are you telling me something I should be worried about?"

A small smile plays at the corners of Y/N's mouth.

"Hypothetical," she assures him. "Just curious."

Harry leans back against the cushions, considering the question with more seriousness than she perhaps expected. He runs a hand through his hair, pushing it back from his forehead in that unconscious gesture she's always found endlessly attractive.

"Physically? Probably a while," he finally answers, his voice thoughtful. "Mentally?" A slow, suggestive smile spreads across his face as his eyes travel deliberately down her body and back up again. "About three days before I'd start losing my mind."

He shifts closer to her on the couch, the popcorn bowl now an unwelcome barrier between them.

"Why the sudden interest in my sexual endurance?" he asks, reaching out to twirl a loose strand of her hair around his finger. "Planning to test me or something?"

Y/N shrugs, maintaining her innocent expression despite the way her pulse quickens at his proximity.

"Just thinking about that interview you did last week," she explains. "The one where they asked about your 'self-discipline' and you said you were 'surprisingly good at denying yourself things you want.'"

Harry's eyes narrow slightly as he recalls the interview, a fairly standard press junket for his latest album where the journalist had been fishing for quotes about his fitness regimen and diet.

"Ah," he says, understanding dawning. "And you found that claim...questionable?"

"Not questionable," Y/N corrects him, her fingers absently playing with the hem of her borrowed shirt. "Just...untested. In certain areas."

A dangerous glint appears in Harry's eyes as he moves the popcorn bowl to the coffee table, eliminating the barrier between them. He slides closer until their thighs are touching, his hand coming to rest casually, possessively, on her knee.

"Let me get this straight," he says, his voice dropping to that low, slightly raspy register that never fails to send a shiver down her spine. "You're wondering if I could practice sexual self-restraint for an extended period? If I could deny myself...certain pleasures?"

His fingers trace small, maddening circles on her bare skin just above her knee.

"Something like that," Y/N confirms, fighting to keep her voice steady despite the heat beginning to pool low in her belly at his touch.

Harry's smile turns predatory, dimples appearing in sharp relief against the slight stubble on his cheeks.

"And what brought on this line of questioning?" he asks, his hand sliding up to rest on her thigh, thumb brushing dangerously close to the hem of her shorts. "Academic curiosity? Or did you have something more...practical in mind?"

Y/N tilts her head, enjoying the way his eyes follow the movement, tracking the exposed line of her neck with unmistakable hunger.

"Maybe I was thinking we could make a little wager," she suggests, her tone deliberately light. "Test that famous self-discipline of yours."

Harry's eyebrows shoot up, genuine intrigue replacing some of the playful seduction in his expression.

"A wager?" he repeats, clearly interested. "What kind of stakes are we talking about, love?"

Y/N pretends to consider this, tapping her finger against her chin thoughtfully.

"Well, if you win, if you can go, say, two weeks without sex, then I'll..." she leans forward and whispers something in his ear, something that causes his pupils to dilate noticeably and his hand to tighten on her thigh.

"Jesus," he mutters when she pulls back, swallowing hard. "And if I lose?"

"If you lose," Y/N continues, emboldened by his reaction, "you have to admit publicly, in your next interview, that you have absolutely no self-discipline whatsoever when it comes to certain...appetites."

Harry barks out a laugh, genuinely amused by her suggested terms.

"You want me to tell Rolling Stone or whoever that I can't keep it in my pants?" he asks, shaking his head in disbelief. "My publicist would have a coronary."

"You wouldn't have to be that explicit," Y/N clarifies, her eyes dancing with mischief. "Just say something about how your girlfriend proved your claims of self-restraint were greatly exaggerated."

Harry studies her face, his expression a mixture of amusement, desire, and competitive interest.

"Two weeks, huh?" he muses, his thumb resuming its maddening circles on her thigh. "No sex of any kind?"

"None," Y/N confirms firmly. "No intercourse, no oral, no hands, nothing. Complete abstinence."

Harry's eyes narrow thoughtfully.

"And this starts...?"

"Right now," Y/N declares with a decisive nod.

A slow smile spreads across Harry's face as he considers the challenge. He leans in closer, his breath warm against her ear.

"You realize," he murmurs, his voice a low rumble that she feels more than hears, "that you're also denying yourself for two weeks. You sure you can handle that, baby?"

There's a note of challenge in his voice that makes Y/N's competitive spirit flare to match his own.

"Oh, I'll be fine," she assures him with perhaps more confidence than she actually feels. "I'm not the one who claimed to have exceptional self-discipline in a national publication."

Harry laughs, the sound rich and warm in the quiet of their living room.

"Alright then," he agrees, extending his hand for a formal shake. "Two weeks, starting now. No sex of any kind."

Y/N takes his hand, but instead of shaking it, Harry uses the grip to pull her forward suddenly, catching her off guard. In one fluid movement, he has her beneath him on the couch, his body pressing hers into the cushions as he captures her mouth in a kiss that is anything but chaste.

His tongue traces the seam of her lips, demanding entry that she grants without hesitation, heat flaring instantly between them. One of his hands tangles in her hair, the other gripping her hip as he deepens the kiss with a thoroughness that leaves her breathless. When he finally pulls back, they're both breathing heavily, and Y/N can feel the hard evidence of his arousal pressed against her thigh.

"Just wanted one last taste," he explains with a wicked grin, his voice rough with desire. "To remember what I'm missing."

Before she can respond, he pushes himself up and off her completely, returning to his side of the couch with deliberate casualness, though the flush on his cheeks and the darkness of his eyes betray his affected nonchalance.

He picks up the remote, unpausing the show as if nothing had happened, though his smirk gives him away.

"Two weeks starts now," he announces, reaching for the popcorn bowl again. "Hope you know what you've gotten yourself into, love."

Y/N sits up, adjusting her shirt where it's ridden up to expose a strip of her midriff, trying to regulate her breathing and ignore the persistent throb of arousal his kiss has left her with.

"I think the question is whether you know what you've gotten yourself into," she counters, settling back against the cushions with forced composure.

Harry just smiles, his eyes still on the TV screen, though she can tell he's not really watching.

"Game on, baby," he says quietly, and the simple phrase manages to sound like both a promise and a threat.

Y/N turns her attention back to the show, acutely aware of the two weeks stretching ahead of them and the man beside her who has never been good at denying himself, or her, anything they both want. As challenges go, she's beginning to think this one might be harder than she anticipated...for both of them.

But as Harry's hand finds hers on the couch between them, giving it a gentle squeeze that somehow manages to be both affectionate and suggestive, Y/N can't help but think that win or lose, the next two weeks are going to be very interesting indeed.

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Day 13 finds Y/N in the master bathroom, carefully applying mascara while silently cursing herself for what has become thirteen days of exquisite torture. The bet that had seemed so amusing, so winnable, thirteen days ago has evolved into a test of willpower that's fraying her last nerve.

She caps the mascara tube with more force than necessary, setting it down on the marble countertop with a sharp click. Her reflection stares back at her: hair styled in loose waves, makeup subtle but enhancing, wearing nothing but a matching set of black lace underwear that Harry hasn't seen yet. She's getting ready for a gala they're attending tonight, a high-profile event that will have photographers, industry executives, and other celebrities, the perfect venue for Harry to be on his best behavior.

Which is precisely why she's chosen tonight to wear her most dangerously low-cut dress.

The past thirteen days have been an escalating game of chicken, with both of them finding increasingly creative ways to test the other's resolve without technically breaking the rules of their agreement. No sex of any kind, but as it turns out, there's a vast territory of torment that falls just short of that definition.

Harry started subtly: walking around shirtless more often than usual, "accidentally" brushing against her in the kitchen, letting his gaze linger a beat too long when she emerged from the shower. But by day five, subtlety had been abandoned. He began describing in explicit detail what he planned to do to her when the two weeks were up, his voice dropping to that gravelly register that never fails to make her thighs clench. He'd taken to sitting unnecessarily close during movies, his fingers tracing innocent-seeming patterns on her arm or leg that somehow felt more erotic than a direct touch ever could.

Y/N had retaliated in kind. She wore his favorite shirts to bed, and nothing else. She made inappropriate noises while eating ice cream. She "stretched" in ways that highlighted her flexibility, reminding him of positions they'd enjoyed in the past. Once, she'd even read passages from an erotic novel aloud, claiming she was "just sharing literature" when he'd nearly broken the arm of the sofa gripping it so hard.

But despite her best efforts, Harry has maintained a maddening level of control. Oh, she's gotten to him, the evidence of his arousal has been impossible to miss on multiple occasions, but he hasn't cracked. Hasn't begged. Hasn't suggested they call the whole thing off. Instead, he's matched her provocation for provocation, escalation for escalation, all while maintaining that infuriating smirk that says he knows exactly what game they're playing and he intends to win.

The most frustrating part is that Y/N is starting to think he might.

She's been climbing the walls for days now, hyperaware of his every movement, his scent, the sound of his voice. Last night, she'd actually woken from an explicit dream about him so worked up that she'd seriously considered waking him to concede defeat. Only pride had stopped her, pride and the knowledge that Harry would be impossibly smug about it for months.

The bathroom door opens, startling her from her thoughts, and Harry appears in the doorway. He's already dressed for the gala, looking devastatingly handsome in a bespoke black suit that fits him so perfectly it might as well be painted on. His hair is styled back from his face, several rings adorn his fingers, and he's wearing a subtle cologne that makes Y/N want to bury her face in his neck.

"Almost ready?" he asks, his eyes traveling over her state of undress with deliberate slowness. "Car will be here in twenty."

Y/N turns to face him fully, leaning back against the counter in a pose that emphasizes her lace-clad curves.

"Almost," she confirms, watching his Adam's apple bob as he swallows. "Just need to put on my dress."

Harry's eyes darken as they linger on the black lace covering her breasts, the matching underwear that sits low on her hips.

"New?" he asks, his voice slightly rougher than it was a moment ago.

Y/N nods, running her fingers along the lace edge of her bra in a gesture that's obviously adjusting but is actually pure provocation.

"Thought I'd treat myself," she says with affected casualness. "Do you like it?"

Harry's jaw tightens visibly, his knuckles whitening where he grips the doorframe.

"It's nice," he manages, the understatement of the century given the heat in his gaze. "Very...appropriate for a charity event."

Y/N laughs softly, pushing off from the counter and moving toward him, toward the bedroom where her dress is laid out on the bed.

"The dress is appropriate," she corrects him, stopping when she's close enough that he can smell her perfume but not quite touching. "This is just for later."

The implication hangs in the air between them: later, when the bet is over, when the two weeks have passed and all restrictions are lifted. Tomorrow marks the end of their agreement, and they both know it.

Harry's eyes never leave hers as he steps aside to let her pass, but not quite far enough that she can avoid brushing against him. The brief contact sends a jolt through Y/N that's almost embarrassing in its intensity.

In the bedroom, her dress waits on the bed: a floor-length black gown with a slit that reaches mid-thigh and a neckline that plunges daringly low. It's elegant enough for the event but designed specifically to drive Harry to distraction.

She's aware of him watching as she steps into it, pulling it up over her hips and adjusting it over her chest. The fabric clings in all the right places, the cut revealing just enough skin to be tantalizing without crossing into inappropriate territory.

"Zip me?" she asks innocently, turning her back to him and gathering her hair to one side.

There's a pause, just long enough for her to wonder if he'll refuse, before she feels him move behind her. His fingers brush the bare skin of her back as he takes hold of the zipper, and Y/N has to bite her lip to suppress a shiver.

Harry pulls the zipper up with deliberate slowness, his knuckles grazing her spine inch by torturous inch. When he reaches the top, his hands settle briefly on her shoulders, warm and solid.

"You look stunning," he murmurs, his breath tickling the sensitive skin just below her ear.

Y/N turns to face him, finding him closer than she expected, close enough that she can see the various shades of green in his irises, the slight dilation of his pupils.

"Thank you," she says, her voice softer than she intended. "So do you."

For a moment, they just stand there, the air between them charged with thirteen days of built-up tension and wanting. Y/N finds herself swaying slightly toward him, drawn by the magnetic pull that's always existed between them but seems exponentially stronger now.

Harry's gaze drops to her lips, and she thinks, hopes, that he might kiss her. It wouldn't break their agreement; kissing wasn't explicitly banned. But before either of them can move, the doorbell chimes downstairs, their driver, right on time.

Harry steps back, clearing his throat and adjusting his jacket.

"We should go," he says, his voice rougher than usual. "Don't want to be late."

Y/N nods, reaching for her clutch on the dresser and taking a moment to compose herself. When she turns back to him, she's wearing a smile that she hopes conceals just how close she was to throwing the entire bet out the window.

"One more day," she reminds him as they head downstairs, her tone deliberately light. "Think you can make it?"

Harry glances at her, a slow smile spreading across his face that's equal parts challenge and promise.

"I'm not the one who needs to worry about making it," he counters, his hand coming to rest on the small of her back as they reach the front door, a touch that's perfectly appropriate but somehow feels like a brand through the thin fabric of her dress. "You've been watching the clock since day ten."

Y/N scoffs, even as she acknowledges the truth of his statement.

"I've been perfectly fine," she lies, stepping outside into the cool evening air. "You're the one who took three cold showers yesterday."

Harry laughs, the sound low and knowing as he guides her toward the waiting car.

"Four, actually," he admits without a trace of embarrassment. "But who's counting?"

As they slide into the backseat of the sleek black car, Y/N is acutely aware of the minimal space between them, of Harry's cologne filling the enclosed space, of the fact that they have an entire evening of public appearances ahead before they can return home.

One more day. Twenty-four more hours. She can do this.

But as Harry's hand finds hers in the darkness of the car, his thumb tracing small circles on her palm in a gesture that's somehow both comforting and maddeningly erotic, Y/N isn't entirely sure which of them is winning anymore, or if either of them is.

What she does know is that tomorrow can't come soon enough.

---

The charity gala is being held at one of London's most prestigious hotels, the grand ballroom transformed into a glittering wonderland of lights, flowers, and champagne. The moment they arrive, they're swept into the social current: photographers calling Harry's name, industry acquaintances stopping to chat, waiters offering flutes of champagne and delicate hors d'oeuvres.

Harry is, as always, the consummate professional, charming, attentive, generous with his time and attention. His hand rarely leaves the small of Y/N's back, a possessive touch that both grounds her in the chaos of the event and serves as a constant reminder of the tension simmering between them.

Two hours in, Y/N excuses herself to visit the ladies' room, needing a moment away from the constant press of bodies and the even more distracting presence of Harry at her side. She's just finished touching up her lipstick when her phone buzzes with a text.

It's from Harry: You've been gone for 7 minutes. Starting to think you're avoiding me.

Y/N smiles despite herself, typing back: Just fixing my makeup. Why, missing me already?

His response comes immediately: Always. But especially when you're wearing that dress.

She's about to reply when another text appears: The things I'm thinking about doing to you right now would definitely get me uninvited from future charity events.

Heat blooms in Y/N's cheeks as she reads his words. She knows she should ignore the bait, continuing this line of conversation will only make the evening more torturous for both of them, but she can't resist.

Care to elaborate? she types back, her heart rate accelerating slightly.

There's a pause before his response appears, long enough that she thinks perhaps he's been pulled into another conversation. Then her phone buzzes three times in quick succession:

I'm thinking about taking you into one of those private rooms upstairs.

Pushing that dress up around your waist.

Seeing if those new black panties taste as good as they look.

Y/N inhales sharply, her fingers tightening around her phone. The crude directness of his words, so at odds with the polished, charming persona he's presenting to the gala attendees, sends a jolt of arousal straight through her.

She takes a moment to compose herself before responding: 13 days and 22 hours. Still think you're going to win this bet?

His reply is immediate: I know I am. You're the one who's going to break, baby. I can see it in your eyes every time I touch you.

The confidence in his text both irritates and excites her. Y/N checks her reflection once more, ensuring her composure is intact, before heading back to the ballroom.

She spots Harry immediately, he's always easy to find in a crowd, his height and presence drawing the eye naturally. He's engaged in conversation with an older couple, but his attention shifts the moment she enters his field of vision. Their eyes lock across the room, and the heat in his gaze makes her breath catch.

Y/N makes her way toward him, accepting a fresh glass of champagne from a passing waiter. As she approaches, Harry excuses himself from his conversation and meets her halfway.

"Everything alright?" he asks, his public voice polite and concerned, though his eyes tell a different story.

"Perfect," Y/N assures him, taking a deliberate sip of her champagne. "Just needed a moment."

Harry nods, his hand finding its customary place at the small of her back.

"They're about to start the speeches," he informs her, guiding her toward their assigned table near the front of the room. "Should only be about forty minutes of people thanking other people for giving them money."

Y/N laughs softly at his irreverent summary, allowing him to pull out her chair before he takes his seat beside her. As they settle in for the speeches, his hand drops casually to her knee beneath the table, a touch that could be interpreted as purely affectionate to anyone watching.

But then his fingers begin to trace small, maddening patterns on her skin just above the knee, occasionally venturing to the sensitive area where her thigh meets the edge of the table. It's not high enough to be inappropriate, but it's distracting enough that Y/N finds it difficult to focus on the speaker who has taken the stage.

Two can play at this game, she decides, placing her hand on Harry's thigh in what appears to be a similar gesture of affection. She feels him tense slightly beside her, but he doesn't remove his hand from her knee.

Slowly, deliberately, Y/N allows her fingers to drift higher on his leg, her touch light but insistent. She keeps her expression neutral, her eyes fixed on the stage as if completely absorbed in the speech about fundraising goals and community impact.

Harry shifts in his chair, his own hand tightening slightly on her knee. When she chances a glance at him, his profile is composed, but there's a muscle working in his jaw that betrays his affected calm.

The speeches drag on, becoming a backdrop to their silent battle of wills beneath the pristine white tablecloth. By the time the final speaker concludes to polite applause, Y/N's skin feels too tight, too sensitive, and she's hyperaware of every point of contact between her body and Harry's.

As the formal portion of the evening transitions to dancing and more socializing, Harry leans close to her ear, his voice low enough that only she can hear.

"Enjoying yourself?" he asks, and the double meaning is unmistakable.

"Immensely," Y/N lies, turning her head so that their faces are inches apart. "The speeches were very...inspiring."

Harry's lips quirk in a knowing half-smile.

"Dance with me," he says, and it's not quite a request.

Before she can respond, he's standing and offering his hand, leaving her little choice but to accept or cause a scene. Y/N places her hand in his, allowing him to lead her to the dance floor where other couples are already swaying to the live band's rendition of a classic ballad.

Harry pulls her close, closer than is strictly necessary for a formal event, but not so close that anyone would raise an eyebrow. One hand settles at her waist while the other clasps hers, his thumb stroking rhythmically across her knuckles as they begin to move to the music.

"You've been driving me crazy all night," he murmurs, his lips brushing the shell of her ear in a way that sends shivers down her spine. "That dress should be illegal."

"That was rather the point," Y/N admits, her free hand resting on his shoulder, feeling the solid warmth of him through the expensive fabric of his suit. "Is it working?"

Harry's hand tightens fractionally at her waist, drawing her a centimeter closer.

"What do you think?" he counters, and there's an edge to his voice that wasn't there before. "I've been hard since you walked out of the bathroom at home."

The crude admission, delivered in his smooth, cultured voice while they dance among London's elite, sends a fresh wave of heat through Y/N. She misses a step, and Harry uses the momentary stumble as an excuse to steady her, his hand sliding from her waist to the small of her back, pressing her more firmly against him.

The evidence of his arousal is unmistakable, and Y/N has to bite her lip to suppress a gasp.

"Thirteen days and counting," Harry reminds her, his voice a low rumble that she feels more than hears over the music. "Think you can last one more?"

It's a challenge, one that pride demands she meet, even as every nerve ending in her body screams for relief.

"I'm not the one making confessions on the dance floor," she points out, striving for a lightness she doesn't feel. "Sounds like you might be the one struggling."

Harry's laugh is soft and knowing against her hair.

"Oh, I'm definitely struggling," he admits freely. "But I'm also definitely going to win."

The song ends before Y/N can formulate a suitably cutting response, and they're forced to separate as the band transitions to a more upbeat number. Harry keeps her hand in his as they move off the dance floor, his thumb still tracing those maddening circles against her skin.

"Drink?" he offers, nodding toward the bar.

Y/N nods, using the moment to try to regain some equilibrium. As they wait for their drinks, she becomes aware of someone calling Harry's name, a record executive, she thinks, though she's met so many industry people over the years that they sometimes blur together.

Harry greets the man warmly, introducing Y/N with his customary courtesy. The conversation quickly turns to music, to Harry's latest album, to potential collaborations and tour dates. It's the kind of networking that's essential at events like these, and Harry handles it with practiced ease, keeping Y/N included in the conversation even as he discusses business.

But even as he talks about production schedules and studio time, his hand never leaves her, resting on her back, brushing her arm, finding her hand. Each touch feels deliberate, designed to keep her in a constant state of awareness, of wanting.

By the time they finally extricate themselves from the conversation, it's approaching midnight, and Y/N is at the end of her patience.

"I think I'm ready to go," she says quietly as they move through the now-thinning crowd. "It's been a long night."

Harry studies her face for a moment, his eyes searching hers with an intensity that makes her wonder if he can read the real reason behind her suggestion.

"Of course," he agrees, already reaching for his phone to text their driver. "We've made our appearance. Done our bit for charity."

The wait for their car feels interminable, filled with polite goodbyes to acquaintances and last-minute conversations that Harry can't gracefully avoid. By the time they finally slide into the backseat of their waiting car, Y/N's nerves are stretched to the breaking point.

The privacy partition is up, separating them from the driver, a small mercy for which Y/N is profoundly grateful as Harry's hand immediately finds her thigh, his fingers tracing the edge of the slit in her dress.

"Thirteen days," he says quietly, his voice rough with want. "Thirteen fucking days of watching you, wanting you, not being able to touch you the way I need to."

His hand slides higher, pushing the fabric of her dress aside to expose more of her leg, his fingers warm against her skin.

"Tomorrow," Y/N reminds him, her voice not as steady as she'd like it to be. "Just one more hour."

Harry's eyes are dark in the dimly lit car, his expression intense as he watches her reaction to his touch.

"One more hour," he repeats, his fingers tracing the edge of her underwear where it sits against her thigh. "Think you can make it that long, baby? Because right now, you look like you're about five seconds from begging me fuck you in the backseat of this car."

The crude words, delivered in his smooth voice, make Y/N's breath catch. She's wet, has been for hours, if she's honest, and the ache between her thighs is almost painful in its intensity.

"I'm not the one who's going to break," she insists, even as she shifts slightly, unconsciously seeking more pressure from his teasing fingers. "I've got excellent self-control."

Harry laughs softly, the sound dark and knowing.

"Is that right?" he challenges, his fingers dipping beneath the lace edge of her underwear, not quite touching where she's aching for him but close enough that she can feel the heat of his skin. "Because from where I'm sitting, it looks like you're about to come apart just from this."

Y/N swallows hard, fighting against the urge to press herself into his hand, to beg him to touch her properly, bet be damned.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" she manages, her voice breathier than she'd prefer. "For me to break first."

"I'd like to make you come," Harry corrects her, his voice dropping to a near-whisper as he leans closer. "I'd like to slide these expensive panties to the side and feel how wet you are for me. I'd like to watch your face when you fall apart around my fingers."

His words paint such a vivid picture that Y/N has to close her eyes briefly, gathering what remains of her willpower.

"Tomorrow," she says again, more firmly this time, placing her hand over his to still his maddening touch. "You've waited this long. What's a few more hours?"

For a moment, she thinks he might ignore her, might continue his delicious torment until she either gives in or pushes him away. But then Harry withdraws his hand, a rueful smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

"Tomorrow it is," he agrees, though his eyes still burn with unmistakable desire. "But just so we're clear, the moment it hits midnight, all bets are off."

The promise in his voice sends a fresh wave of heat through Y/N, and she finds herself checking the time on her phone: 11:33 PM. Less than thirty minutes until day fourteen officially begins.

The rest of the drive passes in charged silence, both of them acutely aware of the countdown happening in their heads. When they finally arrive home, it's 11:52 PM, eight minutes to go.

Harry helps her from the car, his hand lingering on hers as they make their way to the front door. Inside, the house is quiet, the only sound the soft click of the door closing behind them and the faint ticking of the antique clock in the hallway.

"Drink?" Harry offers, his voice carefully casual as he shrugs out of his suit jacket, draping it over the back of a chair.

Y/N shakes her head, kicking off her uncomfortable heels with a sigh of relief.

"I think I'll just head up," she says, equally casual. "It's been a long night."

Harry nods, his eyes never leaving hers as she moves toward the stairs. There's a tension in the air between them, thick enough that she could cut it with a knife, the knowledge that in less than seven minutes, their self-imposed restriction will lift, and all the desire they've been suppressing for two weeks will be free to explode.

"I'll be up in a bit," he says, loosening his tie with deliberate slowness, his eyes dark with promise. "Just going to pour myself a nightcap first."

Harry watches Y/N ascend the stairs with predatory intensity, his fingers pausing mid-motion on his tie as she disappears from view. The grandfather clock in the hallway chimes once, marking the time, 11:55 PM. Five minutes until midnight. Five minutes until their agreement officially expires.

He moves to the bar cart in the living room, pouring a finger of whiskey into a crystal tumbler with deliberate slowness. The amber liquid catches the light as he swirls it, mirroring the heat that's been building inside him for thirteen excruciating days.

Taking a small sip, he savors the burn, letting it match the fire in his veins. From upstairs comes the faint sound of movement, and Harry's imagination fills in the blanks: Y/N removing that torturous dress, her skin finally free from the confines of fabric that has been both concealing and accentuating her body all evening.

He checks his watch again, 11:56 PM.

Loosening his tie further, Harry takes another sip of whiskey before setting the glass down on the marble countertop. He's about to head upstairs when he notices something on the first step, a flash of black against the pale carpet.

It's Y/N's dress, discarded carelessly at the foot of the stairs.

A slow smile spreads across Harry's face as he approaches, picking up the expensive garment and draping it over his arm. Looking up, he discovers more items leading up the staircase like breadcrumbs: one of her earrings on the third step, its partner on the fifth, her clutch purse on the landing.

Harry begins to climb, collecting each item as he goes. The trail continues down the hallway, her bracelet here, her necklace there. By the time he reaches their bedroom door, his arms are full of her belongings, and his blood is running hot with anticipation.

Then he sees it, the final piece of her ensemble, hanging provocatively from the doorknob like a flag of surrender: those black lace panties that have been driving him to distraction since he first glimpsed them in the bathroom hours ago.

Harry checks his watch again, 11:57 PM. Three minutes.

He takes the underwear from the doorknob, the delicate fabric warm from her body and still carrying her scent. For a moment, he simply holds them, his control fraying at the edges as he imagines how she looked wearing them, how she looked taking them off.

With a deep breath, he pushes the bedroom door open.

The sight that greets him nearly stops his heart.

Y/N is stretched across their bed, completely naked except for the black lace bra that matches the panties now clutched in his hand. Her hair spills across the pillows, her eyes dark with desire as they meet his. She's positioned herself deliberately, one leg straight, the other bent slightly at the knee, creating a silhouette that emphasizes the curves of her body in the warm glow of the bedside lamps.

For a long moment, Harry simply stands in the doorway, drinking in the vision before him. Thirteen days of restraint, of torturous near-misses and deliberate teasing, have honed his desire to a razor's edge. She's never looked more beautiful to him than she does right now, waiting for him, wanting him, challenging him with the directness of her gaze.

"You've made quite a mess," he finally says, his voice rough as he gestures to the collection of discarded clothing and jewelry in his arms. He sets everything down on the dresser, careful with her dress but less so with the rest, his attention already returning to her. "Leaving your things all over the house."

Y/N shifts slightly on the bed, the movement causing the light to play across her skin in a way that makes Harry's mouth go dry.

"I was in a hurry," she replies, her voice carrying a hint of breathiness that betrays her affected casualness. "Besides, you found them all, didn't you?"

Harry's lips curve into a smile that's equal parts amusement and hunger as he begins to unbutton his shirt, his movements unhurried despite the urgency thrumming through his veins.

"I did," he confirms, shrugging the shirt from his shoulders to reveal the toned expanse of his tattooed chest and abdomen. "Including these."

He holds up her panties, dangling them from one finger before tossing them aside to join the growing pile of discarded clothing.

"It seemed like the most efficient way to get your attention," Y/N admits, her eyes following the movement of his hands as he unfastens his belt, pulling it through the loops of his trousers with a soft hiss of leather against fabric.

"You've had my attention from the moment I met you," Harry counters, his voice dropping lower as he steps closer to the bed, still in his trousers but bare-chested now, the dim light accentuating the definition of his muscles and the dark lines of his tattoos. "You've had my undivided attention for thirteen days and twenty-three hours."

He checks his watch again, 11:58 PM. Two minutes.

Y/N follows his glance, her lips curving into a knowing smile.

"Still counting down?" she asks, sitting up slightly, the movement causing her breasts to shift enticingly beneath the black lace of her bra.

"To the second," Harry confirms, his eyes darkening as they trace over her body. "Two minutes until I can touch you the way I've been dying to for two weeks."

He moves to the edge of the bed, close enough that Y/N can feel the heat radiating from his skin, but he doesn't touch her, not yet. Instead, he stands there, looking down at her with an intensity that makes her breath catch.

"Unless," he continues, his voice dropping to a near-whisper, "you want to admit defeat now."

It's a challenge, one last attempt to win their ridiculous bet, but they both know it doesn't really matter anymore. The anticipation has become its own form of foreplay, the countdown adding an edge to their desire that makes the eventual release all the more explosive.

Y/N laughs softly, the sound slightly breathless as she shakes her head.

"One minute and thirty seconds," she counters, glancing at the clock on the bedside table. "I think I can wait."

Harry's smile is slow and deliberate, a promise of what's to come.

"Can you?" he asks, reaching out to trace one finger along the edge of her bra, not quite touching her skin but close enough that she can feel the heat of him. "Because from here, it looks like you're already desperate for it."

Y/N's breath hitches at the near-touch, her body responding to his proximity with a wave of heat that she couldn't suppress if she tried.

"You're one to talk," she retorts, her eyes dropping pointedly to the visible evidence of his arousal straining against his trousers. "You haven't exactly been the picture of restraint yourself."

Harry chuckles, the sound low and dangerous as he moves onto the bed, positioning himself above her without letting their bodies touch, a feat of control that costs him visibly in the tension of his muscles, the tightness of his jaw.

"One minute," he murmurs, his face inches from hers, close enough that she can feel his breath on her lips. "One minute until I make you forget your own name."

The crude promise sends a fresh wave of arousal through Y/N, and she has to fight the urge to close the distance between them, to pull him down on top of her and end this torturous game once and for all.

"Big talk," she manages, her voice not quite steady as his eyes bore into hers. "Let's see if you can deliver."

Harry's laugh is soft and knowing.

"Oh, baby," he breathes, his lips brushing against her ear in a touch so light it might be imagined, "I've been planning exactly how I'm going to fuck you for thirteen days straight. Trust me, I'll deliver."

The clock on the nightstand shows 11:59 PM. One minute.

They both watch the seconds tick by, the air between them charged with anticipation so thick it's almost difficult to breathe. Harry remains poised above her, their bodies separated by mere inches of electrically charged space, neither willing to be the first to break.

The digital display changes: 12:00 AM.

For a heartbeat, neither moves, and then Harry's control snaps with an almost audible crack.

His mouth crashes down on hers with bruising intensity, thirteen days of pent-up desire unleashed in a kiss that's more claiming than caress. Y/N responds instantly, her arms wrapping around his neck to pull him closer, her body arching up to press against his with desperate need.

"Fucking finally," Harry growls against her lips, his hands everywhere at once, tangling in her hair, cupping her breast through the lace of her bra, sliding down to grip her hip with possessive force. "Do you have any idea what you've been doing to me? Two weeks of watching you, wanting you, not being able to touch you..."

His words dissolve into another kiss, this one deeper, wetter, his tongue sliding against hers in a rhythm that mimics what they both desperately want. Y/N moans into his mouth, her nails digging into his shoulders as she pulls him fully on top of her, reveling in the weight of him, the heat of his skin against hers.

"Show me," she gasps when they break apart for air, her eyes dark with challenge and desire. "Show me exactly what I've been doing to you."

Harry's eyes flash dangerously, his hands moving to the clasp of her bra with practiced efficiency.

"Oh, I plan to," he promises, stripping the lace from her body and tossing it aside, his gaze hungry as it rakes over her newly exposed flesh. "I'm going to show you exactly what happens when you tease me for two fucking weeks straight."

His mouth descends to her breast, taking one nipple between his lips and sucking hard enough to make Y/N cry out, her back arching off the bed. His hand finds her other breast, kneading and pinching with just the right amount of pressure to walk the line between pleasure and pain.

"Harry," she gasps, her hands sliding into his hair, holding him to her as he lavishes attention on her sensitive flesh. "Please, "

"Please what?" he murmurs against her skin, his teeth grazing her nipple in a way that sends sparks shooting down her spine. "Tell me what you want, baby. Tell me what you've been thinking about for the past two weeks."

Y/N is beyond pride now, beyond the teasing game they've been playing. Thirteen days of buildup have left her desperate, aching, wet enough that she can feel it on her thighs.

"Your mouth," she admits, her voice breaking as his hand slides down her stomach, his fingers tracing patterns on her skin that edge closer and closer to where she needs him most. "I want your mouth on me."

Harry's smile is wicked as he raises his head to meet her gaze, his eyes dark with desire and triumph.

"Where exactly do you want my mouth, Y/N?" he asks, deliberately obtuse as his fingers dance along the crease where her thigh meets her hip. "Here? Or here?"

He presses a kiss to her collarbone, then lower, to the valley between her breasts.

"Lower," Y/N breathes, beyond embarrassment, beyond anything but the desperate need for release after thirteen days of exquisite torture.

Harry continues his downward path, pressing open-mouthed kisses to her sternum, her ribs, the sensitive skin just below her navel. Each touch of his lips sends fresh waves of heat through her body, building the tension to nearly unbearable levels.

"Here?" he asks, his breath hot against her hip bone as he settles between her thighs, his shoulders pushing her legs wider apart.

"Harry," Y/N groans, frustration and need making her voice sharper than intended. "Stop teasing."

His laugh is dark and satisfied against her skin.

"But teasing is what you do best, isn't it?" he counters, his hands gripping her thighs firmly, holding her open for him. "Isn't that what the past two weeks have been about? Seeing how far you could push me before I snapped?"

Before she can formulate a response, he finally,  finally, puts his mouth where she's been aching for it, his tongue flat against her center in a long, deliberate stroke that has her crying out, her hips bucking against his hold.

"Fuck," Harry groans against her, the vibration adding another layer to the sensation. "You're so fucking wet. Have you been like this all night? Sitting next to me at that fancy dinner, your pretty pussy dripping while you pretended everything was fine?"

The crude words, delivered in his cultured voice, send another jolt of arousal through Y/N. She's always been affected by his filthy mouth, the contrast between his public persona and the raw, unfiltered way he speaks to her in bed is intoxicating.

"Yes," she admits, beyond shame, beyond anything but honesty as his tongue circles her clit with deliberate pressure. "All night. All week."

Harry hums his approval, the sound reverberating against her most sensitive flesh as he settles into a rhythm designed to drive her mad, alternating between broad strokes of his tongue and focused attention on her clit, occasionally dipping lower to tease at her entrance without ever giving her what she truly needs.

Y/N's hands find his hair, fingers tangling in the soft strands as she tries to guide him where she wants him most, but Harry resists, maintaining control even as he pleasures her.

"Harry, please," she gasps, her thighs trembling with the effort of staying open for him as the pressure builds to almost unbearable levels. "I need, I need, "

"What do you need, baby?" he murmurs against her, his eyes dark with desire as he looks up the length of her body, taking in the flush spreading across her chest, the desperation in her expression. "Tell me."

"Your fingers," Y/N manages, her voice breaking as his tongue flicks against her clit with just enough pressure to make her see stars. "Inside. Please."

Harry's smile is wolfish as he slides one long finger into her, groaning at the way she clenches around him immediately.

"So tight," he murmurs, adding a second finger alongside the first, curling them in a way that makes Y/N's back arch off the bed. "Is this what you wanted? My fingers inside this pretty pussy while I suck on your clit?"

To emphasize his point, he wraps his lips around the sensitive bundle of nerves, sucking gently as his fingers continue their relentless rhythm inside her.

The dual sensation is overwhelming after so long without release, and Y/N feels herself hurtling toward the edge with embarrassing speed. Her thighs begin to shake, her breathing becoming erratic as the pressure builds to an almost painful intensity.

"That's it," Harry encourages, his voice rough with his own arousal as he watches her come apart beneath him. "Let go, baby. Show me how much you've missed this."

His fingers curl more firmly against that spot inside her that he knows drives her wild, his tongue flicking rapidly against her clit, and Y/N shatters with a cry that might be his name or might be just a wordless sound of release. Her body convulses around his fingers, waves of pleasure washing over her with an intensity that leaves her gasping, her vision momentarily whiting out at the edges.

Harry works her through it, gentling his touch but not stopping completely until her tremors subside and she collapses boneless against the mattress, her chest heaving with exertion.

"Beautiful," he murmurs, pressing one last kiss to her oversensitive flesh before moving up her body, his expression a mixture of satisfaction and barely restrained hunger. "Absolutely fucking beautiful."

Y/N reaches for him with still-trembling hands, pulling him down for a kiss that tastes of herself and desire. She can feel him hard against her thigh, still confined within his trousers but unmistakably ready.

"Your turn," she breathes against his lips, her hands moving between them to unfasten his remaining clothing. "I want to feel you inside me."

Harry groans, helping her push his trousers and underwear down his legs before kicking them off entirely, leaving him finally, gloriously naked against her. The first press of skin against skin is electric, drawing matching gasps from both of them as thirteen days of anticipation culminate in this moment.

"How do you want me?" Y/N asks, her voice husky with lingering pleasure and renewed desire as she wraps her hand around his length, stroking him with deliberate slowness.

Harry's eyes darken at her touch, his hips jerking involuntarily into her grip.

"Every fucking way imaginable," he growls, capturing her wrist to still her movements before he loses what remains of his control. "But right now, I need to be inside you. Need to feel you come around my cock."

He positions himself between her thighs, the blunt head of his erection pressing against her entrance, teasing but not yet pushing inside. His eyes lock with hers, intense and questioning despite the crude directness of his words, always checking, always making sure she's with him.

"Yes," Y/N breathes, wrapping her legs around his waist to pull him closer, urging him on. "Please, Harry, I need you."

It's all the permission he needs. With one smooth thrust, he buries himself inside her, both of them groaning at the sensation of finally, finally being joined after what feels like an eternity of waiting.

"Fuck," Harry gasps, his forehead dropping to rest against hers, his breathing ragged as he fights for control. "You feel so good. So fucking perfect around me."

For a moment, neither moves, both savoring the feeling of completeness, of rightness that comes from being connected this way. Then Y/N shifts her hips slightly, a silent plea for more, and Harry responds with a deep, rolling thrust that makes her gasp.

"Thirteen days," he murmurs against her neck, setting a rhythm that's neither gentle nor rough but somewhere in between, deep, deliberate strokes that hit exactly where she needs them. "Thirteen days of watching you walk around in those little shorts, those tight dresses, knowing I couldn't touch you the way I wanted to."

His pace increases slightly, his hands sliding beneath her to grip her ass, changing the angle in a way that has Y/N seeing stars with every thrust.

"Thirteen days of cold showers and jerking off in the bathroom like a fucking teenager," he continues, his voice rough with exertion and desire. "Thirteen days of imagining this, being inside you, feeling you come apart around me."

Y/N's nails dig into his back, leaving crescent-shaped marks in his skin as she meets him thrust for thrust, her body already building toward another peak despite having just come minutes before.

"Show me," she challenges, her voice breaking as he hits a particularly sensitive spot inside her. "Show me what thirteen days of waiting has done to you."

Something in Harry's expression shifts at her words, a final thread of control snapping as he gives in completely to the desire that's been building for two weeks. His thrusts become harder, deeper, more demanding as he pushes her thighs wider apart, angling her hips to take him even deeper.

"This is what you wanted, isn't it?" he growls, his voice barely recognizable with need. "To push me until I couldn't take it anymore. Until I had to have you, had to be inside you, had to make you feel every second of those thirteen fucking days."

Each word is punctuated with a thrust that drives the breath from Y/N's lungs, pleasure building so intensely that she can barely form coherent thoughts, let alone words. All she can do is hold on, meeting his intensity with her own as they chase release together.

"Tell me you missed this," Harry demands, one hand sliding between them to circle her clit with his thumb, adding another layer to the overwhelming sensations coursing through her. "Tell me you thought about it every day, every night, just like I did."

"I missed it," Y/N gasps, honesty torn from her by pleasure and need. "Missed you, missed this, thought about it constantly, "

Her words dissolve into moans as the combination of his cock inside her and his thumb on her clit pushes her rapidly toward another orgasm, this one building even more intensely than the first.

"That's it," Harry encourages, his rhythm faltering slightly as his own control frays at the edges. "Come for me again, baby. Let me feel you."

His thumb presses more firmly against her clit, circling in time with his thrusts, and Y/N shatters with a cry that might be his name or might be just a primal sound of release. Her inner muscles clench around him in rhythmic pulses, drawing a guttural groan from Harry as he follows her over the edge, his hips jerking erratically as he empties himself inside her.

For long moments afterward, they remain joined, both breathing heavily, bodies slick with sweat and satisfaction. Harry's weight is a comforting pressure on top of her, grounding her as the aftershocks of pleasure gradually subside.

Eventually, he rolls to the side, bringing her with him so that she's sprawled across his chest, their legs still tangled together. One of his hands comes up to stroke her hair, the gesture tender in contrast to the intensity of their lovemaking moments before.

"Worth the wait?" he asks after a while, his voice rough but tinged with amusement.

Y/N laughs softly against his skin, pressing a kiss to the tattoo over his heart.

"Definitely," she admits, raising her head to meet his gaze. "Though I'm not sure I'd want to do it again anytime soon."

Harry's smile is slow and satisfied as he tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, his touch gentle now that the urgency has passed.

"No?" he teases. "And here I was thinking we could make it a monthly tradition."

Y/N swats at his chest playfully, earning a laugh that rumbles beneath her cheek.

"Absolutely not," she declares firmly. "Two weeks was more than enough abstinence to last me a lifetime."

Harry's expression softens as he looks at her, something warm and tender replacing the heat that had consumed them both minutes earlier.

"Agreed," he murmurs, pulling her closer for a kiss that's gentle but no less passionate for its softness. "Besides, I can think of much more enjoyable ways to spend our time."

His hand slides down her back in a caress that's appreciative rather than demanding, both of them too spent for anything more at the moment but content in the knowledge that they have all the time in the world to explore each other again.

"No more bets," Y/N mumbles against his chest, already feeling the pull of sleep after the emotional and physical intensity of the evening.

Harry chuckles, pressing a kiss to the top of her head as he pulls the duvet over them both.

"No more bets," he agrees, his voice warm with affection and satisfaction. "At least, not ones that involve keeping my hands off you for any length of time."

Y/N smiles against his skin, letting the steady rhythm of his heartbeat lull her toward sleep, secure in the knowledge that the torturous two weeks are finally, blessedly over, and that neither of them is likely to suggest anything similar anytime soon.

As for who won the bet? In the end, it hardly seems to matter anymore.

· · ─────────── ·· ────────── · ·

Taglist: @triski73 @angeldavis777 @ivegotthecinema @bethiegurl19 @sstylezzz @spargelhund @myfavefanficsever @spinnic

[howi99]

Nora: *bench pressing 505lb*

Yang: *whistle* Damn girl, you make it look easy! I can barely do 305 myself.

Nora: *posing the weight back, sitting up and wiping off the sweat from her forehead* That's nothing compared to Jaune.

Yang: *turning her head towards Jaune, cocking an eyebrow* But he's only doing calisthenics-

Nora: What time is it?

Yang: *confused* 3 pm, why?

Nora: *deadpan* He's been at it since 7 am.

Yang: ... H-how!?

Nora: *shrug* Apparently, ballet is more akin to a spartan training regimen than actual dance lessons. I tried his "light" exercises... *Shiver* I was unable to walk for a day...

Yang: That bad!?

Nora: I felt muscles i didn't know i had, Yang! Jaune-Jaune might be unable to jump in the air and do fancy attacks like us, but in a marathon? He would beat us all!

_ Jaune's "light" training _

Jaune: *perplexed* You guys alright?

Pyrrha: *out of breath* J-Jaune! We can't- *huf* We can't walk all day like you!

Jaune: ... *Tilting his head* Can't y'all use aura to help?

Nora: *transporting an almost dying Ren* WE ARE!

Jaune: ... *Scratch his head* Really? But i haven't even used mine yet, how can y'all be exhausted already?

Pyrrha: We've been walking for 5 hours-

Jaune: *happily smiling* And we have 5 more hours to go. So chop-chop, more walking and less complaining!

Ren: *weakly extending his hand towards the sky* D-dad? Is that you? Can i finally... rest?

Nora: *Panicking* REN! DON'T WALK TOWARDS THE LIGHT! STAY WITH MEEEEE!

Jaune: *rolling his eyes* Fine, we can take a short break, but no complaints that everything hurts even more when we start walking again, ok?

[littlelonelyone]

Late Night (George Weasley x Reader)

Warning: 17+, First Time, Fluff, Smut, Sleepover, A Little Oral (M), Fingering.

Description: It’s the Holidays for students at Hogwarts and after Readers parents refuse to let them stay at the burrow, George and Reader are determined and come up with a plan to meet during their break no matter what. Reader has muggle parents.

This is so long, I suddenly snuck a whole skin care regimen in there LOL forgive me. Self care is the best care! <3

I was so excited yet so anxious. The clock read 11:32 PM and my entire household seemed to be out like a light. At this very minute, I was waiting for my best friend and crush, George Weasley. It was his first time coming to my house, yet alone his first time sharing a bed with me. It was always a rule at the burrow that the girls had to stay with Ginny so we never got the chance to have a real sleepover. I was nervous. We had waited until I was sure my family was asleep then I sent Snowflake (my owl) with a note to let George know that the coast was clear and that he could now apparate.

Once my family were sleeping they pretty much never woke up so I wasn’t too worried about waking them up anyways. My family consisted of my parents and younger twin brothers. Which you can now obviously understand why I was able to become as close as I was to George and Fred. I was also very close with their other family members considering we all knew what it was like dealing with such hyperactive people that came in PAIRS!

Anyways, it was Christmas Break and I would have been spending the holiday with The Weasleys just like Harry and Hermoine were but my dad hit me with a big fat NO. So being the mischievous teenagers we were and also not wanting to be apart, George and I had an entire plan thought out about him coming to spend a night or so with me since I was unable to go to the burrow. Finally that night was here.

While Snowflake was en route to George, I made sure I had everything we needed so I didn’t have to leave my room and risk waking up my parents. I had water, snacks, movies and face masks. I made sure I put on a silencing charm knowing our laughs would become super loud and I also had my own bathroom so I didn’t have to worry about George wandering around my house.

I knew it was going to take about an hour for Snowflake to reach George so in the meantime I started making a blanket fort and brought all the supplies inside. I took some fairy lights and displayed them around the top of the inside of the fort. The inside had my fluffiest blankets laid across the floor so it was soft and I had about a million pillows, making sure we would be comfy. Once everything seemed to be ready I crawled out of the fort and stood up with my hands on my hips, admiring my creation.

Just as I finished setting everything up, I heard a light thud coming from my small balcony and I couldn’t hide the smile that was now displayed on my face. George was here! I walked over to the door and opened it for him. There he stood lazily smiling down at me, his hair was kind of damp so I knew he recently showered. I giggled then grabbed his arm, dragging him into my room. “Are you crazy? You’ll get sick wandering about with wet hair! Then who’s going to be the one taking care of you because it sure isn’t going to be me.” I jokingly lectured him as I walked to my closet to retrieve a towel. As I turned around for his reaction it was just as I thought, a slight pink tint covered his cheeks and it was why he was my favourite Weasley twin.

Unlike Fred, George was the more reserved of the two. Don’t get me wrong, George had a personality that matched his older brother but I always noticed something deeper and observed him a lot and I came to realize he’s more in touch with his feelings than Fred is. It made me want to protect him and also made me develop a teensy crush on him.

“Shut up! You tell me almost every time I see you and my hair is a bit damp and I still haven’t gotten sick now have I?” He replied and pushed my shoulder a little. I scoffed and acted hurt as I placed a hand on his chest and lightly pushed him back, guiding him to sit on my bed. I took the towel and began drying his hair with it. “Well excuse me for caring, I guess this will be the last time I ever dry your hair for you since you’re basically invincible.” I teased and was about to remove the towel from his head when he stopped me by softly grabbing my wrist. I looked down into his eyes wondering what was on his mind. “What if I told you I purposely showed up with my hair wet knowing you would be there to save me with your trusty towel.” George said and a little smile appeared on his face as a blush appeared on mine. “Then I’d say you’re crazy and don’t start crying to me when you catch a cold!” I joked and pushed his head back with my index finger so he was now laying on my bed.

“Where’s all your blankets?” George asked as he sat back up and looked at my bare bed. “You kidding? You don’t see this masterpiece right here?!” I motioned towards the blanket fort I made and he walked around it was if he was a judge for some blanket fort contest. “Well I’m rather impressed with you (Y/N). Presentation 10/10, but the real test is the inside of the fort so may I take a look?” He asked while adjusting his invisible glasses.

I rolled my eyes then led him to the entrance. We both got on our hands and knees and crawled inside, I made sure to make it spacious for the two of us considering George was a giant. He looked around as if he was amazed and I couldn’t help but stare. He always looked so pretty to me. “Nicely done (Y/L/N), couldn’t have done it better myself.” He complimented my interior decorating skills and I pretended to bow. “Thanks Weasley, anything for my best mate.” I said with a wink. I didn’t catch the way he slightly bit the inside of his cheek after I winked.

“So what should we do first? Do you feel like watching a movie or we can snack on some things.” I asked George who was looking through the VHS tapes I brought out. “Let’s do both? This looks interesting.” I looked over at what he was holding up and snickered. Of course he would be holding up Ghostbusters. “Let’s do it!”

I moved over to my small tv and VCR that I brought inside the fort and started getting the movie ready. Behind me George was setting up the pillows and getting a blanket ready for me to come crawl under. Once the movie started to play, I grabbed our snack basket and crawled back to George who was already holding up the blanket for me. “Want a chocolate frog?” I offered and he happily accepted. Throughout the movie we joked about different things and talked about how it would be wicked if the Slimer somehow became an addition to Hogwarts. We had ate most of the treats so now I was tidying everything up for us to relax. I pushed out my tv and adjusted the fort so all sides were now covered. I walked over to my record player and popped in something peaceful.

“Georgie come out here for a second.” I called him and I reached in the basket for the face masks I put in there earlier. George came crawling out a second later and I motioned for him to follow me into the bathroom. “Have you ever done a face mask before?” I smiled and asked him as I turned on the faucet, waiting for the water to turn lukewarm so we could clean our faces. George slowly shook his head and I smiled even wider. “Okay great, come use this cleanser right here and wash your face, I already washed mine so I’ll wait beside you with a towel.” George did as I said and as soon as he finished I began softly dabbing his face with the towel. After his face was dry, I began running my fingers across his face so I could determine what skin type he had. George closed his eyes and I smiled at how comfortable he looked right now. His face seemed a bit dry so I chose a hydrating clay mask for him and chose the same for myself since I also suffered from dry skin.

“Okay this might be a bit cold.” I warned him and put a decent amount of clay onto an applicator and began covering his face. George let out a soft sigh and my chest fluttered. He was so cute. “Why are you always taking care of me?” George suddenly asked and opened his eyes to look at me. With his eyes open, I realised how close I was to his face and swallowed deeply. “Why not? I love taking care of the people who matter the most to me.” I simply said as I wiped some clay on his cheek. His face was almost covered completely and I couldn’t help but giggle at the way he looked right now. I didn’t want his hair to get dirty so I put one of my headbands on him and with the face mask on he looked like a beautiful lady. I applied the last bit of clay and took his hands, pulling him up to his feet so he could see my masterpiece.

Once he looked in the mirror I couldn’t help but burst out laughing at his reaction, his eyes bulged out of his head. “Godric (Y/N)! Why do I always let you do random things to me?! Remember that time I let you curl my hair?” He reminded me with a shudder and I giggled. “You must really love me then." I didn’t realise what I just said so I didn’t even catch George’s reaction either. His breath caught in his throat and he opened and closed his fist because he got sweaty palms.

“Okay now you.” He said. I agreed and reached for some product with my applicator when he suddenly took it from my grasp and took my hand to sit me down where he sat. “Okay I don’t know what I’m doing here exactly so bare with me.” George said as he grabbed a huge glob of product onto the applicator and approached me. I squealed and held my hands out. “GEORGE! If you’re going to do this you only need about a quarter amount each time!” I said while laughing and hiding my face. “Didn’t I just tell you to bare with me?” He responded whilst chuckling. He tried again, this time showing me and I gave him a thumbs up.

Even though I did this almost every night, this felt a little bit intimate considering we were in the bathroom together and were helping each other put clay on our faces. “So what’s supposed to happen?” He asked as he messily rubbed some across my forehead. I laughed at his sloppiness. “Well we just wait for it to dry then we wash it off, this will help our skin appear softer and help keep it moisturised since we both deal with dry skin.” I explained with my eyes closed. This felt so good. It got quiet as George focused on covering my entire face with the clay. “And done!” He said and helped me to my feet after setting the stuff down. I walked over to the mirror and started laughing immediately. Georges mask looked so perfect and well-set and mine had empty spaces and clumps but it was the thought that counted. “Thanks Georgie my hero.” I turned around to look at him. We smiled back at each other. I could really get used to his company.

Eventually the clay dried and we washed it away, adding moisturiser to both mine and Georges face then I took his hand to lead him to bed. We both crawled into the fort and got comfy under the blanket. As if on cue, we both turned to look at each other and then we laughed. We stared back at each other for a moment before I finally spoke. “Thanks for coming to see me George, I was pretty down about not being able to come to the burrow this time around but you made everything so much better.” I admitted.

Suddenly Georges hand moved to the side of my face and he adjusted my hair, tucking it behind my ear. This felt super intimate and I immediately went quiet under his gaze. We stared back at each other. My hand moved on top of his where it laid against my cheek. Just as I felt him shuffle over to me, I slowly shut my eyes and then I felt his lips on mine. Finally.

The kiss was short and sweet. George pecked twice more before he slowly pulled away to see what my reaction was like. My hand was still resting over his but my fingers were now slightly intertwined with his and my eyes were still closed. I felt like I was in paradise.

Georges heart fluttered at the way she looked. All he ever wanted to do ever since he started developing feelings was to try kiss her at least once. The fact she was so willing to reciprocate his feelings and look so pretty while doing it made him fall for the girl even harder.

(Y/N) suddenly whispered breaking the silence. “Georgie… Please do it again.” And with that, George didn’t even hesitate. He pressed his lips against hers but a bit harder this time. Wanting to show her how much he liked her with just a kiss. He wanted to put all his feelings into that kiss and so that's what he did, continuing to sweep her off her feet. George guided her with his lips so she was now on her back and he was hovering over her with his left arm holding himself up just above her head, his right hand still placed on her cheek. The moment (Y/N) opened her mouth a little to take in a breath, George swiftly moved his tongue and rolled it against hers. The little action making (Y/N) quietly moan and her eyes flashed open and were met with his. This felt sexy. George and (Y/N) were now french kissing with their eyes half lidded and it was starting to get steamier as each moment passed. Eventually they pulled away but instead of stopping, George moved her hair away from her neck and began softly kissing her.

(Y/N) couldn’t believe this was happening. He felt so good pressed against her and him kissing her neck felt amazing. She was new to intimacy and she was glad George was the person to introduce her to it. (Y/N) adjusted her head, giving him more access and as he reached her collarbone he slowly bit it but not too hard. Almost immediately after, George licked the spot where he bit and began to suck. This was an even newer feeling for (Y/N) and her back began to arch a little as she let out the cutest moan.

The sound immediately went to Georges private region. He chuckled and pulled away, then looked down at her. (Y/N)’s chest was now heavily moving up and down and her thighs were squeezed together a little. These little movements indicated that she was now starting to get turned on and it made Georges heart pound. He wasn’t a virgin and (Y/N) knew this. On the other hand, (Y/N) was a virgin and George knew this as well.

George sat up completely and so did she. Looking at him expectantly. He took her left hand and pulled it up to his mouth, kissing her fingers then moving to kiss her hand and then turning it over so he could place a kiss to the inside of her wrist. (Y/N) just watched, absolutely stunned. She always knew George would make an excellent lover but seeing it happen made her heart pound. She watched as he pulled her hand and placed it against his cheek. His eyes were closed and he looked so peaceful. This time it was her move.

She shuffled a bit closer to him and reached out with her right hand to mirror how her left hand held his cheek. With that being done and his eyes still being closed, she pulled him the rest of the way and connected their lips once again. They heavily kissed for a couple seconds before he began to speak. “I love you (Y/N).” *Peck* He held her hands against his face. “You’re so beautiful.” *Peck* She was blushing furiously but the feeling she had was amazing and she didn’t want this moment to end.

(Y/N) took advantage of the fact he was holding her hands to his face and pressed her body against him, pushing them back so she was now laying on top of him. This time she wanted to tell him so she pulled away so she could sit up and straddle him.

Both of their lips were swollen. She loved the way he looked right now. Under her. His hair laid across the pillows. “You’re so pretty.” She whispered and blushed. He quietly laughed at her choice of words but knew just how special this confession was to the innocent girl. His hands moved to her thighs and he started to rub them. Once again she leaned forward and placed the softest kiss to his jaw and finally whispered, “I love you too George Weasley.”

Even though they had said I love you to each other in the past, they always knew it had a different meaning to it than it did right now. This was much more special. For the last time, they both sat up with a knowing look. George reached for the bottom of her shirt and looked into her eyes to see if this was okay. To let him know she wanted this, she mirrored his action and reached for the bottom of his shirt, tugging it and helping him remove it. She saw him shirtless before but right now it was affecting her a lot more. She leaned over quickly and placed a kiss to his chest and he smiled down at her lovingly. When she pulled away, she removed his hands and replaced them with hers. Making eye contact with him as she teased him by pulling off her shirt slowly. (Y/N) wasn’t wearing a bra since they were getting ready for bed and she always slept braless. Georges eyes sparkled with anticipation as she finally made it to her breasts and she swiftly removed the rest of the shirt and tossed it to the side.

He exhaled just before he spoke and (Y/N) knew she had him under her control. She chose not to hide herself since she trusted him so she sat with her breasts out for him to see. George hesitantly reached upwards so he could touch her. (Y/N) slowly moved forward so their foreheads were now touching. Finally George reached her and held her breast in his large hand and began to massage it a little. At the same time they both let out a breath and they knew it was time.

They reconnected their lips once again and began french kissing as George played with her boobs. One of his hands moved downwards a little and pulled at her nipple with his fingers. This action made her moan into the kiss and she bit his lip. “Mm” George groaned a little not expecting her to react that way and she released his lip. Replacing her teeth with her lips and began to suck on it. She pulled away and pecked his lips one last time before copying what he had done before.

(Y/N) began kissing his neck, suddenly feeling very confident in herself. She began kissing up his jaw and made it to his ear, licking it a little. She was blushing like crazy but she loved how they felt against each other and she wanted more. He squeezed her hips a little tighter due to the fact that he was now starting to get turned on but wanted to make sure he went slow with her. Little did he know he had just unleashed something she’d been dying to release. Him being the only one she ever wanted turned her on a lot more and the fact they were doing intimate things to each other was driving her crazy. Without knowing what she was doing, she began to softly grind against George as they kissed and had her boobs played with. The moment she heard him whisper “Fuck (Y/N)..” was the exact moment she felt him beginning to get hard underneath her. Her heart was pounding and she was excited. Wanting to go further, she remembered what she saw in a romance movie before and began to kiss all around his chest to see what type of reaction she could get out of him. George had let out another soft groan as she began to kiss more towards his abdomen and she began to realise how much she was affecting him. The outline of his dick was now showing through his pyjama pants and she bit her lip. He watched her reaction to see if they should stop now but was taken aback at how dirty of an expression she had on her face right now. She was blushing and biting her lip as her thumb drew circles into his waist. He noticed what she was staring at.

Before George even had a chance to ask her if she wanted to continue she interrupted him with an unexpected question. “Can I touch it?” She asked him and this time it was his turn to blush. Never had he ever met someone so straightforward and it was her innocence that lead to this question and she didn’t even realise how much she was affecting the younger twin. Not that he was complaining or anything. George simply nodded, afraid to speak and hear what his voice sounded like. (Y/N) grinned and bit her lip again as her fingers moved to the waistband of his pants. She hooked her fingers underneath and tugged. George lifted his hips letting her remove his pants and she tossed them to the side before returning her gaze to his lower area. This position felt a little weird to George since he was usually the one leading but if it was (Y/N), he would probably let her do anything to him if she asked.

(Y/N) started by placing her hand on his left inner thigh and began to move closer to his dick. After what felt like hours to George, she finally reached him and pressed her hand right against it. She didn’t really know what to do so she started by rubbing her hand up and down it like she had done on his thigh and he let out a little groan from finally being touched by her. This time it was Georges turn to be shocked and he couldn’t believe this was happening. He always pined after his best friend but could never bring himself to confess. He always felt like he would corrupt her meanwhile she had been holding back all along. She was kind of scary. In a good way. Just as she was about to ask George to help her, his hand moved over hers and he helped her grabbed a hold of his dick.

Together they moved her hand up and down over his boxers before she looked up at him and with her eyes, silently asked him to remove them. George stared back at her, gulping. The moment she pulled them down and his dick sprang out, she felt something between her legs and squeezed them together. Once she discarded his boxers she went back to what she was doing before. (Y/N) held Georges dick the way he showed her a moment ago and began to pump her hand up and down. George moved his head back on the pillow. He loved the way her soft hands felt against him and he thrust his hips once into her hands and moaned. She bit her lip at his reaction and moved slightly faster. Suddenly she had the urge to touch it with her mouth and without warning, she leaned down and licked right across his tip. This unexpected action made George thrust his hips into her hands even harder and he moaned again. Noticing his reaction to her mouth on his dick was good, she licked it once again then completely covered his tip with her mouth and swirled her tongue around it. “F-fuck!” George yelped and he looked down at her with a blush.

Although (Y/N) never gave head before she always heard Angelina and Katie talk about it whenever they had sleepovers at school. They always talked about little things they did that their boyfriends liked, which (Y/N) would secretly keep note of in case a moment like this would happen and she couldn’t help but thank her friends in her mind. Remembering Alicia told her it was like sucking on a lollipop, (Y/N) copied that motion and continued sucking and licking his tip at the same time she jerked him off. Even though she barely had her mouth around him, it was enough for George to want to cum and he pulled her off to stop. Suddenly feeling embarrassed about being the only one completely naked, George pulled her up and turned her around so her back was now against his chest. She blushed at the feeling of his dick against her lower back.

Slowly he leaned backwards until they were both in a good position and started rubbing circles around her tummy and played with her boobs. George started moving his hands to the waist band of her shorts so he could reach inside and see if she was wet. Once he felt the top of her panties he slowly moved his middle finger down to where her hole would be over the soft fabric and he began to add pressure. He groaned at the feeling. (Y/N) was already soaking through her panties and she was starting to squirm in his grasp.

“Can I touch you too?” He asked. They were doing a lot of mirroring that night, copying each others sentences and actions. She quickly nodded and he chuckled. Together they removed her shorts and panties and they got back into their position. George started with rubbing all around her outer thighs before finally making it to her inner thigh and lightly brushing his finger near her vagina. She exhaled shakily. George moved a little so he could use his feet to hook around her calves in a way he could have more access to her and he began to spread her legs. Even though nothing was happening, she moaned at the feeling of George getting ready to touch her.

Once they were comfortable again, George brought his finger to (Y/N)s mouth and she began to suck on it, swirling her tongue around it like she did to his dick. Once it was wet enough he pulled it out and moved it to her vagina. Using his left hand to spread open her pussy lips and used his damp finger from his right hand to slowly rub circles around her clit. She hissed at the feeling and bit her lip. George smiled and began to rub her clit a little faster once she relaxed against him, also leaning down to place kisses across her shoulder. Instead of using his left hand to spread her open, he instead began tracing the outline of her hole with his middle finger. She moaned at the feeling of both his hands working on different parts of her body. Slowly he began to insert his middle finger into her pussy and he could feel just how tight she was. (Y/N) was breathing heavily now and her back was starting to arch against him.

Her little movements and sounds were enough to drive George over the edge and he moved to whisper in her ear. “I’m going to make you feel so good.” Then he pressed his finger all the way inside her. She moaned even louder and threw her head back and looked at him. Her eyes were sparkling. She reached up with her left hand to grab Georges head and pulled him into their 3rd heavy make out that night. George synced with the feeling of their tongues and moved his finger in and out of her quickly then eventually added a second. “Ahh Georgie-,” She started but was cut off again by his tongue. (Y/N) never felt this way before and it was unreal how badly she wanted to be with George.

George on the other hand was trying not to go too far with her and tried to pace himself but he felt so good kissing her and felt himself getting carried away. He began using his thumb to massage her clit as he pumped his fingers into her even faster. (Y/N) pulled away from the kiss immediately and let out the sexiest moan George ever heard in his life. In one swift movement, he flipped her over onto her back again and immediately started attacking her neck, leaving love bites everywhere. He really wanted to go all the way but just as he prepared himself to slow down, (Y/N) began speaking between moans. “Georgie. Ah. Oh fuck!….” She pulled him towards her by grasping his hair and slammed her lips against his. She sucked on his tongue then moved to his lips and started peppering kisses all over his lips and cheeks. She slowly kissed towards his ear and stopped, suddenly feeling shy about what she was about to whisper.

“Make love to me George.” She panted and that was it. George couldn’t hold back anymore. He quickly slipped inside her and they both let out a moan. “Fuuuuck!” George moaned. He stayed still so she could adjust to the new feeling. He looked down at her, eyes squeezed shut but chest heaving from how turned on she was feeling. George leaned down and kissed her forehead, reassuring her if she needed it. He made sure to stay still until she could fully and completely adjust to his length.

Slowly he started to move, but just barely as he could feel how tense she was. He leaned down to her ear and whispered "Just breathe and relax my sweet girl, doing so good for me.." Hearing this and how gentle he was being with her made her calm down quickly and she let her body relax. "Just kiss me and don't stop kissing me please." She whispered back and George knew it was time.

He felt her finally relax and he pulled out of her. "This will only hurt a little.." And with that being said he slammed back into her. She moaned loudly and clung onto George tightly as he repeatedly thrust in and out of her. George didn't even realise he had been waiting for this moment for a long time and he could hardly contain himself. He slammed his lips against hers and tried to copy the pace in which he was going at.

George was right, it did only hurt a little and I was now feeling nothing but pure pleasure. A moan escaped my lips as he kissed me and he suddenly started sucking on my lips and tongue so he could quiet me down. "Oh George!" I whimpered as he pulled away and let his head fall to my shoulder. I could feel my vagina throbbing at the way he moaned.

It was all too much for George. He was too focused on making sure that (Y/N) was feeling comfortable that he didn't focus on how good she felt. With his head buried in her shoulder he started letting out moans of his own. She was everything he dreamed of. She felt perfect. He felt himself losing control as he pounded into her. Holding her hands to make sure she felt okay.

"Shit George... Ahh Fu--" She said in between moans, letting go of his hands then scratching at his back as he fucked her in missionary. His eyes were squeezed tight and he groaned. Never had he been this vocal during sex and it was all because of her. "(Y'N) I'm going to cum.." He managed to choke out as he sloppily fucked her. All she could do was nod due to the fact that she was in the same state as him. On the verge of release. She moved her hips to match his pace and with one final thrust, they both came at the same time. Hands intertwined once again, (Y/N) squeezing his hips between her thighs.

Once they caught their breath. George slowly pulled out of her. "Are you okay?" He asked with genuine concern, helping her sit up. She leaned forward a bit and kissed him in response. "Thanks for this George, it was amazing." She told him.

He smiled back at her sweetly. He loved her honesty and found her endearing. "i guess now would be a good time to tell you that I love you and I want you to be my girlfriend." He said with confidence, their foreheads touching. "I think I was your girlfriend long before this night." She joked. "I would love to be yours Georgie, I only had a crush on you for forever." She admitted with her newfound confidence. "I love you too George Weasley." She said for the second time.

He smiled and for the last time that night, gave her the softest kiss they had exchanged so far. "Come on, let's get you all cleaned up." George said and took her hand leading her towards the bathroom for a shower. Once they were all showered up, he took care of her and he cleaned up the mess they had made and fixed the fort. They ended their night cuddling and fell asleep in each others arms.

[airbendertendou]

a small compilation of moments between autistic!reader + connor happy disability pride month <3

anon requested : hi! i was wondering if you could do something with connor and the autistic reader and like them going nonverbal and how he would handle that? You don’t have to do it if you don’t wanna! :)

please do not use this as a way to self-diagnose. having one thing in common does not necessarily mean you are autistic. im not a therapist or doctor, if you think you’re on the spectrum, talk to them. <3

if you have a blank blog [no bio, no user, no header or profile pic, nothing reblogged, etc] do not interact with my content. you will be blocked.

temperature irregulation ♥︎

hank was a firm believer in a cold house. when the summer season came and brought a heatwave with it, the older man wouldn’t allow anything other than a brisk, chilly living room.

it was often you’d come over to go over old cases and study with hank. interning with the detroit police department was fun — the academy, however, you could live without. you’d learned to dress warm when visiting hank’s house, having a hard time warming up once you were cold.

“here,” a thicker sweater is placed over the couch, the sleeve laying on your shoulder. you take it without thought, swapping your thinner one for the new one. connor smiles at the pattern on your fuzzy socks, the sight of your toes curling in delight at the warmth bringing something tender to his brain. “better?”

you nod with a hum, “thanks, detective.”

hank rolls his eyes, hiding the curl of his lips at your obliviousness. “anyways, as i was saying—”

[interrupted] routine ♥︎

every day at 12:10 pm, you’d wander into the breakroom for a snack and drink refill. connor didn’t mean to memorize your specific regimen — but after watching you do the same thing for a week straight, it stuck to his mind.

you loitered in the doorway to the breakroom, peeking in occassionally to see if it’d emptied out any. gavin caught your gaze, rolling his eyes at your hesitance. it was then you spotted the mug in his hands — your mug, the one you always used. your frown deepened.

connor budged his way into the crowd, bumping into gavin and causing his drink to spill. every curse leaving the human’s mouth went ignored — connor only watched as you cowered away from gavin’s angry steps as he left. grabbing the dropped mug, connor rinsed it four times before holding it out to you shyly.

you crept into the breakroom, grabbing the handle of the mug and shooting the android a thankful grin.

stimming with pressure ♥︎

hank opened the door to his house with a sigh. connor’s eyebrows furrowed as he tilted his head, questioning the elder silently. hank leans against the door, “[name]’s been here a while, s’all. won’t leave my bathtub.”

a safe zone, connor concludes, somewhere small and compact ; where you could see every corner and every threat. he makes his way to the bathroom without another thought, pausing at the sight of you.

your eyes are closed, face crumpled in displeasure as you clench and unclench your fists in a pattern. connor knocks on the door, announcing his presence without startling you. your eyes fly open, “hello, detective.”

“you can call me connor, if you’d like.” the android steps further into the bathroom slowly, allowing you to object if you need to. your eyes stay on him — his thirium pump stutters in his chest. “anything i can do to help?”

taking in a deep breath, you puff your cheeks as you release the air. “maybe. if you don’t think it’s weird.”

connor stares down at you, his upper lip curled in hesitance as you lay in hank’s bed. you adjust yourself, wiggling around until you’ve splayed your limbs where you want them. you blink up at him, “well?”

“it is a little... strange.” connor tries to be nice, he really does. but asking an android to lay on you — to put their full weight on you — he’s concered. “i will crush you.”

you roll your eyes, “i have a weighted blanket at home ; it’s no different.”

“i weigh quite a bit more than—”

“are you going to lay on me or not, connor?”

maybe it was the sound of you saying his name for the first time ; maybe it was the way you looked so defeated. whatever it was, connor found himself laying on you as gently as he could. the relaxation was immediate — he could feel the breath of relief you let out ; the way your body sagged.

you fell asleep that way — with connor holding his breath and tensing up the closer you got.

sensory overload ♥︎

the scene you were going to was a lot. it was nighttime now, the sirens and flashing lights bringing everyone’s attention this way. hank leaves the car first, grumbling as he goes. the sound that leaks through his open door causes you to whimper.

connor turns his head to you, “everything alright?”

your gaze hasn’t left the window as you squint, blinking at all of the lights. you gulp before biting your lip. “i’ll be fine. this is what i signed up for.”

you’re barely out of the car and already wincing at the noise and the lights. you can’t see hank ; can’t hear or understand anything being said around you. the world is blinking in hues of red and blue, wailing sirens going off with every flash of the lights.

the sound grows muffled as soft and sturdy hands cup your ears. a thumb moves from your ear briefly, just long enough for you to hear a whisper. “close your eyes and i’ll lead you into the house. that’s where the lieutenant is.”

trusting connor’s words — a little too easily — you squeeze your eyes shut. your hands go up to cover his, sealing your ears from the harsh sounds around you. stumbling a little here and there, you eventually feel a difference in temperature as you enter the house.

letting out a sigh, your shoulders moving with the motion, slowly your eyes peel open. you glance at connor, ignoring the tenderness of his gaze. “thanks, connor.”

he lets out a deep breath, ignoring the sly grin hank sends his way. “no problem, [name].” 

verbal shutdown ♥︎

it happened so quick. your safe foods had vanished from their designated cabinet ; your chair’s wheel was squeaking incessently ; hank hadn’t shown up today. everything was piling on and you finally exploded.

the evidence locker was empty as you shakily typed in hank’s password. you hit the wrong button a few times, squeezing your eyes together at the little beeps. your breathing picks up — you hold it in your chest and shake your hands, releasing the tension built inside you.

you all but crawl into the secure room, your back hitting the wall as you sit down. your eyes squeeze shut again and you go through the motions, choosing the less destructive ways to calm yourself down.

none of them work.

when connor finds you, you’re drawing shapes on the floor with your finger. you’ve curled into yourself, not making a sound ; your usual means of comfort absent from your lips. he walks to you cautiously, “[name]? hank has returned. he’s asking to see you.”

you don’t move ; not a sound falls from your lips. connor sits in front of you, crossing his legs as he waits. from his suit pocket comes a ring of multicolored notecards — your eyes flash to his at the sight of them. connor holds them out further so that you can see them properly. “want to use these?”

a miniscule nod, but it’s enough to make him smile. “alright,” he flicks through the blue cards — feelings. stopping at your set of upset verbs, he slides the ring your way. “any of these describe how you’re feeling?”

a shaky finger hits the word overstimulated before dragging over to panic. connor nods, flipping to the pink set — solutions. “what do you want to do? go home ; nap ; have a snack ; get your puzzle book ; coloring book...” connor holds them up to you, reading out each one until you nod — except you don’t. pausing, connor speaks up again, “want me to leave?”

you shake your head. slowly, your hand crawls across the floor until it meets his. you nudge his hand, curling your fingers under his. connor holds his breath, adjusting your fingers until you’re holding hands properly. his eyes stay to the floor, “this is okay, too. let me know when you’re ready to leave.”

emotional regulation ft. lots of crying ♥︎

“connor,” your voice brings him out of his work. standing beside his desk, connor watches as you sway side to side. he tilts his head and it makes your eyes water. “i’m going to cry.”

that was his cue to take you into his arms. connor stands to do so, gathering your body against his and rocking you side to side slowly. your body hiccups a few times, sniffles leaving your nose occassionally. you seem to calm down even more as he rubs your back soothingly — connor’s led light flashes yellow as he stores that information for later.

you pull away with a deep breath, rubbing your face with the hoodie you’re wearing. connor frowns, “better?”

you nod, “needed that. thank you.”

“want to tell me what upset you? only if you want to.”

connor never knew what to expect your answer to be. sometimes you just shook your head and snuggled close to him again. other times, you did talk about why you were crying and it made connor realize the extent of human emotions. 

“no more chocolate in the snack cabinet.”

“had a nice dream.”

“hank is wearing yellow.”

“it’s such a pretty day today!”

“too much noise.”

“gavin cut his hair.”

you let out another sniffle, lips pouting in thought. “not too sure this time. jus’ felt like i needed to cry.”

connor nods to himself, his led light whirring yellow once more. “i’m glad you feel comfortable with me, [name]. i’ll be here if you need another cry.”

you grin, meeting his eyes for a brisk second before reaching out to hold his hand. you swing your entwined hands lightly, grin softening into something gentle. “i know. thanks, con.”

the detective was sure he’d implode because of you soon. just not yet — not when you’re still holding his hand.

——♥︎—— for some reason my brain tells me to only write autistic readers n pair them w connor. like?? work w me here!! anyways. i hope this was okay, remember to take your meds, drink some water and have a nice snack!! airbendertendou © do not copy, plagiarize, repost, or translate my content on any platform. if you see my content under any other name than my own, let me know. i only have this tumblr and an ao3 account under the same name.

[srbachchan]

DAY 6193

Jalsa, Mumbai Jan 30, 2025 Thu 11:06 pm

🪔 ,

January 31 .. birthday greetings to Ef Valentina Ivanovna .. Ef Sourav Banerjee .. and Ef Madhumita Gupta .. 🙏🏽❤️🚩 .. love and greetings from the entire Ef gang .. enjoy !!

when you do it yourself , the difference makes all the difference .. staff , executives , personal assistants , are marvellous .. they follow what the follower wages .. and the wager is strong and in keeping with the pronouncement of the ONE ..

That is but a follower .. the independence of the dependant is quite obviously depending on what the brief given is .. or what he or she wishes to be executed ..

At times the issues raised are such that the following requires a follow regimen ..

and where does that leave us ..

no where .. stationary and still - bearing the bear ..

giving in is weak .. standing firm is arrogant .. neutral has complex repercussions ..

to be or not to be that is the question ..

really ..

and both have admirers ..

Amitabh Bachchan

[gothic-thoughts]

Music To My Ears

Gojo Satoru x Black GN Reader Smut

MDNI, Perv Coworker!Gojo, Bimbo!Reader

CW: all the dirty words(he's a whore), stupid and oblivious Reader, Gojo jerking 📴 to your voice, reader being fluent in Yapanese 😭, imma degrade y'all cuz u lack brain cells

Word Count: 1191 (give or take)

It was 11 pm, and you were on the phone with your coworker, Satoru. You've been talking for about an hour now, but after a while, you noticed soft huffing and heard soft panting. Since there's not much going on up there, all you thought to do was tilt your head to the side with confusion. You shrug it off and continue to yap, but the longer he listened, the more he groped and palmed his erection through the grey sweats he wore.

“Uh, Gojo?” Your first mistake was saying his name.

“Yeah? What’s up, girlie?”

“You good?"

"Say again?" He heard you perfectly fine, but you can't tell can you?

"I asked if you were good. You workin' out right now?"

“Hah, yeah.” He responds before muttering, “I'm workin' somethin', ngh."

“Huh? You keep mumbling, Toru.”

"Hehe, don't worry about it." More panting "Just...continue your story."

You shake your head, believing his panting really came from a workout regimen, knowing damn well the strongest sorcerer don't need one.

“So like I was saying...”

He chuckled and made a low growling noise as he reached into his sweatpants, feeling how damp his boxers were from how much precum soaked into them. He bit his lip, slowly pulling out the erection that you caused from that voice you blessed him with. Every inflection, filler word, and gasp when you remembered another part of your story drove him so wild.

“And then I was like, ‘Ohmygod, Shoko’s not working for once?’ So I ran up to her...”

He grunts, trying his best to keep his voice away from the whiney territory he knew it could rise to if he felt too good. To you, his breathing sounded a bit...off, as if it sounded heavy and...well, different than normal. But he was working out, of course, he’d sound like that.

“The only reason I hesitated was because I feel like she don’t like me...”

With every passing moment, his fist passed over his shaft while his left hand kept a firm hold around his base, keeping him from exploding too soon, and with how often you clicked your tongue or sucked your teeth, he could’ve at any moment.

“Do you think she likes me; ion think she likes me. Anyways, though...”

The grunting sound only grew in pitch as the groans started to sound more...animalistic, mouth forming a smirk. He whispers your name, guiding his hand up and down his cock a little faster, getting the palm sticky with precum.

“Toru...” The concern in your voice makes his hand stop, “You sure you okay?

He bites his lip as he moans softly, watching another drop of precum squeeze out his tip and slide down to his still fist. "Yeah... heh...” 

“You huffin’ like a dog.”

“Oh sorry. I’m doing... I’m doin’ some push-ups right now so..." 

"Ohhhh, aight."

"Keep talking, short stuff."

"You even listening, Gojo?"

"Of course I am, I can, ngh, multitask."

"Mmm..."

The little hum of yours made him bite his bottom lip so hard that it bled. "I mean it, girlie." He sighs, "Hanging on every word. You were talking about your shopping spree."

"Oh yeah! I got a bunch of clothes with Utahime today! And they are the fuckin’ cutest! Like, there’s one that was...”

He groaned quieter as he heard you continue on, pumping his hand up and down to the speed your excited voice spoke. His fist twists with each stroke, grinding his red, sensitive cockhead into his palm which makes him shiver. The sound of his breathing had become noticeably heavier and deeper. He didn't respond just yet, instead, he only let out low grunts and 'mhm's in response to what he heard you say. He started to lift his hips from his bed, fucking his fist while pretending it was him making you ride him.

“And I got new lip gloss. Like a lot of lip gloss; cuz you know me...”

He did, in fact, know you; meaning that you prolly got almost every color, scent, and flavor imaginable just to try out. That sentence was all it took for the strongest sorcerer's mind to switch from thoughts of how good you'd feel bouncing on his long dick to how soft and wet your mouth was. You talk so much so it's gotta be moisturized as hell, not like he wouldn't make you use so much spit it made the colors on your lips smear around his veined shaft.

He whined into the speaker as you rambled, but TRUST he was listening. His eyes were rolled back, his hand began pumping faster, massaging the swollen head of his cock while his free hand gripped the base. He wanted to smear that lip gloss, stick, whatever so bad; just the thought of leaving your plump lips and chin stained with white and whatever other color made his full balls tense.

"H-hey, short stuff? You think you can you count down from 10 for me?"

"Yeah, why?"

"For my workout, remember?"

"Ohhh, right." You let out another oblivious giggle, "I forgot about that."

"Y-yeah, I'm, uhm, planking... and I'm al-most....done. Count for me."

"Kaykay. Ten.... nine..."

His hand slows down, trying to time his orgasm with that sexy voice. Gojo groaned and grunted, letting it all out since your dopey ass wholeheartedly believed he was tired from overexertion.

"Eight... seven..."

"Yesss~" He whispered, "Suck it, baby girl, that's it. Show me those eyes."

His breath got shallow as he looked down at his thighs, imagining you were scratching at them while your glazed-over eyes blinked up at him.

"Six... five..." 

"Yeah, not a fuckin' thought behind them, huh? F-uck, lemme give your mouth somethin' else to do."

Unable to help himself, he speeds up his hand, coating his entire dick in his own precum. His back arches from the bed as his hips thrust up, fucking his fist as you got close to one.

"Four.... three..."

"So fucking close, s'fuckin' close. I'm...gonna...cum. W-wanna cum in your mouth, baby please."

"Two... one."

"Ah, shiiit!!"

He let a resounding, drawn-out growl as pent-up cum spurts from his cock, shooting across his slim fingers. He continued driving his shaft through his fist, body shaking on his bed as his load continued to spill over his hand. He finally calms down, resting on his bed, and looking down at the cum all over his abs and lower stomach, clinging to his happy trail and pubes. 

"Damn," Your voice snaps him out of it, "Did you hurt yourself, Toru? That sounded painful?"

"N-no, I'm okay just...." He gulps thickly, collecting himself, "J-just planked longer than I could handle, heh."

"Was that okay? Did I count too fast or...?"

"Haah, no. It was perfect, girlie, th-thanks."

"Oh... uhh..." You tilt that empty head of yours, "What was I saying...?"

"You were talkin' 'bout... gettin' some clothes from Utahime... I think?"

"Oh, yeah! Then I was talkin' bout lip gloss!"

"Yeah, yeah." His cock slowly starts to harden again, putting a tired, yet devious smirk on his face, "Tell me what colors you got."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

(a/n): eat up.

[sydneymykah]

☆☆THE STRUGGLE OF ROUTINE ☆☆

✧─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Some people can just get out of bed and automatically do what they need to do to get the day started. And the same people seem to be the ones we see the most on our screens. "My Morning Routine", "My weekly regimen", "What I eat in a day", and "My Nightly Routine". These people are seemingly put together and perfect like their said routines. But here you are slouched on your undone bed, still in your pajamas, wearing makeup from the day before after waking up after 12 pm. You meaning me, lmao. ☆...

☆The struggle of routine is something we all face regardless of what social media persists to tell us. But I don't really want to talk about how "social media is fake" because that's not even fully true. Some people really do live like this and have very structured routines for their day to day lives, granted it's what pays their bills but that's still technically their routine. But I'm more concerned about talking about how DIFFICULT it is to keep a constant routine. Especially in this weird time we live in.

ミ★I'm a perfectionist. I hate when things don't go the way I want and I tend to want things one way or not at all. But life doesn't live by those rules. Life will throw whatever the hell it wants at you, whenever it feels like it. As an individual you have to learn to work around it all. For me it's an inconsistent work schedule, minor (or major) inconveniences, mood swings, and of course the main culprit is laziness/lack of discipline.

☆We've all done it. On a random day of the week you're up way too late reflecting on your life and what you're doing with it. You suddenly feel the hyperactive urge to fix everything about yourself. You want the perfect body before the summer. You want your hair to grow longer faster. You want to get all your life goals written down and planned out dow not the last minute. You want to post a 1 minute video everyday on TikTok at exactly 3 pm EST and post at least 4 pictures to your instagram every other day. So you open the notes app and make an extremely specific, unrealistic, and way too intense routine to follow everyday. You set reminders, add 30 new alarms to your phone, you fill your amazon cart with stuff you believe you'll defiantly use. And after you make yet another playlist of YouTube workout videos you go to bed confident your life is gonna change forever after this...

Now one of two things happen:

You completely throw away the routine the minute you wake up the next day

Or, you do it for a few days but eventually burnout and find yourself back where you were before, now with just more useless junk you have no room for...

ミ★I have personally been both. But we can all empathize with this because if maintaining a routine was easy it wouldn't be such a successful phenomenon online. Out of the millions of views under "my morning routine" posts, many, if not majority, of them are people who wish they can live the way these people do. I think we as people have developed mindsets that are negative first, positive later. Ever since the quarantine we've been used to online overconsumption. The idea that "more is better", and the scare that was the virus has sparked this fear in us that is wasted time. Hence us wanting to build new giant routines in the middle of the night just to eventually abandon it because our minds and bodies don't evolve or develop like that overnight. Most the time the routines are grueling and just makes us feel exhausted over accomplished. When we don't see immediate change a lot people, including myself, give up then and there.

☆Im not here to tell you how to keep a constant routine or how to become more disciplined because all that information is in the palm of your hands. Honestly at the end of the day it's about your mindset. Realizing what is around you and remembering the reality you live in. You want that body? You want that hair growth? You want to post? It's all possible but here's where the issue lies:

ミ★We forget to forgive ourselves and to be patient with ourselves. We fall under the pressure to perform for social media as well. In this digital age we try to make social media real life 24/7 and put real life on the back burner. Everything must be aesthetic or else! Or if you can't keep a constant routine for a week you're a failure! But the reality is no one just wakes up in their perfect aesthetic one day and has this perfect routine down pat the first time. Another thing that we keep doing is what everyone else is doing. Another example of putting the online first before real life. We've forgotten the beauty of growth, and how things develop overtime. It reminds me of how small artists have the potential to blow up overnight. They suddenly have all these eyes on them and then the GP turns on them simply because their exceptions don't match the artist's personal growth. I think we do the same to ourselves. But regardless of what other people, social media or even what you might even say to yourself the best way to find a good routine is get to know yourself, not someone else. And to not go by others expectations. It's good to hold yourself to a high regard and to make ambitious goals. But you should remind yourself that you want this to last and you don't want to burn yourself out trying to perfect your life like it's a speed run.

☆When following creators who makes content like this I advise to follow people you relate to first. Not saying you can't follow those extremely aesthetic ASMR morning/Night routine videos because hell I watch them too. But know that I watch them for simply that. I've come to the point where I can watch that stuff and not feel incompetent or that I'm failing in life but I digress. Don't pay attention to the many trends and what's hot, just look for people who you might see yourself in, or people who have qualities similar to yours. Physically, mentally, ect. Because if you're a black girl who wants to know how to do a specific 4C hairstyle you're not going to the white girl influencers for tutorials are you? For me I watch Jackie Aina. Her and I don't even have the same tastes in certain aspects, specifically clothing and home decor but she reminds me a lot of myself and some of my values. Her content inspires me but doesn't make me feel like I need to reinvent myself overnight. That's not realistic nor healthy. I think subjecting yourself to that will just give you an identity crisis. Her content helps me feel confident and you should follow people like that too.

ミ★My purpose of this post is not "continue to be a slob" (I'm a Taurus stellium and Venusian. Girl we don't do that over 'chere.) it's to remind and to encourage. A reminder that what you see online isn't what real life is 24/7. Doesn't mean it's all fake, it just means that life doesn't just look like one thing. Social media just tends to make our vision a bit tunneled. Yes, some peoples lives surround what they eat in a day, what they do when they get out of bed, and the steps they follow in their nighttime skincare routine. But our attachment and overconsumption to these types of creators constantly fails to remind us that they're still human. Hell even when the human creators tell y'all "hey I'm human" they still aren't treated as such but guess what? They are! So are you. You are still human. Finding a groove that works for you will take time. And many times you will fail. You will probably forget to do something, you won't have the time for certain tasks, or an inconvenience will pop up out of no where that knocks you off course. But if at first you don't succeed, try again. Social media picture perfect propaganda (lol) has made us forget that life happens and that we will essentially always struggle with routine. Some things stick, some things don't. Some routines last a long time, some only stay for a day. We live in an age where everyone's trying to move as fast as they can to keep with the trends, keep up appearances, and to make up for lost time. And as much as I love the thrill of the fast life, how can I expect to see my growth, what I like, what needs changing and how to fall into a good rhythm when I'm too busy trying to keep up.

✧─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Xoxo, Sydney Mykah -☆

[ryuichirou]

TWST boys’ sleeping habits and routine HCs

Our first HC post of the year! Let’s talk about TWST boys’ sleeping habits.

Anonymous asked:

May I request sleep habits for twst? Who snore? Who drools? Who clings onto you in your sleep? Who falls out of bed w/o waking up? Who knocks others out of bed? Who has a constant sleep schedule? Who has the worst? Who likes to share a bed? Who doesn't? Who does no one want to share a bed with?

Anonymous asked:

In honor of the sleepover bday card (Tysm for these, yana) do you have any hcs about their sleeping habits? How long they sleep, sleeping positions, any bedtime routines and the like?

I got the first ask back in autumn I think (yikes), and with each new bday card I kept thinking “I really should write this one faster” lol With the new theme for those cards, as amazing as it is (we’re obsessed), there is a chance that they might drop some crucial information about the topic of this post! Which would mean the most horrible thing – there is a chance that my hc might contradict canon…!! 😱

Jokes aside, please keep in mind that I write them without diving into the new cards. Which is exactly the point I guess – those are headcanons after all…

Thank you for this prompt, it was a very fun one to write, and I hope you enjoy reading it <3 Sorry it took so long!

Anyways…

Riddle – he has a pretty strict regimen, and just like some other boys in the cast, he gets very obviously sleepy around the same time every day. The cutest eepiest slow blinks… He goes to sleep pretty early, maybe around 10 PM, and he is very strict with others in that regard as well, but in actuality sometimes night becomes his opportunity for a “me time” when he can get a little self-indulgent and read a book instead. He knows that he shouldn’t do it, and that he’ll be tired and irritable the next day, but it would be a lie to say that Riddle absolutely never does that. Once he discovers books that aren’t encyclopedias or study guides, he’ll start doing it more often… He also looks like an angel when he sleeps! And he drools a little bit, but also pouts adorably. He also loves pushing his face against the pillow sometimes and hugging it. He’d probably cuddle or press his cheek against someone if he got to sleep with another person…

Ace – a fighter, not a lover. If he sleeps with someone, he’ll steal both the blanket and the second pillow somehow. He’ll also kick and punch and occasionally even nibble a little, just to drool all over the other person and/or a pillow. But also, he wakes up during the night a lot. It’s not like he has insomnia, but sometimes he finds it difficult to fall back asleep, so he ends up just hanging out, scrolling internet on his phone and watching his roommates sleep. Well, mostly Deuce, because his bed is the closest. And even though Ace himself is a pretty obnoxious sleeper, sometimes he can spend like an hour just giggling at poor Deuce… Jokes on Ace though: because of his sleepless shenanigans he hates waking up! He is never rested enough..!

Deuce – he mumbles in his sleep and moves a little… you know when a dog starts suddenly whining and “running” while sleeping because it dreams of chasing someone? That’s Deuce. He is not too active at night, but Ace saw him punching the air once and saying something like “serves you right”, and Ace had to bite his own hand not to laugh loudly waking everyone up. Deuce also says embarrassing stuff sometimes. He also called Ace an idiot in his sleep at least 5 times. He wakes himself up doing that sometimes, but pretty rarely. When he does though, he usually sits up on his bed and takes a couple of moments to figure out what’s going on. Ace loves talking with him when he is in this confused stage…

Trey – he probably falls asleep pretty fast because he gets tired by the end of his busy days. But he never really feels properly rested, even though he sleeps a normal amount of hours… is it because he sleeps on his stomach? He also looks kind of angry when he’s sleeping, as if he’s seeing some very bad dreams. But he never really remembers them when he wakes up, maybe he doesn’t see any bad dreams at all! But it’s not unusual for him to frown and squeeze a pillow or a blanket in a very tight grip while he’s sleeping. He also doesn’t really snore, but sighs every now and then, so a potential roommate might hear a very deep annoyed and disappointed sigh from Trey, only to look at him and see that he’s just sleeping… If he was to sleep with someone though, he’d probably have a hard time relaxing and would wait until the person is asleep. Especially if it’s Riddle.

Cater – he spends the majority of the night in his phone lol he doesn’t even have much to do there, he just scrolls through Magicam or watches videos on topics he isn’t really interested in. And he is sleepy when he does that, he recognises that he should probably go to sleep already, but he can’t quite beat this habit, so he just keeps sleeping for like 3-5 hours a day. He wouldn’t do it if he had someone to sleep with though! Or at least he thinks that, but he’d probably still spend the majority of the night chatting with the person instead lol For now he gets away with it because he snoozes during the classes, but whenever he hears someone talk about how bad it is for your health to cling to your phone instead of sleeping, he gets mildly annoyed.

Leona – a pretty seamless transition between his “just napping” and “sleeping” lol Sometimes he naps after dinner and then at some point it becomes “well it’s night already anyways so might as well go to sleep”. And then he wakes up during the night and walks around his dorm while everyone’s asleep… and goes right back because he is pretty bored, and there isn’t much to do. He changes his positions a lot throughout the night, but usually ends up sleeping on his back – it’s the most comfortable position to him. It’s not unusual to see him sleeping on his side facing the wall, or on his stomach with his butt in the air for some reason. Leona is a pretty quiet sleeper, but sometimes he makes little sniffing sounds. Sometimes he makes one (1) snore and wakes himself up and looks shook for a moment or two. He also calls himself a capricious prince, but sometimes he actually prefers to sleep on the floor. Not all the time though, he loves his bed as well. He also hates the idea of sleeping with someone, but it’s not like he would bother to wake up and tell the other person to leave if he was in this situation.

Ruggie – if he is in a very good mood, well-fed and comfortable and safe, he is a happy snoring starfish. He drools a lot, and even when he doesn’t snore, his breathing is still pretty loud and a bit hoarse, but it also sounds like he is pretty happy. But that doesn’t happen all the time, for the most part he curls into a ball and snores quietly every now and then, with his ears twitching, as if he is constantly trying to still be aware of his surroundings. For the most part he is a light sleeper and doesn’t even sleep for more than 5-6 hours, but when he gets especially tired, he doesn’t wake up easily. He hated waking up at night because when it happens, he has to get comfortable again – he wants his pillow to be super cold, but it’s already a little sweaty and all warm! This is the worst feeling.

Jack – as we know, he always goes to sleep at the same time, and he gets very sleepy at 10 PM. He wakes up pretty early though, probably the earliest in his entire dorm, at around 5 AM. It’s not as hot when it’s this early, plus he really loves the solitude: he feels like he gets more shit done this way, and of course it gives him plenty of time to exercise and jog. As for his sleeping habits, he doesn’t move at all when he sleeps. He just lies on his side, hugs the pillow and sleeps… similarly to Deuce, Jack gets those sleeping puppy moments, but his are a bit different: sometimes Jack growls in his sleep, he also frowns a lot. There are rare moments when he sleeps with his tongue out and breathes through his mouth, but it happens mostly when it’s too hot, and he starts throwing away pillows and blankets without waking up when it happens. He gets hot pretty easily… He also drools a little less than Ruggie, but still a lot.

Azul – he sleeps for exactly 7.5 hours each night to optimise his time, and he is an extremely cautious and light sleeper. Unless he is absolutely exhausted, he won’t fall asleep anywhere other than his bedroom, behind closed and locked doors. It’s not like he is expecting an assassin or two at all times to attack him at any moment, and life on the land isn’t as dangerous as his hometown underwater, but isn’t comfortable with the idea of becoming too comfortable, so to speak. It’s a habit, I guess. Any unexpected sound or movement would wake him up. Unless he is absolutely exhausted, that is; we’ve seen him falling sleep with his head on Riddle’s shoulder in ch6 after all… Azul also lives tiny and dark spaces, so he hides under his blanket. Even though his bed is pretty big, Azul doesn’t take up that much space at all, curling up with his knees almost touching his chin. He also absolutely wouldn’t call himself a cuddler, but it’s not really true: he hugs his pillow a lot with his arms and legs, and if he was to sleep with someone, he would probably hug them as well. It sounds cute, but he is actually too rough sometimes because he is used to grabbing things. He could also pinch the person he sleep with… octopus habits… poor Idia is covered in bruises :(

Jade and Floyd – they have different sleeping patterns, but a similar “base” for it. They go to sleep at different times, and since they share a room, it’s kind of a problem.  Jade goes to bed pretty much at the same time each night; sometimes because he gets tired, sometimes to spite Floyd a little by saying “I am so tired, can you please turn off the lights already?” Sometimes he genuinely wants to sleep, but it’s Floyd who is annoying him… and every now and then there are nights when Floyd is absolutely exhausted and goes to sleep early, and Jade takes it as an opportunity to troll him back by suddenly deciding to clean a terrarium while humming a song. Why now of all times? A sudden strike of inspiration <3 You can either blame neither of them, or both of them for that: both are aware that they’re annoying the other by not letting him sleep. Anyways, when it comes to their sleeping habits, both are swimmers. They either move their bodies in the same manner as if they’re swimming (sometimes it just looks like Floyd is aggressively humping his bed but that’s not it I swear), or rotate. Because eels love rotating, the second option happens surprisingly often, so both of them are at risk of falling from their beds and rotating on the floor until they bonk each other with their heads and proceed to sleep on the floor. The funny thing is, when they sleep underwater, they’re pretty calm and don’t move as much; I guess they do miss swimming… Floyd is also more of a cuddler than Jade, but Jade is more of a muncher. If Idia sleeps with both of them, the bite marks are going to be Jade’s…

Kalim – it looks like he sleeps without a care in the world, which isn’t really the case because his bad experiences have taught him to wake up very quickly and to react to sudden noises. He is actually pretty tender and capricious as well, if something about his sleeping conditions isn’t perfect, he’s going to react. Every now and then Kalim just goes to Jamil with “hey, Jamil? I can’t sleep” and asks for them to sleep together, or insists of chatting because he isn’t sleepy anyway. Kalim loves not sleeping alone, but talking through the night is something that Kalim absolutely adores. They used to do it a lot when they were kids, and always got in trouble for that (esp considering that Kalim sleeps for the entire day after a sleepless night)…Kalim also clings a lot, but then he suddenly gets too hot and pushes Jamil away without even waking up. But then he gets a bit chiller and starts clinging again. He drools and makes cute little sounds, and anyone other than Jamil would probably find sleeping Kalim as adorable as one would find a babbling toddler. Jamil, however, is very tired…

Jamil – another cautious sleeper, he is almost never 100% asleep, so in a way he is worse than Azul. He does get sleepy though, he is indeed very tired, and it sucks because the tiny window of time before he falls asleep is his only opportunity to get some “me time” and read a book or play games on his phone, but he never does that because he is always exhausted. So after his sleeping preparations, washing his face, brushing his hair and all that stuff, he just wants to sleep… he also hates sleeping with someone, because they (let’s be honest mostly Kalim) would accidentally tug on Jamil’s hair, plus it’s too hot to sleep with someone on a small bed, plus he isn’t really a cuddler anyway. Anyways, he goes to sleep like an hour after Kalim’s sleepy time, and wakes up ~3-4 hours before him. Which isn’t enough time to get a nice rest, but… let’s hope that when Jamil gets to travel and has a hotel room all for himself, he’ll have his first ever nice sleep…

Vil – one of the strictest ones when it comes to his sleeping regimen! Beauty sleep is important, discipline is important, and if one has to work or study during the night, they’re just very bad at time management! Of course, there are days when Vil has to stay up late too… but he hates when it happens; he just wants to have his evening beauty routine, wash his face without a rush, take a nice shower, apply an overnight beauty mask, brush his hair, put on his sleepwear, relax in his bed and have a nice deep sleep from 10:30 PM to 5:30-6:00 AM. Oh, he also wears a sleeping mask and even earplugs sometimes, and also tries to teach himself not to use his phone while in bed. It just ruins his mood, and it’s bad for one’s health too, but he still gives in and scrolls Magicam in bed sometimes. And when it comes to sharing a bed with someone, he is a bit conflicted – it’s not like he hates cuddling, in fact, he enjoys spending the night in his loved one’s embrace, and he doesn’t even get too pissy about feeling hot, sweaty or uncomfortable in that situation, but… I guess Vil just loves having a big bed all for himself lol This is his moment of privacy. So whether he’ll spend the night alone or cuddling depends entirely on his mood that day. He is a very quiet sleeper, and the most that could be heard from him is a cute quiet moan when he’s being disturbed by something.

Rook – does he sleep? Or is he too busy being in everyone’s walls? His roommate doesn’t quite get it: when he falls asleep, Rook isn’t there yet, and when he wakes up, Rook’s already left. He knows that Rook sometimes spends the night with Vil, but… In actuality, Rook does sleep, but he is very strategic about his sleeping schedule. He doesn’t sleep much during the night, 4-5 hours is his max because he has too much to do! Sometimes he takes short 20 minutes powernaps during the day while he’s hiding around. This man is, once again, a creature. Also, even though one would say it’s impossible to catch Rook sleeping, people do see him sleeping sometimes – it’s just that he learned how to do it with his eyes open and while sitting up. Which is… a bit scary, so anyways! When it comes to his bedtime routine, after all the beauty stuff is done, he spends quite a lot of time to admire the pictures that he took and the sketches that he drew of everyone that day – this is a very important ritual to him! But despite that, he actually really enjoys sharing a bed with someone, be it for intimacy or just for cuddling. He hugs and kisses a lot, even when the other person is already asleep. He also loves watching him sleep, which is not creepy at all!

Epel – he shouldn’t use his phone in his bed, but he does! When he manages to sneak it under his blanket, that is. But it’s also not unusual for him to fall asleep while holding a phone and to have it fall on his pretty little face, waking him up. So he tries not to overdo it… he is a very cute sleeper though! He makes sounds, but a little weird ones, like little whines or even tiny mewls sometimes. And sometimes he giggles very cutely! What kind of dreams are you having, Epel?! Anyways, he is a deep sleeper that munches on his pillow sometimes. It’s better than sucking a thumb, and I won’t say that Epel just taught himself out of that fairly recently, but I also won’t say that this isn’t the case. Alright, no more bullying lol I think he sleeps on his side while hugging a blanket. Very adorable, until he starts snoring or swearing in his sleep…

Idia – a lot of times he just falls asleep in front of his PC. Especially now that he doesn’t have Ortho to share a room with, but even when Ortho was his roommate, he’d go to the sleeping mode at some point and tell Idia to go to sleep as soon as possible, Idia would reply with “yeah yeah I’m going” and play games for 2 more hours until falling asleep in his chair… Sometimes he wakes up at like 5 AM, realising that he’s been sleeping for a while, and lazily crawls on top of his bed without even changing into his pjs. He doesn’t really have much of a routine… He also curls up when he’s sleeping, looking like a cute kitten, and you almost feel bad for him somehow when you look at him. Is it because his relaxed face is so pathetic? Or should we feel bad because of how troubled he is when he’s asleep? Anyways, Idia either sleeps for 3-4 hours and naps throughout the day, or sleeps for 10 hours and feels weird when he finally wakes up. He is also super not used to sleeping with someone else and would be uncomfortable, but there is a part of Idia that wouldn’t mind getting backhugged by Azul (until he starts pinching) or… sometimes Idia wonders if Muscle Crimson hugs his possibly existing wife when they sleep.

Ortho – I guess not applicable this time :( But he does consider himself charging in his sleeping mode to be his sleeping routine! Sometimes he “wakes up” earlier than everyone and just flies around the dorm though. Human!Ortho would be a very nice sleeper though, he would change poses like 10 times per night, even kick poor Idia a little. He would prefer to sleep in Idia’s bed even when they aren’t roommates anymore, and he would probably be one of the biggest cuddlers in the cast!

Lilia – no regimen, his sleeping schedule is a mess, pretty similar to Idia’s. He used to be very good at it when he was younger, but now he just plays games all night lol And then after saying good night to his internet friend, he decides to go to bed and… stumbles upon some useless junk in his room and decides to play with it! It’s okay, old people don’t need to sleep all that long, if at all sometimes. It’s not unusual for Lilia to completely ditch sleeping, but he can’t do it for more than one day… When it comes to position, Lilia just falls flat on his bed and starts snoring loudly. He has that dad snore… He also changes positions a lot, and he could kill a guy with how suddenly he moves and rolls. Sometimes he also sleeps upside down, hanging from his bed’s canopy. He also doesn’t mind sleeping with someone, he is pretty used to it! In a lot of ways… but people sleeping with him get punched and kicked unless he hugs them tightly, so not everyone is really up to that.

Silver – after his evening training, his nighttime routine and checking on his father to tell him to go to sleep already, Silver comes back to his room… and sleeps. Even his evening routine doesn’t take that long – I don’t think he uses any products on his face or even brushes his hair much. He washes himself, changes into his pjs and goes to bed… And for the most part he sleeps on his back, looking like a certain cursed princess. There isn’t much to say about the way he sleeps, but he breathes very quietly and cutely, and looks absolutely stunning. His roommates really want to kiss him sometimes… but not a single one dared to do it so far. Silver also doesn’t mind sleeping with someone, but to him it wouldn’t really make s difference one way or another.

Sebek – amazingly strict regimen that he follows dutifully! He’s never late, he always wakes up exactly one minute before his alarm and turns it off! He goes to bed at 11 PM and wakes up at 5 AM! And it doesn’t make him sleepy in the slightest – in fact he has too much energy to burn and too much things to do! That being said, sometimes he wakes up randomly in the middle of the night and has a hard time falling back asleep. I guess he’s just too agitated and overly excited sometimes… But he tries to quiet his thoughts and get back to sleep as soon as possible. When it comes to his sleeping habits, he is surprisingly… chill. One would expect him to be more obnoxious, but he yells in his sleep extremely rarely! Once every 2-3 months… so you never know when it’s going to happen next. He also looks at his liege’s portrait before going to sleep and when he wakes up, this is the first and last thing he sees every day, and it warms his heart and fills him with determination. As for sleeping with someone, he doesn’t mind if he has to do it, but he doesn’t see a point in that either. A silly boy…

Malleus – sometimes it feels like he doesn’t sleep at all. Maybe he doesn’t really need to sleep as much as humans do? Which is kind of ironic, but anyways, it’s not unusual for his bed to be empty at night because Malleus suddenly decided that he isn’t really sleepy, and figured he’d rather go on a walk. Sometimes he just walks around the dorm, but a lot of times he goes outside to get some fresh air. He loves the time of night when everything is quiet and everyone’s asleep, he finds it melancholic… perfect for drowning in deep thoughts, admiring gargoyles and reading. Anyways, when he does sleep, he almost doesn’t look alive: he breathes very quietly and looks so pale and cold… he actually gets much colder during the night, so he’d be naturally drawn to another person’s heat. He was very clingy when Lilia used to sleep in his bed~ He still is sometimes…

[posttexasstressdisorder]

CNN 5/6/2025

Fetterman vows to stay in Senate, dismissing questions over fitness to serve

By Manu Raju and Alison Main, CNN

Updated: 4:41 PM EDT, Tue May 6, 2025

Source: CNN

Sen. John Fetterman roundly dismissed allegations that he’s unfit to serve in the Senate, attacking a recent report detailing claims of erratic behavior as a “hit piece” and vowing to serve out his term.

In an exclusive sit-down interview with CNN in his Senate office, the Pennsylvania Democrat discussed his treatment for depression and insisted that he is following a strict protocol laid out by his doctors. He pushed back on assertions from former and current staffers recently published in New York Magazine that he had been exhibiting reckless and volatile behavior.

“It’s a one-source hit piece, and it involved maybe two or three and anonymous disgruntled staffers saying just absolute false things,” he said.

Fetterman has before been open about receiving treatment for clinical depression and how his tough Senate race in 2022 worsened his mental health. According to New York Magazine, former Fetterman chief of staff Adam Jentleson and former staffers described Fetterman as a senator “who has become almost impossible to work for” and who had a mental health situation more complicated than previously disclosed.

There is already intense interest in primarying Fetterman, and questions over his fitness to serve could amplify that effort. The allegations Fetterman faces also come as some in the Democratic Party have shown increased interest in medical transparency after former President Joe Biden left the last campaign cycle amid questions over his mental acuity and fitness for office.

Fetterman denied he had other mental health issues beyond what he has publicly disclosed, calling it “outrageous” to suggest otherwise.

“My doctors have confirmed that that is not the case,” he said.

“I’ve been very front and center about my … depression, absolutely none of these other things, and it’s like so someone that was trying to accumulate my medical records and leak those things that’s part of this weird grudge for this hit piece,” he said.

In 2023, Fetterman voluntarily checked himself into Walter Reed National Military Medical Center to receive treatment for clinical depression. In 2022, Fetterman had a stroke while running for the Pennsylvania Senate seat he now holds.

The New York Magazine report detailed on the record allegations from a former staffer and anonymous allegations from current staffers that Fetterman might be off his medication.

The senator denied any suggestion that he may not be taking his medication, saying his doctors think he is “great,” and that he has been attending regular check ups and following his wellness regimen.

“It’s incredibly invasive. And why are people talking about anyone’s personal medical things? It’s that, you know, I think most people would agree that’s really, really invasive,” he said.

In the New York Magazine piece, Jentleson said he was going public with his concerns out of fear for the senator’s health and staff around him.

But Fetterman on Tuesday accused Jentleson of holding a “weird grudge.”

“If you’re really concerned about someone, you could say, hey, let’s sit down. Can we talk? It’s not … like going to the media,” he said.

Jentleson is standing by his allegations, telling CNN: “I stand by what I said, and I hope he gets the help he needs.”

Fetterman is eager to put the story behind him.

“Of course” he plans on serving out the remaining four years of his Senate term, he said, adding, “Obviously, everybody understands I was treated for depression.”

Pressed on whether he plans on running for reelection for his competitive seat in 2028, he said, “We’re not talking about ‘28,” and, “Who knows what’s going to happen in ‘28.”

The senator is known to have had notable staff turnover since taking office and some members of his staff have been personally targeted because of his pro-Israel stance. The senator, himself, has faced pushback from the left wing of the party over his position on Israel.

Fetterman on Tuesday alluded to reported concerns about his positions on Israel, as well as how he broke from many of his fellow Democrats over a vote to avert a government shutdown.

“There’s been conflict here. And I’m like, hey, ‘I believe X, Y and Z,’ and I’m not sure why, why people have chose to create these circumstances, but that’s where we’re at, and it’s just a hit piece,” he said.

On his driving habits, a source of concern detailed in the article, Fetterman did not deny that he got in a car crash last year. But he said the details shared in the story, including that he told a staffer he had been asleep at the wheel, were “absolutely not true, or half…half truths,” and insisted he is a safe driver.

Fetterman thanked his Senate colleagues for their “support,” but would not say whether he talked to Senate Minority Leader Chuck Schumer since the story was published.

“I think if anyone’s concerned with leader Schumer, I don’t think…the article isn’t one of them, you know, 99 problems, I don’t think that really is,” he said.

See Full Web Article

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------

This is already not ending well...

[theavengerofgold]

INFINITY WAR SNAP: DISCHARGE SUMMARY AND PROGNOSIS

Admission Date: October 17, 2023 Discharge Date: December 2, 2023 Consulting Services: Neurology, Physical Medicine and Rehabilitation, Burn Surgery, Psychiatry

SEE CLINICAL DESCRIPTION OF INJURIES

SEE NEUROLOGY CONSULT

[cw: clinical description of burns, brain impairment]

⸻

Mr. Stark sustained extensive burns to right upper extremity, shoulder, face, and torso due to direct exposure to a high-energy cosmic discharge device (“Infinity Gauntlet”). He initially presented with systemic shock and inhalation injury requiring resuscitation. Early imaging revealed a right MCA territory infarct, likely secondary to hypoperfusion in the context of massive systemic inflammatory response.

During acute hospitalization he required fluid resuscitation, ventilatory support for 48 hours, debridement and skin grafting for right upper extremity and thorax, and management of severe pain.

Transferred to Inpatient Rehabilitation Unit on hospital day 21. Over a 4-week rehab stay, he underwent intensive PT/OT/ST for:

Left-sided neglect and hemianopia.

Left upper extremity weakness and mild spasticity.

Gait training with left circumduction.

Emotional prosody retraining.

Cognitive therapy for emerging insight and attention.

Pain management and burn wound care.

Psychiatry was consulted for depressive symptoms and insomnia. He was started on sertraline with good tolerance, engaged in counseling for trauma and adjustment.

Family training was provided for safe mobility, neglect cueing strategies, and emotional support planning.

CONDITION AT DISCHARGE:

Alert and oriented, insight improved but still partial regarding neglect.

Speaks fluently, but with mild flattening of emotional tone.

Left visual field loss persistent.

Left-sided neglect improved but still evident without cues.

Mild left upper extremity weakness, uses adaptive techniques.

Ambulates independently with single-point cane, mild left circumduction.

Burns healing well with graft take; dressings managed daily.

Mood stable on SSRI, mild residual depression.

Pain controlled on oral regimen.

DISCHARGE PLAN/FOLLOW UP:

Outpatient Neurology clinic in 2 weeks.

Outpatient PM&R and Burn Surgery clinics as scheduled.

Occupational/Physical Therapy 3x/week.

Speech-Language Pathology 2x/week for prosody and neglect strategies.

Neuropsychology for cognitive rehab and PTSD-focused counseling.

Psychiatry follow-up for medication management.

PROGNOSIS:

Moderate impairment expected long-term, with continued recovery likely over 6–12 months.

Persistent left homonymous hemianopia and mild neglect likely.

Good potential for independence with assistive devices and training.

High risk of depressive symptoms; counseling critical.

[gettingfrilly]

Can't get you out of my Ed

Chapter one of... 39 chapters lmao. This fic will kill me and I'll be damned if I don't take some of you down with me. Read it here or on ao3. Super mega thanks to @fish-bowl-2 for betaing and also for giving feedback on my massive outline.

--------------------------------------------------

“Ppbbbbbbththtbbbhththtthhhhh.”

“Dude.”

“Dude yourself.” Eddy mutters, not caring if Kevin objects to his bored mouth noises. What else is he supposed to do? It’s Wednesday, five pm, and raining. No one's been in the candy store for hours, and ain’t no one gonna show up before they close at six. So he stands here bored out of his skull, full weight propped against the counter with his face squished in his hands, elbows velcroed to the permanently sticky wooden surface. He keeps his eyes where they’ve been glued for the last hour, which is directly on the nostalgic kitsch wall clock with plastic lollipops for hands and pounded sheet metal with a scene from some 50’s style soda shop superimposed on it for a face. It goes well with the completely non-functional jukebox in the corner, the rows of dusty, empty, retro soda bottles lining the shelves on the wall opposite the front door, and the 40 year old ice cream machine behind the counter that’s been out of order since last summer. Eddy had felt giddy when Kevin first got him a job here his freshman year, tickled by his younger self’s hypothetical jealousy over how easily he could pocket a jawbreaker here and there. The garish clashing of the puke green tiles and pastel pink walls had filled him with bittersweet memories of childhood, familiar and welcoming for a first time job.

Now he just finds the whole store ugly. 

“You could, ya know. Work.” Kevin suggests. “Clean something. Stock something. Anything other than standing there with your thumb up your ass.”

“Oh? And you can’t?” He asks while side eyeing Kevin, who is also currently standing around with his thumb up his ass. More specifically, he’s leaning backwards against the displays behind the counter, wide shoulders slouched as his arms dangle at his sides. The clean hairline of his crew cut frames his wide, blocky face with sharp angles. He’s been made up of solid, sturdy shapes since he started playing for the varsity team in his junior year, and his workout regimen has further defined his muscles in the years since. Eddy wouldn’t exactly describe him as beefy, but his build is athletic for sure. He’s also classically handsome, Eddy begrudgingly admits to himself, though he’s not really his type. Too much of a normie for his tastes, with his basic sense of style and outfit compiled of store brand athletic wear. Guy shops at Old Navy for sure. Well, more like his mom shops for him there.

“I’m the boss. I’ve got underlings to do that kind of stuff for me.” An annoyingly smug smile graces his shovel shaped chin, and Eddy can’t help but grind his teeth.

“For your information, bossman, ” he hisses the title, “shelves: dusted. Floors: mopped. Inventory: stocked. Windows: windexed. Hell, I even ordered the lollipops by color out of fucking boredom. There is truly not a single thing left to do.”

Kevin hums and scratches his ten acre chin. “Oh. Well. Pbth.”

“My thoughts exactly.”

‘ Come now, with your cleaning skills, surely you left something amiss. Did you wipe down the floor trim? Deep clean the register? I see plenty of snack crumbs wedged between those sticky keys. And you didn’t even mention the employee bathroom, for heaven’s sake. ’

“Shut up.” He mumbles under his breath. “Huh?”

“Nothing. Hey, how’s Nazz doing?” Kevin’s and Nazz’s shaky relationship isn’t exactly his favorite can of worms to open, but he’s starting to get bored enough to peel his eyelids off of his face, so he better strike up some kind of conversation. 

“ Man- ” Yup, here we go, “I don’t get what’s up with her. Ever since she moved to Buffalo she’s been acting all different and weird. Dunno what happened to the Nazz we used to know.”

‘ She grew up. Which is something you may want to look into yourself, Kevin. 19 years old and no interest in pursuing a higher education or a greater calling like our dear Nazz has. Tut tut.’

“Yeah, it’s almost like she cares about shit now or something.”

“Exactly,” Kevin bemoans, completely missing Eddy’s sardonic tone. “I don’t get all the polisci stuff she talks about. I’m just not a political guy, ya know? Why can’t things just go back to being simple between us? College wrecks people, man.”

On one hand, even Eddy can tell Kevin’s being pig-headed about this. On the other hand, he can relate on a very painful, squishy, sore, and tender level.

‘Well you are quite pig-headed yourself.’

“She just outgrew this small town shit. We all should. I know I’m getting out of here as soon as I graduate.”

“Speak for yourself. I like it here.” Kevin mutters while crossing his arms petulantly.

“Of course you do, mister former high school quarterback nepo baby. You already got shit made here. Doesn’t your dad own the candy factory now?”

“Vice president. But yeah, he’ll own it soon. And he’s thinking of expanding. But what are you complaining about? Aren’t you all set up to inherit your old man’s dealership? That place makes decent dosh.”

“I’d rather eat nails.” The words come grinding out of his mouth as if it were already full of sharp, pointy metal.

“What? No way, man, you used to brag about that place all the time. Said it was your legacy and that you were gonna make it the hottest place in the county to get a used car.”

“Times change.” That’s the only explanation he’s willing to offer.

Kevin just shrugs, much to Eddy’s gratitude. That’s probably the best thing about being friends with Kevin; guy doesn’t ask questions. Makes him a solid person to vent to.

‘Especially if you’re allergic to discussing your feelings.’

With a long suffering groan, Eddy literally peels himself off of the old counter to do another useless perimeter search of the shop. He knows he still won’t find anything to do, but at least it’ll get his body moving. His sneakers squeak against the freshly mopped floors (so bored he even got out the mop, for chrissake…) as he eyes the displays, watching his reflection warp and transform from one glass container to the next, an endless hall of funhouse mirrors mocking him with his own boredom, irritation, and overall misery. His fault for scrubbing them all until they were spotless. The hole punched cardboard pallet that holds a variety of different brands of lollipops is just as hue spectrum oriented as he left it, so this time he goes for ordering them by size and shape instead. Well, that killed two minutes. Walk by the freezers, rearrange  some mismatched soda bottles he missed before. 30 seconds. Scrape a fleck of taffy off of one of the sliding door handles. 20 seconds. Stare at the wall for five seconds. Bang his head against it. Another second. Bang. Another second. Bang. Another second. Bang.

“I’m taking a smoke break!” He calls loudly over the shelves in the direction of the front counter, not waiting for Kevin to respond before frantically scrambling towards the backroom. He nearly trips over a broom as he bursts into the cramped space, swearing at it uselessly as he stumbles over to his locker. It gets jammed as usual, the damn thing, Eddy jiggling the handle with a growl before he finally tears it open. The hood of his windbreaker catches on one of the locker’s internal hooks, causing Eddy to shout obscenities until he finally shakes it loose and shoves his arms into the sleeves. He stomps towards the back door and bumps it open with his hip as he wrestles with the zipper, getting himself encased once he steps outside into the muggy July evening air.

The door slams shut behind him as he huddles under the small overhang of the dirty green awning adorned above the back door, fishing his pack of camel menthols out of the pocket of his windbreaker. The hush of rain against the pavement and rhythmic pounding of droplets plunking against the rusty metal of the awning harmonize well together, creating a nice soundscape to back up the click click click of his lighter. He mutters swears under his breath like a prayer, internally praising glory hallelujah once the cig balanced between his lips lights and he can breath in deep and slow, the mint flavoring tickling his nose hairs and soothing the burn of hot smoke in his windpipe. Smoke billows from his mouth and nose after he’s held in his lungful for as long as he can, his exhale audible and pointed heavenward, smoke catching and lingering on the underside of the sheet metal above. 

‘Those will kill you.’

“The sooner the better.” Eddy mumbles, letting gravity pull his loosening body down against the wooden door behind him, desperate for a paint job. He takes another grateful drag as he watches the rain bounce and slide off of trashbags, forming muddied puddles in the potholes below. The hit of nicotine puts a fuzzy blanket over the constantly firing nerve endings in his brain, making his eyes droop as he fights back a yawn. Double D doesn’t know what he’s talking about, calling nicotine a stimulant. Smokes practically put him to sleep. 

He sneers down at the ground. What’s he got to even do these days other than work, smoke, sleep, repeat? The only thing he has to look forward to are the occasional phone calls he makes to Ed at the military school his shithead mom shipped him off to last summer before they all started their junior year. Double D and Ed were inconsolable that day, clinging to each other and sobbing as Ed’s dad silently packed his red commodore with sparse necessities, the rest of Ed’s belongings in boxes marked for the salvation army. The memory still makes Eddy’s eyes burn, the same way they did that day as he blinked to hold back his tears, repeating to the other two that they’d call, they’d write, they’d visit, and once senior year was done in two years, the three of them would be out of here. Double D would definitely get accepted to some fancy shmancy school on a fancy shmancy scholarship, and the two of them would follow along, working whatever jobs available so that their combined income with Double D’s scholarship funds could net them a nice apartment in whatever fancy shmancy city Double D went to for school. They’d be free of this pimple on the map of America called Peach Creek, free from their families, free from public school, free to be themselves. There’d be a queer scene, he told Double D. They’d be accepted there, he told him. It wouldn’t be like it is out here in the boonies. They wouldn’t have to hide.

Well, his plan may have less people in it now, but he’s sticking to it. He can’t stand the boredom anymore, can’t stand the confinement. If he spends one more summer afternoon staring at his bedroom ceiling, has one more shift during the dead hours of the candy store, has to give his dad one more excuse as to why he’s not dating anyone now that he’s got a paycheck, he’s going to burst out of his own skin like some kind of insectoid, brain sucking monster from one of Ed’s B-rated black and white horror flicks and suck the noggins of everyone in a five mile radius. He’ll get out of this shithole come hell or high water. He has to get out.

‘And go where, exactly?’

‘Anywhere but here.’

‘To do what?’

‘Live. Breathe. Stretch out and run around and scream and cry and shout and kick and hit and go and go and go.’

‘With who?’

‘Ed. Or no one. Who cares.’

‘You’d be alone.’

‘I’ve always been alone.’

‘That’s not true. You know that’s not true.’

Water streams from the corners of the awning, creating a puddle dangerously close to his Air Force 1s. An errant raindrop lands right on top of the toe of his left sneaker, and he grumbles as he bends over to swipe it away, cursing himself for not looking at the weather report before putting these on. He curses louder when a chunk of ash falls from his cig and takes up residence where the water droplet just vacated, grabbing it from his mouth to hold it out to the side as he frantically brushes off his shoe.

‘Please, Eddy, be careful! Think of how much money your mother spent on such a frivolous purchase.’

Eddy snarls, sick to death of this incessant nagging. “Just shut uuUGHH!”

The smack of the wooden door against his ass throws him completely off balance, staring down at his shoes one second then catching himself on his hands and gazing at a puddle inches from his face the next. Adrenaline rushes through his body, making his lungs seize up and his eyes go wide, the rain falling on the back of his head feeling far colder than it should be on a warm July evening. He keeps himself propped up on one hand as he swivels around to identify his attacker, blinking owlishly when he sees Kevin standing in the lit doorway, giving Eddy the same, wide eyed look.

“Dude. You okay?”

Anger quickly intermingles with his gut-dropping fear, gritting his teeth as he pushes himself back onto his feet. “Watch where you’re going, shovel chin!”

Kevin places one hand on his hip while he holds the door open with the other, expression blasé. “Doors are for opening, man. Anyway, we’re closing up. Just wasting money at this point.”

He finally catches his breath, raising his cigarette to take another calming drag, only to feel something unpleasantly cold and soggy touching his lips. Damn it. His hand must have landed in a puddle. He groans and pushes his now wet hair out of his face.

“These ain’t fucking cheap.” He grumbles, flicking the unlit stub to the ground.

“Did you even hear me, man?”

“Huh? Oh.” Calmer and less distracted now, his brain finally catches up with what Kevin said. “Yeah, great idea, bossman!” The title is used in a much more jolly manner than before, giving Kevin a pat on the back and leaving a stubby, wet handprint behind as he pushes past him and back into the backroom to grab the rest of his stuff. He kicks off his nice sneakers to trade them for the ratty back ups he keeps in his locker, stepping into the worn pair as he puts his multi-colored Nikes into his water proof backpack for safe keeping.

Kevin sneers and murmurs something Eddy is sure was insulting as he looks behind himself and at the back of his shirt. “I’ve got to count money and lock up if you wanna stick around to help-”

Eddy’s locker slams abruptly, echoing loudly in the small space as he slings his drawstring bag over his shoulders and puts his hood up in quick, jerky motions. “Bye, seeya later, hasta la vista, sayonara, annyeong.” He half-jogs out of the back room before finishing his goodbyes, ignoring Kevin’s jeering as he slips through the door to the front room. He continues his half jog past the candy displays, snagging a jawbreaker and shoving it into his pocket next to his smokes before heading out the door and back out into the rain.

He breathes in a deep breath of freedom as he stretches his arms out to his sides and then over his head, making his way back to the cul de sac with a skip in his step. The world is his oyster now that he’s off of work. Now he can… he can… well.

The skip turns into a slow trudge as Eddy remembers he doesn’t actually have anything post work to look forward to, mood sinking further and further with each dark and empty store he passes by. Looks like Kevin wasn’t the only one who decided to close up early; all of downtown is dead. And it’s just not the cafe, the butcher shop, and the shoe store that are dark. It’s too early for the street lights to come on, but the sky is thick with heavy rain clouds, keeping the sunlight prisoner behind the bubbling veil of black and gray. His eyes turn down to the wet cement of the sidewalk with its divots and potholes, floating cigarette butts in the puddles that formed within them, scowling at his feet as they pointlessly move beneath him. What’s he even going home to? Another evening zoning out in front of the TV? Maybe lying upside down on his bed and listening to saccharine sweet slow dance songs? Then whatever he does will just be followed by chain smoking in the backyard until he’s tired enough to pass out as soon as his head hits the pillow, welcoming oblivion as an alternative to being left alone with his thoughts. It’s the same damn thing every day. And it’ll keep being the same damn thing every day until he gets out of here or dies. Dying may be the more convenient option at this point. It’d be a lot easier than having to finish high school before he beats it. All he has to do is wait for a car to come by and then jump out in front of it.

But no cars come. No one coming, no one leaving, a town stuck in stasis, the white noise enough to deafen him. His shoes are getting soaked. He’s gonna get cold feet.

Christ, he needs to quiet his fucking mind before he ends up as roadkill. He reaches into his pocket, fingertips brushing against the cool metal of his lighter before he finds his pack of camels, grasping onto it like a lifeline. He takes out the light with it, shaking a cig loose from the pack and into his waiting hand. He balances it between his pointer and middle finger, bringing it up to press it between his lips and under his hood so he can attempt to light it-

Only to immediately pull his hand away when he tastes blood on his tongue.

“The fuck?” He squeaks out, high pitched and startled. He looks at the cig and finds fresh red blood smeared on the paper and filter, but that’s not what’s most alarming; what has him wince and hiss under his breath is the sight of his hand, dark, slimy globules clotted together in the center with dried and flaky trails of blood running down between his fingers, some of it gathered under his nails, in his nail beds, and around the gold band on his ring finger. Rain splashes down into his open palm, the droplets saturating themselves with blood before they roll down the sides of Eddy’s hand and down his wrist, leaving trails of pink behind. He swipes his thumb gingerly over his palm and squints, scowl deepening when he discovers the cut beneath, small but deep. 

Damn it. Must have happened when he fell. Probably glass from a broken bottle. How did he not feel it? Stupid Kevin. Stupid door. He clicks his tongue and keeps walking, placing the cig back between his lips; he’s not gonna waste another one of these. It brings him minimal relief once it’s lit, his frayed nerves further agitated by the site, smell, and taste of his own blood. He’s had e-fucking-nough of that for one life time. Thankfully the shops start to become far and few between, with residential houses looming on the horizon. He’ll walk in through the back door to his room before his mom gets a chance to see his hand and starts freaking out. He’ll clean his hand, dry off his feet, and get out of this fucking rain. That’s something to sort of look forward to. Isn’t it?

When he turns the corner of rethink avenue several minutes later, all thoughts of the creature comforts of home disperse like a warren of rabbits intruded on by a fox. His cig, burned down to a stub at this point, dangles from his parted lips, eyes frozen on the looming portend of the past come to haunt him currently parked in his own fucking driveway. He’s freezing suddenly, all heat sapped out of him like someone pulled the plug, lungs becoming a vacuum as cosmic background radiation burns within them, singed by his only source of heat. It’s like he’s falling again, shoved from behind and just barely managing to protect his face from scraping the pavement. An unknown attacker from behind, the familiar sound of him breathing through his teeth.

He tastes blood on his tongue.

The cigarette butt falls from his lips as he turns away from the sight of the whale shaped trailer in front of his house, breaking out into a jog to the only other house he can think to go to, nestled right on the corner he just turned. His bedroom lights are on. His parents, as usual, aren’t home. He misses him with an ache deeper than anything else he’s felt in a long time.

He hopes Double D actually lets him in.

[lazyscience]

DCC Challenge, Day 18

Time To Floor Collapse: 12 days, 5.75 hours (give or take)

Time for the recap episode!

Crawler @quartzandsundry

New Achievement! Are You In Here For Drugs?

Whoopsie-doodle, someone's been a naughty crawler and earned themselves a trip to the liaison's office! Fuckin' mudskipper narcs, they are the opposite of fun. FUN-KILLERS!

Say hi to Orren for me. At least it's not that twat Harbinger.

Reward: A silver Twist and Shout box! Inside, an Enchanted Leopard Vest of Misdirection, granting +10% Charisma and +5 to Sleight of Hand and Deception, and 2 potions of Bard's Golden Throat for all your distracting public performance needs!

Crawler @kathrynalexao3:

New Achievement! What's Cooler than Cool? Ice Cold!

So did everyone know that blood bounces on ice? I'm not sure I knew that before. It needs to be really fucking cold, but as you just demonstrated, it sure does! Does it count as ice fishing? There was a Hole, and fish, and bait, although in this instance not a crawler, but I think we let that one stand!

Reward: A gold Ice Ice Baby Box! Inside, an enchanted Diamond Tiara of the Ice Queen! +10 to Charisma, and 3 casts per day of Investiture of Ice (protective sphere of cold, radius of 3 meters + 0.1 meter per 5 intelligence, caster is immune to cold and heat based attacks and has a radius equal to the sphere on the ground of ice, caster is immune to terrain effects, and can cast Cone of Ice at will. Duration: 15 minutes, cooldown: casts must be 4 hours apart, no more than 3 in 30 hour period) Also includes a tome of Hellish Rebuke for warming up after!

Crawler @king-ofconfusion:

New Achievement! Love (Vampire) is Strange!

Charisma is a hell of a drug, and as far as mobs are concerned, yours is black tar heroin! All you need is love, when love is tanking damage for you AND killing mobs at the same time. That's the kind of love I need, baby! Well, that and the kind that understands the value of a good pedicure.

Reward: A gold Bad Romance box! Inside, a tome of Crown of Iron, an enchanted pendant of +5 to Hypnotic Pattern, and a box of Mana Chocolates (variable restoration rates, up to 2 can stack with Mana Potion without toxicity)

Crawler @oreniaa:

New Achievement! What Are You In For? Drugs!

Look who's waiting in Time Out for THEIR turn with the vice principal! Unfortunately, yours is Harbinger. I apologize in advance for the screaming. What is UP with the Plenty, man? Fight the annoying, annoying power? BLEEEEEEEEEEAT!

Reward: A silver Abe Frohman Box! Includes an enchanted silver Mask of Reality Break, allowing the wearer to assert one patent untruth per day without being questioned by intelligent mobs, elites or fellow crawlers! (don't try this shit on Club Desperado or Club Vanquisher employees, however, unless you want your membership revoked with extreme prejudice). Also includes a gift certificate worth 1000 gold to Des Baucheries, the Desperado Club's premiere fine dining establishment, conferring buffs to Constitution and poison resistances for 30 hours!

Crawler @cairfrey :

New Achievement! CrawlCon, Day 2!

6:00 AM - Crawler Fitness Fun Featuring Crawler Cairfrey! Paid panel to ask Crawler Cairfrey any questions you like about the training regimen that keeps them fighting fit, and see her navigate a paid course from VirtuaLife Training Academy, For All Your Mercenary Needs!

9:00 AM - Earth, Wind and Fire: Elementary Elemental Attacks and Defenses! Panel with Crawler Cairfrey, Waterkangaroo and EvilPhrog!

12:00 PM - Delicious in Dungeon! Foraging Dos and Don'ts with Cairfrey, Sooziepenguino and former crawler Quint!

4:00 PM - A-tier Meet N'Greet! 1 signed autograph from Cairfrey or Waterkangaroo on your choice of promotional material - still photo, CrawlCon program, or genuine reclaimed Earth paper (highly collectible!)

Reward: You're alive, self-promoting and five-finger discounted yourself an environmental update, and you want MORE?

...well, ok, this IS boring as shit and your PR rep's idea, not yours, so fair is fair. How about a Gold Fan Box? Your groupies up at the con can vote on the contents and you'll find out later!

heh. heh. heh.

Crawler @deathdovesong:

New Achievement! Invisible Man, Sleeping In Your Bed!

Crawler, your stealth is so out of hand your PARTY doesn't even know where to find you. Which certainly makes you hard to hit, but be sure to do something REALLY splashy to get your recap footage. Subtle doesn't sell action figures! And it's really hard to capture on a t-shirt.

Reward: a silver Look Ma, No Hands box! Includes 10 Surefires, a Ghillie Hat of Enhanced Vision, providing +5 to ranged weapon skills, a box of Bandages, and a pair of tinted glasses (no abilities, just dark)

Crawler @clearbrightlight:

New Achievement! Bullet with Butterfly Wings!

There's a lot of intellectualizing out there about form that follows function and aesthetics, and while there's a certain satisfaction in brute force, the most elegant solution is the one that has a lot to recommend in terms of bang for the buck AND style points.

You, crawler, understand the potential of a handful of scraps turning into a beautiful crazy quilt of devastation. And that's why you'll always be one of my favorites have a following among the discerning!

Reward: A gold Antony Gaudi box! Includes an enchanted Brooch of the Slate Butterfly, adding +4 to the Light on Your Feet skill and +1 to Intelligence, and a Club Vanquisher pass!

Crawler @lazyscience:

New Achievement: Still Breathing!

Garbage out, check. Laundry, check. Workout, check. Magical item crafting? You finally found a free set of size 8s, now get your ass to work! Quest, see if you can figure out wtf you did with your stash of postcards for carpet bombing elected officials.

Reward: Dirty chai from the local coffee place and the satisfaction of getting shit done.

Now get out there, crawlers, and kill, kill, kill!

ATTENTION, all partied crawlers! Don't forget to update me on mobs, quests, or parties (defined at link) so I can award you achievements! Please let me know either in the replies to this post, reblogging with additions, or hit my askbox/DMs!

(please, do this, even with small and silly mobs/quests, it makes giving achievements so much easier!)

[whumperhive]

PT51734 - Rules

@bbu-on-the-side

Contents: Guard Dog whumpee, Pet whump(?), Nonhuman Whumpee, Male whumper (offscreen)

Takes place in the same universe as Double A! Woagh, two Days in one?? Amazing!!!

They didn’t mean it.

Truly, they didn’t.

They had rules, a routine, everything good and simple. Something a pet should know.

Something they should have known.

9:00 AM, sharp, they were to patrol the grounds. Usually they were paired with another Guard, something about having a pair of eyes behind you, Mrs. Altringer had said.

The morning was cool, the dew on the blades of grass from the mist that was fading in the slices of sun rays that cast from between the trees that surrounded the estate. Elody made a mental note to inform Mr. Altringer about the height before it got too out of control. He liked it being at a certain height, and they knew that this was becoming a bit too long.

Their ears twitched as they looked around, a small cloud of wariness settling over them at the feeling of absence behind them. Markus was sick this morning, Miranda and Orion were patrolling the other side of the estate, and August…

They pushed aside the sickly feeling pooling into their stomach at the thought of the fellow Guard. He had made the mistake of becoming distracted a few weeks ago when the Altringers were out; poor little Anastacia had nearly become lost in the large market they had attended. The last time they had seen him was the night they had come back; the whites of his eyes visible, canine ears pinned against his head, muzzle all too-tight around his face and brows pinched in pain. He had been dragged to the back, Mr. Altringer’s booming voice nearly snarled as he berated him.

Elody took a deep breath, feeling the collar around their neck tighten as they did. The familiar feeling brought them back to reality, brushing away the memories. Of course he’d be fine, training was necessary with the ownership of pets. Still, they had remembered their days down in the basement, begging cries going unheard, the gnawing ache in their stomach, the itchy feeling of drying blood against aching wounds struggling to scab over. They clench and unclenched their hands, focusing on the thudding of their hooves beneath them, tilting their ears this way and that to analyze the surroundings. Not the time to get lost in thought, not now.

Instead, they focused on their schedule, reminding themself of the rules given to them by Mrs. Altringer.

9:00 AM: Patrol the Front of the Estate.

They will follow every command anyone of the Altringer family gives them. Without questioning.

10:00 AM: Take post at the front gates to the estate.

Speak when spoken to. Dogs do not have voices.

12:00 PM: Return home for lunch.

Keep a strict workout regimen, Mr. Altringer has provided you and the others with what will be acceptable.

12:30 PM: Take post at the back gates of the estate.

Muzzles will be used at our discretion, it will be our choice if we feel the need to —

Though the reminders are calming, familiar, they accidentally distract. Elody comes-to when their body instinctually jolts at the sound of a branch snapping as if a gunshot had gone off. Their eyes snap to the foliage close to the house, grand bushes blooming with flowers that smelled so strongly they weren’t sure if the noise was a stray animal or a threat.

Ears pinning back, they went on the defensive, stomping towards the noise. The noises alerting to others unseen, nonexistent. They feel the need to lower their head, shake around the small antlers resting in front of their ears towards an unknown threat. They don’t, of course, but the feeling, the instinct, the need, is still there like something heavy hanging in their chest.

Suddenly, another snap, this time to the right. Their eyes hone in on where it comes from, closer to Mrs. Altringer’s garden. The lady of the house hates having it messed with, and that sends a spike of fear through them like a dagger. They grit their teeth behind thin lips as they approach, heart hammering in their chest. It feels strange, wrong, to be the one sneaking up on a threat. They feel the need to turn tail and hide, to run away from whatever this was, unseen, unknown. All of it screamed of danger, danger — run run run run and hide and flee and protect and snap and bite —

They dig their hand into the bushes covered in sickly-sweet smelling, soft pink flowers and yank back something screeching and kicking and yelling. They let loose a growl that comes from their throat, unfamiliar and unnatural feeling to use.

Their vision is tunneling as they throw the figure to the side, nose and eyebrows pinched and teeth shown in an attempt to seem threatening as they stomp a hoof once more. They can feel their tail displaying the striking white against black to warn, for a nonexistent group to run and hide and find safety.

“Dude, what the fuck?!”

Elody blinks and their eyes clear as their heart drops.

Fuck.

Oh, fuck.

Laying on the ground is the eldest son of the Altringers, Elias, holding his arm and face wrenched in a pained, shocked scowl. Dirt is smeared on his freckled face, jet black hair that usually is clean and shining covered in leaves and petals. The penned up suit he usually wears is discarded for a hoodie and sweatpants, now littered with a few tears.

But what makes them freeze is the cut on his cheek, a thin crimson line dripping down to his chin.

“Oh — Oh goodness, I didn’t —”

“Shut up.” The order is followed by their jaw snapping shut with an audible click, a barely-hidden wince as they bite down on their tongue.

“Do you know what you just did?!” His voice is raised now, and he should quiet down, Mrs. Altringer needs her rest and Anastacia wakes in an hour and God only knows how long they’ve been out; they need to get to the front gates, that’s at 10, and they need to go because that’s rule 6, to be on time, and they follow rules: rule 1, rule 2, rule 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 7 days are in a week and 4 weeks in a month and 5 months until —

Elody nearly falls to the ground as they’re manhandled, pin striking down their skull as Elias grips one of their antlers harshly, pulling on the outermost tine. Even if he’s told them to shut up, they’re begging, blabbering like some child about to be punished, chest rising and falling in heaves as they stumble over tile. Their hooves aren’t made for such surfaces, they’re meant outside, they’re meant to be guarding, it’s their purpose, please, please!

“P - Please, I didn’t mean i - it! I thought y — an outsider! I thought you were an intruder — please, please, sir! Please, it was an accident, please!”

Their pleads go unheard, and soon it’s back to the darkness, the cold, the aching.

And what irony was it that their company was one and the same with them.

Rulebreakers.

[youdontownme22]

I have over a 100 lbs to lose and going to follow a fasting regimen.

I’ve fasted before and made it to 72 hours and it’s honestly a mental thing.

My first long fast I’m hoping to go for a week and see if I can go a month, depending how I feel next week.

Outside of fasting I will make whole food choices.

I started at today, March 12 at 6:30 PM. Now… let’s see if I can drink only water and black coffee until March 19.

SW: 360-ish

CW: 315.7

GW: 175

[reviews-of-health-products]

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