#one side can be sprayed to keep it damp and the other dry

[cyanocoraxx]

I need you to know, I am getting a centipede because I keep seeing yours on my dash.

(don't worry though, I'm an experienced bug keeper and did the research to know what I'm getting into, your posts definitely tipped the scales though)

i'm so happy to hear that! how exciting! :D what species are you thinking of getting??

if you'd like any advice or tips on their care do let me know, i'd be happy to help and if you have questions that i can't answer i can put you in touch with people who are way more experienced than me. <3

+ gyomei for tax

[em1i2a3]

Glide

Pairing: College AU! Frat Boy!Bob Floyd x Fem!Reader!

Summary: When your friends drag you to a frat house party during spring break you weren’t expecting much, but when you go to seek out a moment of silence and end up accidentally stepping into someone’s room, you end up forming an odd connection with one of the fraternity members. (Sequel is ‘Fantasy’)

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI! Smut, Fluff, Some Angst, Mentions of Alcohol and Drug Use, Reader gets a little anxious in the crowd and mentions agoraphobia, Swearing, Reader has beef with one of the fraternity members, Reader is a Chemistry Major, Bobs in Aerospace Engineering

Smut Warnings: Unprotected P in V Sex (wrap it up), Fingering, Oral Sex (Female and Male Receiving), Handjob, Bob is Inexperienced (but he’s enthusiastic to try everything), Bob talks a lot during sexual acts, Dirty Talk, Praise/Worship Kink, Breast Play, Making Out and Dry Humping, Bob is super sensitive.

Author’s Note: Frat Boy Bob y’all. This was technically a request, but I dashed away with it and truly came to enjoy this so so much. Also just as a side note lol, Frats aren’t really a huge thing where I am, they’re so subdued it’s not even funny, though if you go to party schools you’re definitely going to get an experience and a half (I did not go to a party school so I’m going off of my friends experiences at this point 😂)

Word Count: 17,352

”Tell me again why the hell we’re going to this party?” Your voice cut through the late evening air, low and flat, edged with irritation as you pulled your windbreaker tighter across your chest. The nylon rasped beneath your fingers, a poor excuse for protection against the sharp spring breeze. The smell of your dorm clung to it–laundry detergent, stale coffee, and whatever perfume your roommate had sprayed on in the vicinity of it.

The sidewalk beneath your sneakers was still damp from a passing rain shower. Faint streaks of moisture glimmered on the concerte, catching the fractured yellow light from the street lamps above. You stepped around a crushed beer can and kept your head down, following the clacking of heels and bare legs that were moving a few paces ahead of you.

Jess, Monica, and Sue, your friends by proximity. You had met them during welcome week and never managed to shake them–even though you didn’t really want to. They existed in a different orbit entirely, but they took you in with open arms and tried to crack the shell that you had built around yourself. They were the people that convinced you that college didn’t have to be all about studying and going to class and that it could also be fun too, despite the hefty tuition bill.

The girls had built a three person wall along the sidewalk, pushing against each other as they chatted and laughed about something you hadn’t heard, keeping balance on their heels, skipping cracks in the pavement. They were dressed like the party was going to be a runway show instead of an absolute chaotic mess. Jess wore a short leather skirt and a cropped corset top under a trench coat she wasn’t planning to keep on. Her hair was up, slick and sharp, gold hoops brushing her jaw. Monica had on a silver halter top that sparkled under every porch light you passed, paired with high-waisted jeans and glossy lipstick that matched the cherry polish on her nails. Sue, as always, looked like she’d stepped out of an editorial spread–draped in a backless silk dress and strappy heels that should’ve been impractical, but somehow weren’t.

You, on the other hand, were the outlier–and it was obvious.

Black low-rise jeans hugged your hips, the waistband dipping just enough to expose a sliver of your stomach where your t-shirt stopped. The top was fitted and a plain navy blue, not short enough to be bold, and not long enough to be considered modest–though it was enough to remind you of the cold every time the wind shifted. Your black sneakers were scuffed at the toes, laces uneven, but they were practical for the walk home.

Technically, you were dressed for the weather, but standing next to your friends made you feel underdressed in a different way. Not because you didn’t look good, but because you just didn’t meet the same standard they had set for the group.

Your question had interrupted whatever conversation they were tangled in. Jess glanced over her shoulder first, her earrings catching the light at the turn.

”Well, Jake personally invited us,” She explained, like that was a valid reason, “And you’ve been holed up in your room almost all of spring break studying. You needed to get out. Breathe some fresh air, get social contact apart from us…Maybe drink something that hits a little better than three iced coffees a day.” You groaned immediately at the name Jake, ignoring the rest of the comments she had made about what you had been doing during the break.

”Not that meathead…If I knew that moron invited you guys, I would’ve locked my door and turned off my phone.” Monica sighed.

”C’mon, Y/N, he’s not that bad.” You let out a short laugh–dry and humorless.

”He’s a douchebag. And he thinks I’m a cockblock because I don’t let him get handsy with you guys when you’re half a drink in. I think he’s exactly that bad.” Jess gave a low laugh.

”He’s just a flirt.” You hummed.

”Right, and I’m just a buzzkill.” You muttered. Sue looked over at you now.

”We appreciate the defense. Really. But tonight…We’ve got a bit of a bet going.” You raised an eyebrow.

“What, like who’s gonna bed him first?” There was a pause, and the silence was telling. It caused you to stop walking.

”Oh god.” You rubbed your fingers into the corners of your eyes like you could physically wipe the idea out of your brain. Monica didn’t even flinch.

”He’s hot! How can you not be curious?! I’ve heard a lot of good things…” You dropped your head, staring at her.

”You better make that guy bathe in hand sanitizer before he touches you. God only knows where he’s been.” That got a laugh–sharp, unapologetic. Jess bit back a grin. Sue let out a quiet, breathy chuckle behind her hand, and even Monica smiled.

They didn’t deny it. They didn’t defend him, either.

The four of you continued to walk, your pace catching up to them so you could get involved in their conversation a little more, as your ears caught a hint of bass echoing through the streets.

Campus was surprisingly crowded for a week that should’ve been quiet. Most students hadn’t gone home–not for lack of desire, but practicality. A three-day visit to your hometown wasn’t worth the bus ticket, the packing, and the return. The majority of people who didn’t travel long distances had quietly agreed to stay put, which caused a social pressure cooker of chaos. Parties bled from one house to the next, yards were flooded with empty kegs and pool floats, and of course people were out till all hours of the night taking in the extracurriculars.

You were one of the people who chose to stay, but it was for different reasons.

You had a chemistry midterm that was going to hit you on the Monday right after break, and you needed peace and quiet to get the thirty five page study guide your professor had emailed. You had been hunched over your laptop, dragging a pen across every other line and downing iced coffee like it counted as fuel. Your residence hall had been silent–peaceful in the way only empty buildings could be. No thumping floors. No bathroom chatter. Just the hum of fluorescent lights and the occasional door shutting down the hall.

And honestly, you liked it that way.

Which was why walking up this street, with the scent of cheap body spray and beer already creeping into the air, made your skin itch.

Jess, Monica, and Sue weren’t wrong–you had wasted half your break studying. But a frat party was a far cry from the kind of break you would’ve chosen. You would’ve taken a quiet bookstore, a blackout curtained room, maybe a hot bath. Instead, you were heading straight into the epicenter of campus chaos.

The house came into view like a rising tide–inevitable and loud.

Theta Rho Alpha Sigma Heta.

TRASH, for short.

It was a reputation as much as a name. It was burned into every party story, every Camus warning, and every early morning regret that started with “so we went to TRASH last night.” Ten fraternity brothers lived inside, and every square foot off the place bore evidence of that fact. It was a massive, century-old house–once regal, now abused. Three floors, five bedrooms, two makeshift attic spaces, a finished basement that doubled as a moldy second living room. The paint on the siding had faded into a blotchy, sun-peeled gray, warped by years of weather and neglect. The porch sagged under the weight of too many bodies. One of the support beams had been duct-taped after someone fell through it last fall.

The front steps were uneven, patched with mismatched bricks and sagging plywood. Two of the railing posts were zip-tied together in a last-ditch effort to pass housing inspection. The fraternity’s letters were bolted crookedly above the door, one hanging loose on a single screw. Half-lit from a porch light that flickered like a dying candle.

Light poured from every window–yellow, blown out, too warm. It cast strange shadows across the lawn, catching in the curls of smoke that drifted from blunts and vapes and burning firewood in the backyard pit. The music pulsed through the siding—more vibration than melody. Heavy bass that flattened everything it touched, beating into your chest like an arrhythmic second heartbeat.

The lawn was packed–shoulder to shoulder, people overflowing onto the sidewalk, the flowerbeds, the hood of someone’s car parked at a bad angle. Plastic cups were everywhere, crushed or half-full or abandoned in the grass. The scent of spilled beer hung in the air, warm and sharp, mixing with sweat, weed, fast food, gasoline from a knocked-over jerry can, and the stale breath of a thousand unwashed Red Solo cups.

Someone was blasting a megaphone from the porch steps–a guy in a backwards cap, red-faced and laughing, trying to shout over the music. You caught pieces of it: something about jello shots, something about the beer pong table being “winner stays,” and something that sounded suspiciously like “naked mile.”

Two guys were wrestling in the grass by the mailbox, one of them missing a shirt, the other holding a can of whipped cream like a weapon. A girl stumbled past them in glitter boots and a bikini top, waving a phone and yelling at someone you couldn’t see. Another was throwing up behind a bush while her friend held her hair and nodded along to the music like it was a shared ritual.

From the second-floor balcony, a makeshift banner drooped crookedly on a frayed bedsheet:

TRASH FEST 2NITE - NO RULES. NO EXCUSES. NO SLEEP.

“Jesus,” Jess muttered under her breath, pausing at the edge of the lawn. “It’s already booming and it’s not even 9:30. We are so late.”

You followed a few paces behind her, stepping carefully around a puddle of cheap beer that had soaked into the grass. “Didn’t know we could be late for a frat party,” You mumbled, eyeing the porch like it might collapse under the weight of the crowd.

But the girls were already in motion, rushing toward the chaos like it was gravity pulling them in. You hung back just slightly, weaving your way around the worst of the lawn–dodging a guy hurling glow sticks into the crowd and stepping over a discarded takeout container that looked like it hadn’t survived the walk from the sidewalk. Your shoes slipped slightly on the wet grass as you moved toward the porch steps, where cigarette butts and crushed cups had collected like driftwood on the edge of a rising tide.

You stepped up, sneakers hitting the warped planets, hand grazing the rickety railing as the music began to rattle your teeth at full force. The door was open, the entryway wide and glowing with overexposed yellow light. You could smell it all before you even crossed the threshold–booze, sweat, pot, deodorant masking body odor, and something burnt that might’ve been food or someone’s hair.

The second your foot crossed the threshold, it hit you all at once–the heat, the crowd, the crush of music and smoke and too many bodies packed into too little space. The entryway smelled like spilled tequila and cheap cologne. Someone’s hoodie brushed your shoulder, sticky with sweat, and you recoiled instinctively, scanning for your friends. Jess’s trench coat disappeared into the living room. Monica’s glitter top flashed once, then vanished into the blur. Sue was already at the bar cart in the corner, snagging plastic cups.

You were still deciding whether to follow–or leave–when he stepped in front of you.

Jake Seresin.

Leaning casually against the wall near the stairs, like he’d been waiting for this exact moment.

He looked the same as always–clean cut and cocky, like a walking recruitment poster that never had to try too hard. His hair was neatly styled, strawberry blonde in colour, and slightly dampened from either sweat or a shower. You didn’t know and quite frankly you didn���t care.

He wore a snug black t-shirt that clung to the curve of his biceps, jeans slung low on his hips, worn-in boots planted like he owned the floorboards. A silver chain peeked from under his collar, catching the glow from the overhead bulb. The smirk on his face arrived before he spoke.

“Y/N…I see you’ve decided to come out of your cave.” Jake’s voice cut through the heat and noise like he owned the damn place–which, unfortunately, he sort of did, especially because he was the head of the house. His smirk was smug enough to slap off his face, and the way he looked at you–lazy, head tilted just slightly–made your blood itch.

“Didn’t realize you were doing doorman duty tonight. What’s the matter–couldn’t con a freshman into kissing your boots on the way in?”

Jake laughed, low and amused. He shifted his weight, arms crossing, biceps flexing like it was involuntary. “Cute. But if you really wanted to see me, you could’ve just said so. No need to pretend you’re here for the punch.”

“If I wanted to see you, I’d schedule a lobotomy first,” You said, eyes scanning past him to where the party stretched out like a sweaty nightmare, “You’re like athlete’s foot. Persistent. Itchy. Impossible to get rid of.”

That earned you a flash of teeth, the smirk sharpening. “Damn. Must’ve missed that sparkling charm of yours. Thought maybe you’d chilled out since fall semester.”

“Nah,” You replied, smiling without warmth, “You don’t know me well enough to assume something like that.” He hummed.

”You always this feisty, or do you just save it all for me?”

“I save it for pests,” You shot back, “Like you.” And with that, you pushed past him–your shoulder clipping his lightly–just enough to make it clear you were done. You didn’t wait for a comeback. You didn’t care what his smug ass had to said next. The music hit harder in the next room, and the humidity had already begun to creep under your clothes like steam.

Sue caught up to you almost instantly, already grinning like she’d watched the whole exchange from the sidelines.

“Thanks for buttering him up,” she said, patting your arm. Her tone was teasing, but not mocking. “I’m going in for the first interaction of the night.”

You raised your cup-less hand and gave her a small salute.

“Good luck,” You shouted back over the bass, smirking. She gave you a wink before disappearing into the crowd, swaying through the bodies with ease. You peeled off toward the kitchen, dodging a couple making out near the coat rack and stepping over a few abandoned beer cans. The kitchen was a warzone of overturned shot glasses, and a group of architecture students stacking some of the spare red solo cups in a tower. To your left, a half-empty bowl of lime wedges was slowly withering beside an array of crumpled napkins, and then your eyes found the coolers.

There were three of them, stacked neatly along the wall beneath the fogged kitchen window–white Igloo coolers with duct-tape labels stuck to their lids like someone had planned this out. You paused for a second, brow lifting slightly. It was the first thing you’d seen in this entire house that resembled forethought.

POP / ENERGY / SPORTS DRINKS

It was handwritten in black Sharpie, a little smudged from condensation, but legible. Organized.

You flipped the lid, expecting warm cans swimming in brown ice water and maybe the scent of something that had once been fruit punch. Instead, it was ice cold. There were cans lined up in half-hearted rows–soda, sports drinks, a few scattered energy drinks, and even a rogue seltzer tucked in the corner.

You spotted the ginger ale immediately and grabbed it, the can blessedly cold against your hand. You popped the tab with a low crack, the fizz whispering up as you turned around and leaned back against the counter. The metal felt cool through your jeans, a shock of comfort against your overheated skin.

You brought the can to your lips and took a sip–dry, sweet, clean. The carbonation hit your throat gently, but the cold grounded you.

The nausea that had been curling in your gut since you stepped into the house–maybe even since you left the dorm–began to quiet under the fizzy bite. Not completely. But enough.

Your eyes scanned the room as you sipped. People buzzed in and out like bees. Music bled through the drywall. There were beer pong shouts from the living room, someone screaming off-key to a pop remix from the basement, and a girl in the corner of the kitchen trying to convince her friend that no, taking another shot wouldn’t fix the situation.

You took another sip of your ginger ale, but this time it caught in your throat.

You coughed into your arm, quietly at first—then once more, harder, sharp enough to make your eyes water. The fizz didn’t settle your stomach like before. It turned sour, bubbling too fast. Heat rose under your skin, too much of it. The air felt wrong—like it wasn’t going in properly, like the room had subtly tilted without warning and your lungs were working against it.

Maybe it was the noise. The press of people. The humidity clinging to every surface like a second skin. Or maybe it was you.

You blinked slowly, dragging in another breath through your nose, but it didn’t go deep enough. Your chest tightened instead. Like a pressure band had cinched beneath your ribs, subtle at first, then steady, then sharp.

Shit.

You glanced around again, searching for something—a signal, maybe. A reason to leave. A place to bolt to. But everything looked the same: sticky floors, laughing strangers, red cups tipping on every flat surface. Too much noise. Too much movement. You couldn’t catch your footing in it. Couldn’t ground yourself.

You didn’t know if you were going to throw up or have a panic attack, and honestly, it didn’t matter—because either way, you needed out.

You pushed off the counter. The cold had left your jeans, and your hand trembled slightly as you set your can down, half-full and already forgotten. The kitchen was a blur behind you, the music thudding harder now, bass lines vibrating in your teeth.

You moved fast, weaving through the main floor with quick, shallow breaths. Eyes down. Shoulders tight. The living room passed in a smear of sweat and cheap cologne, someone’s laughter bouncing too loud off the crown molding. You didn’t stop to said anything. Didn’t look for your friends. You didn’t want to worry them–not yet. Not until you figured out what the hell was happening.

Going outside wasn’t an option. Not with the yard full of people. If one of your friends saw you slipping out, they’d follow. Or worse–they’d worry. You didn’t want that either.

So you made for the stairs.

The banister was sticky and warm under your palm as you took the steps two at a time. Your breath hitched halfway up, chest clenching like your ribs were welded shut. You swallowed hard and forced yourself to keep going.

The second floor was marginally quieter, but the walls were still too thin. Bass leaked through every inch. Laughter echoed from behind doors, and the smell of weed hung low like a fog.

You moved fast–hand grazing doorknobs, cracking one open only to find two people already tangled on a futon, backlit by LED strips. You didn’t pause. You just kept going.

Next room: a circle of guys smoking out of a gravity bong made from an Arizona bottle. One lifted his hand in greeting, eyes bloodshot and lazy. You shut the door.

Another: a girl crying on the floor while two of her friends huddled around her with shot glasses. You closed that one a little more gently.

The hallway seemed endless. Your chest was still too tight. Like there wasn’t enough air on this floor either.

Then finally the last door on the left creaked open to a well lit, completely empty room. You stepped in, fast, and shoved it shut behind you, the slam loud in the sudden quiet. Your back hit the wood, hard enough to jolt your spine, and you didn’t care. The silence was immediate, muffled and warm and blessedly still.

Your eyes adjusted to the sight in front of you and almost immediately you were absorbing all the details.

The room was bright in contrast to the rest of the house–lit by a desk lamp angled toward a bulletin board cluttered with index cards and printouts. The overhead light was on too, not dim or tinted like the others downstairs, but clean and soft and yellow, illuminating the space in a way that made everything feel more grounded. Less warped. Less unreal.

Your eyes scanned the details, cataloguing without meaning to.

A twin XL bed sat tucked in the corner, sharply made with a green-and-navy plaid duvet pulled taut at every corner. The sheet edges were squared, the pillows firm and aligned. Not a wrinkle in sight. There was a subtle indent on the right side of the mattress—someone had been sitting there recently. Maybe even within the hour. But whoever it was, they weren’t here now.

You stared at the bed like it might steady you. Like if you focused hard enough, the room would stop spinning entirely.

Beside the bed, a heavy oak bookcase ran nearly the full height of the wall. It was packed with titles, every shelf brimming. Not decorative either–thoroughly read. Dog-eared paperbacks leaned into thick hardcover editions, grouped not by color or aesthetic, but by subject. Biographies. Math. Novels. Non-Fiction. Chemistry and Science. A few textbooks on differential equations, stacked beside a worn copy of Dune and a boxed set of The Lord of the Rings. Your fingers twitched, instinctively wanting to trace the spines.

You blinked slowly. Breathed in through your nose. The room smelled faintly like pine and laundry detergent–clean and muted. No sweat, no beer, no weed. Just detergent, and the faint dry scent of paperback pages.

A corkboard hung above the desk, pinned with exam timetables, lab schedules, a few biology notes, and what looked like a printed-out list of citations in 12-point Times New Roman. The chair tucked neatly beneath was ergonomic, not cheap. Beside it sat a large, dented water bottle and a stack of neatly bound notebooks.

Posters lined the wall–nerdy ones. Retro Star Wars prints. A 2001: A Space Odyssey poster framed in black. There was a NASA diagram of the solar system pinned above the desk, annotated in ballpoint pen like whoever lived here used it to actually study, not just decorate.

You took a step forward, the floor creaking under your weight.

“…Geeky,” You muttered to yourself, voice hoarse, quiet. The sound came out more like a breath than a statement. Your knees nearly gave out when you reached the side of the bed. You sat down slowly, hands braced on the plaid comforter, fingers splayed across the dense fabric.

It gave a little under your palms. Still faintly warm.

You let out another breath–long, uneven, but better than before.

Your heart was still pounding, but it was loosening its grip. Slowly. The walls weren’t closing in anymore. Your lungs weren’t seizing.

You tapped your fingers against the mattress and started listing what you could see.

“Desk lamp. Physics textbooks. Star Wars poster. Clean sheets. Plaid pattern.”

Another breath.

“Water bottle. Books on aerospace…Math. Scent’s clean. No body spray. No beer.”

Another breath.

It wasn’t magic. But it helped. saiding it all aloud gave your mind something to anchor to.

You swallowed, eyes fixed on the corner of the room. “Big bookshelf. Index cards on the corkboard. Neatly folded blanket on the chair.” You paused, blinking. “Shit,” you whispered softly, dragging your hand down your face.

It wasn’t that you were weak. You knew what this was. You’d never been diagnosed, but the signs were hard to ignore. The panic. The way crowds made your body feel like it was misfiring from the inside out. How your throat closed up in packed rooms. How every party ended with your head spinning and your jaw locked in quiet dread.

Agoraphobia. You’d read about it. Dismissed it. Then quietly reconsidered it. And then dismissed it again.

But tonight? Tonight your body had decided to remind you it was real.

You leaned forward, elbows to knees, head in your hands. Not crying. Just breathing. For a long moment, you stayed like that–drinking in the quiet, letting the static in your limbs slowly begin to fade.

The sound of the door handle turning ripped through the quiet like a thunderclap.

You jolted upright–spine snapping straight, fingers braced against the mattress, breath catching mid-inhale.

The door creaked open slowly, a rectangle of warm hallway light spilling across the floor, cutting a golden line through the carpet and up your jeans. And then he stepped inside.

You blinked hard.

He froze halfway through the threshold. One foot in, one out, like he hadn’t meant to walk in on anyone–and certainly hadn’t expected to find a stranger perched on his bed.

He looked about your age, maybe slightly older. Tall but not imposing, lean in the kind of way that came from long hours of running or lifting–not bulking. His face was unmistakable even in the soft light: gentle features, tousled light brown hair that curled slightly at the ends from where it had dried naturally, no product. A strong jaw softened by the faintest dusting of stubble. He had a pair of glasses perched on his nose–simple, silver rimmed, they looked similar to aviator glasses, just a little more rounded off in the lenses. They were crooked but he didn’t reach up to fix them.

And those eyes…Wide, bright, and startlingly blue.

Like the ocean under a cold sky. The colour made your stomach turn, and the way they reflected in the light made your head spin.

He wore a navy crew neck sweater with the university crest stitched over the chest, sleeves pushed halfway up his forearms, revealing ink stains and a faint red pressure mark on his wrist where a watch probably used to be. Grey sweatpants hung low on his hips, worn at the knees, soft enough that they must’ve been his go-to. A can of sprite was in his hand, dripping from the ice that had melted over it.

“Oh. Oh god–I’m sorry.” The words rushed out of your mouth quickly, breathless, “I didn’t mean to–I wasn’t…” His brows lifted slightly, but there was no alarm on his face. Just surprise. His voice was low, quiet, and careful.

“It’s okay…I–uh–it’s alright.” He hesitated, eyes flicking across the room, landing briefly on your curled posture, your flushed face, the slight tremble in your hand as you pushed back from the bed. “Are you…Okay?” You blinked. Your heart was still hammering. Not from fear anymore–but embarrassment. Humiliation. He didn’t look like he thought you were stealing. He didn’t even glance toward the desk or the bookshelf. He was looking at you. Really looking. Reading the panic that hadn’t quite drained from your body yet.

You felt your shoulders curl in instinctively, defensive. But there was no judgment in his expression–just a quiet, earnest concern that felt way too soft for someone who’d just found a stranger in his room.

“I–” You swallowed, hand hovering mid-air like you weren’t sure whether to stand or bolt. “I didn’t know anyone was here. I just–I needed out. I was–I had to get out of the kitchen.” He nodded once, like he understood completely. He stepped the rest of the way into the room and closed the door behind him–not all the way, but enough to soften the noise from the hallway. It was strange how quickly the room felt like a bubble again. A barrier. A pause from everything that came before it.

“I figured…” He said quietly, “The parties here get pretty loud and overcrowded, so I don’t blame you for wanting to get some peace for a minute.” You swallowed thickly, your throat still tight with leftover nerves, and exhaled through your nose.

“Yeah,” you murmured, voice quieter now, “I can’t imagine living here, to be honest.” He smiled—not cocky like Jake, not smug or practiced. Just a small, self-deprecating curl of his lips, as if he agreed with you more than he was willing to admit.

“Noise-cancelling headphones really come in handy.” That earned a low breath of amusement from you.

“I guess you’re right with that one…”

He took a sip of his Sprite, the faint crackle of carbonation filling the small silence that followed. It wasn’t uncomfortable exactly–just heavy with all the things neither of you were sure how to said yet. He stayed near the door, not wanting to hover or crowd you in any way. You watched him for a second, and then another, noting the way his shoulders shifted under the weight of the conversation–or maybe just the attention.

Then, softly, like he was testing the waters:

“I’ve seen you around before…In the science building. You’re in Chem 241, right?”

Your brows lifted slightly, caught between surprise and guarded curiosity. “Yeah… it’s my major.” You tilted your head. “How do you know what class I’m in?” He gave a sheepish, quiet laugh, the kind that curled at the corners of his mouth without ever really reaching full confidence. He ran a hand through his hair, the motion making it stick up slightly in the front.

“You’re in the class before mine. You’ve got kind of a familiar face.”

You paused, eyes still on him, your heart starting to settle into something else–less fight-or-flight, more puzzled curiosity. He didn’t look embarrassed exactly, but there was a warmth in his cheeks now, visible even in the soft lighting. A flicker of nervous energy vibrated at the tips of his fingers as he shifted his Sprite to the other hand.

Then, like the thought had only just occurred to him:

“Oh–Jesus, sorry. I’m Bob, by the way. Bob Floyd.” He grimaced slightly at the awkwardness of it, wiping his damp palm against the thigh of his sweatpants before offering it out to you, fingers curled slightly.

You hesitated for only half a second before reaching out and slipping your hand into his. His palm was warm, slightly chilled from the condensation of the can but dry now. The grip was gentle, just enough to be firm without overcompensating.

“Y/N,” You said quietly. Your name sounded softer in this room than it had downstairs-like the sound itself respected the quiet.

He smiled again. “Y/N,” He repeated, a little slower this time, like he was filing it away in some meticulous corner of his brain. “Nice name,” Bob said, quiet and genuine. The words weren’t perfunctory–they landed with a softness that didn’t feel like filler. More like a real compliment, shaped by how he said it. You blinked once, caught off guard by how sincere it sounded.

Before either of you could speak again, a sudden crash reverberated through the floorboards beneath you–so loud and forceful that your feet actually lifted a half inch from the mattress. Something heavy had toppled on the first floor. Maybe furniture. Maybe a person. Followed by a cascade of laughter that barely muffled the groaning bass still pounding through the walls.

You flinched, eyes widening, then looked toward Bob with a raised brow.

“What’s a guy like you doing in a frat house, by the way?” You asked, your voice dry but curious, brushing your palms down the front of your jeans. “You seem too…Sane.” Bob took another slow sip of his Sprite, his glasses catching the overhead light as he tilted his head slightly.

“It’s pretty good to have on a résumé,” He said mildly. “Minus the parties, of course.”

You hummed, the sound low in your throat as your eyes flicked toward the ceiling like you were scanning for divine confirmation. “Yeah…I think if any future employer found out the type of parties TRASH throws, I’m pretty sure you’d be hired immediately. Just for surviving them.” That earned an actual laugh from him–low and warm, the kind that started in his chest and curled up into his mouth like it surprised even him. It settled something inside you. Not the panic entirely, but the vulnerability that had followed it. His laugh made the room feel a little more human. Less clinical. More like a moment you weren’t intruding on, but sharing.

“I don’t participate in them, evidently,” He claimed, gesturing lightly toward his desk. “So I’d be lying.”

You followed the motion with your eyes–the papers, the water bottle, a perfectly aligned mechanical pencil, and what looked like a cracked-open packet filled with printed slides and diagrams.

“Evidently,” you echoed softly, tilting your head a little as you looked around again. “What were you doing?” Bob exhaled–half sigh, half breath of frustration–and stepped toward the desk. He reached for the study packet, flipping the top corner up between his fingers to show you the first page. It was already heavily marked–some in black pen, some in red. Diagrams had been annotated, circled, dissected line by line. Across the top margin, written in neat, even letters, was the course title: Space Systems Design – Midterm Review Packet.

“Studying,” He said. “I have the test on Monday, and I’m nowhere near done with this thing.” His tone was tired but not bitter, just resigned in the way that only students deeply familiar with academic despair could be.

You gave a quiet, knowing laugh–one that felt more like release than amusement. “Of course. I guess every professor gets off on torturing science and engineering students,” You muttered, stretching your arms briefly. “Because I’ve got a very similar packet sitting on my desk right now for my Chem Midterm.” He placed the packet back on the desk with a soft tap.

”Misery loves company, I guess.” He offered.

“More like intellectual suffering,” You replied dryly, crossing one ankle over the other where you sat at the edge of his bed. There was a beat of silence, the kind that settled into the warmth between two people who hadn’t yet decided if they were strangers or acquaintances.

Bob leaned slightly against his desk, fingers still resting on the edge of the study packet. He tilted his head just enough for his glasses to slip down his nose for a moment, then asked softly, “So…Who dragged you out of your studying and brought you here?”

You huffed out a breath, half a laugh. “My friends got personally invited by your frat brother Jake,” you said, tone flat and unamused. “I’m assuming you know him well.”

That pulled a low, genuine laugh from Bob–his shoulders lifted slightly, the sound soft and disbelieving. “Well… I guess he’s trying to expand his roster again.”

You smirked, leaning back just a little on your palms. “Guess one of my friends is getting lucky tonight then, if he’s looking to score.”

Bob let out a hum, lips twitching toward a grin. “As long as they have a pulse, they’re fair game.”

You groaned. “Figured that…”

Another crash exploded beneath your feet–some combination of broken glass and furniture legs giving out–followed by a howling cheer from the crowd downstairs. You both winced slightly, shoulders tensing at the same time.

Bob exhaled a sharp breath, then straightened. He looked at you carefully–not with pity, but consideration–and then asked, quiet and steady:

“You wanna maybe…Get out of here?”

You blinked.

He shrugged one shoulder, casual but sincere. “Denny’s is 24 hours. We could sit there for a bit, get something to eat. And I’m sure if we stay long enough, the party’ll start to die down. Then you can get your friends when they’re all done here…” It was such a simple offer. No pressure. No weird edge. Just a safe, open hand held out toward the exit sign.

And god, it was tempting.

“Yeah…” you said almost immediately, your fingers already moving to unlock your phone. “Yeah, that sounds great, actually. I’ll just text them and let them know I’m going.”

Bob smiled–wide this time, soft and relieved. “Great.”

You glanced back up at him, still a little breathless from the past hour, still not sure if this was all a fever dream or the best part of your spring break. But you smiled back.

And maybe, just maybe, your night was finally starting to turn around.

———————————

The walk to Denny’s wasn’t long, but it was everything you needed.

The fresh air hit your lungs like a blessing–not sharp, not cold, just crisp enough to wash the smoke and sweat from your senses. Each breath cleared your head a little more. The bass from TRASH still thudded faintly in the distance, but the further you got from the house, the more it faded into the background noise of a quiet college town on a restless spring break night.

The streets were mostly empty, save for the occasional burst of laughter echoing down from a distant porch or a cluster of bikes propped against a lamppost. The rain from earlier had left the sidewalks glistening, catching the glow from streetlights and shop signs like scattered glass. Bob walked beside you, not too close, not too far–just an easy, steady presence. Every now and then, his shoulder would sway slightly toward yours, like gravity had its own opinion on the distance.

Denny’s sat at the edge of campus like a low-lit promise. The sign flickered faintly overhead, buzzing with the tired hum of fluorescent tubes, casting a pale glow on the nearly empty parking lot. It was a local staple–open all night, slightly grimy, and universally understood to be the unofficial overflow space for students who couldn’t sleep, didn’t want to go home, or just needed somewhere to exist without judgment. You’d studied here before. So had everyone. It smelled like syrup and fry oil and burnt coffee, and for some reason, it always felt safe.

Inside, the place was quieter than usual. A couple of booths were filled–one with a pair of students whispering over open textbooks, another with two guys splitting a plate of mozzarella sticks and arguing over a March Madness bracket. But the energy was muted. Dimmed. Like the whole place had taken a collective breath and decided to chill.

You and Bob slid into a booth by the window, vinyl seats squeaking under your weight. The table was slightly sticky with syrup residue–standard–but the lighting overhead was warm and soft. You could actually hear yourselves talk. You could actually think.

The waitress–a woman with tired eyes and a pen stuck behind her ear–dropped off two mugs and a full pot of coffee without asking. She must’ve pegged you both as regulars, or at least as students. Bob gave her a soft “thank you,” and you echoed it before she disappeared behind the counter.

Bob poured the coffee first, filling your mug before his. The gesture was small, automatic, but it made you pause for just a second.

“I think breakfast is one of the only meals I actually enjoy at any time of day,” he said as he handed you the sugar packet holder.

You hummed softly, stirring a little cream into your cup. “Pancakes, waffles, French toast–all sweet things,” You replied, voice a little lighter now, “But I do agree…Breakfast foods are definitely better than most.”

Bob nodded, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose as he reached for a menu. “Haven’t eaten much today, so I’m probably going to order a lot,” He said, deadpan but with a flicker of a smile. “Just warning you now.”

You laughed, slouching into your seat as you wrapped your hands around the warmth of the mug. “I won’t judge. As long as you don’t judge me for ordering an extra order of bacon. And possibly ham…And maybe another round of home fries.”

He looked up at that, a glint in his eyes beneath the lens glare. “Definitely won’t.”

Then, leaning forward just a little, voice conspiratorial and soft, he added, “But I will probably steal some of those home fries though, so…By all means, order away.”

You grinned, lifting your coffee to your lips. “Fair trade.”

And just like that, the tension that had wrapped itself around your ribs for hours began to unravel–for real this time.

It took a few minutes for both of you to confirm your orders–too many good, greasy options, too little brainpower left to commit. You squinted at the menu through the soft overhead glow, half your focus still caught in the feeling of warm coffee and the unexpected calm of the moment. Bob, meanwhile, flipped his menu once, then again, lips twitching like every option looked equally dangerous.

The waitress returned, pad in hand, looking only marginally more awake than when you walked in.

“I’ll have the fruit-topped pancakes,” You said, “With a side of bacon, ham…And an extra order of home fries…For the table of course…” You offered a small smile, like you were trying to excuse your own hunger, but she didn’t blink.

Bob, on the other hand, cleared his throat like he was preparing to read an oath. “Ultimate omelette, please. A side of pancakes, just the normal ones…And…A side of French toast, with bacon.”

She paused. Just slightly.

Her gaze slid over him like she was doing mental math on how someone built like a straight-laced study boy could possibly demolish what would equate to three breakfasts at once. Her brow lifted–just for a second–but she didn’t say anything. Just jotted it all down with a faint scribble of pen on paper, nodded, and disappeared with both menus in hand.

As soon as she was out of earshot, Bob let out a short, quiet laugh, leaning back in his seat. “I think I freaked her out a bit with all the food.”

You stifled your own laugh behind the rim of your mug. “Yeah, maybe a little. She’s probably wondering how you’re going to eat all of it.”

He shrugged, lifting his coffee. “We’ve got a bit of time. I think I can manage.”

That earned a proper laugh from you, low and genuine. You settled back against the booth as the hum of Denny’s buzzed softly in the background—silverware clinking, someone flipping a page from the next table over, a soft beep from the kitchen.

Bob took another sip of his coffee and set the mug down, fingers tracing the rim absently. “So…” He began, voice still gentle, “what’re you doing on campus during spring break?”

You exhaled slowly, watching the light catch the small glint of moisture still clinging to the window beside you. “My parents’ house is… A little chaotic,” You admitted. “And I really wouldn’t be able to study if I went back. So I just figured I’d stay in my dorm. Easier to focus. Cheaper, too.”

Bob nodded, listening like he really meant to. “Do you work?”

You reached up to scratch the back of your neck, sheepish. “Yeah. I work at Beans To You. Part-time barista. It gives me some extra spending money–enough to keep me caffeinated through exam season, anyway.”

That pulled another smile from him. “Do you like it?”

You lifted your hand and made a so-so motion in the air. “It’s fine. Tips are decent. My manager’s a nightmare, but I like the regulars.”

He nodded like he got it, then said, “I don’t really work…Not officially, anyway. Sometimes I write essays for a few of the frat guys and they pay me.” He gave a small shrug. “So I don’t know if you’d count that as a job or just…An Academic crime.”

You gasped dramatically, placing a hand over your chest like you’d just been personally betrayed. “You? Violating academic integrity? I’m shocked.”

Bob laughed, tipping his head down in mock shame. “Yeah, well…I can’t really keep a normal job while studying. Too much going on up here.” He tapped the side of his temple with a finger. “But I commend you for being able to juggle it.” You can feel your face heat up slightly.

“Thanks…” The silence between you and Bob stretches for a few seconds–comfortable, not strained. Outside the Denny’s window, a streetlight flickers, casting faint gold shadows across the table. The warmth of your coffee mug seeps into your palms, grounding you even as your thoughts turn over the night like a loose coin.

You glance over at him, chin tilted slightly, voice soft. “So why are you still on campus during spring break? Since you asked me…”

Bob’s hand curls around the coffee pot again. The ceramic glugs quietly as he refills his mug, steam rising faintly into the warm air between you. He doesn’t speak right away–just watches the dark liquid settle.

“Same as you, pretty much,” He replied after a beat, setting the pot back down. “But… I also don’t have a lock on my door, and the guys go into my room pretty often to steal things, so…” He shrugs one shoulder, faintly sheepish. “I figured it was better to be there. Y’know–stand guard.”

You smirk and lean forward slightly, grabbing a little plastic creamer cup from the holder and rolling it between your fingers. It clicks softly as it spins. “Interesting that you have a bunch of thieves in your presence.”

That earns a laugh from him–low and rough with amusement. “Well… they’ll always give the stuff back, of course. But only if I remind them.” He lifts his mug, lips quirking slightly as he takes a sip.

You hum, raising a brow. “Still sounds like thievery to me.”

His cheeks tint pink as he glances down into his cup, swirling it once before replying under his breath, “Touché I guess…” The silence slips in again—brief, like a shared breath—and you let your gaze settle on his hands for a moment. They’re long-fingered, a little ink-stained around the knuckles. Gentle, despite the size. His nails are clean but bitten at the edges. Tired hands. Capable ones.

Your voice cuts through the quiet again, this time softer, almost curious: “Your girlfriend must not like the guys coming in and out of your room, though.”

Bob pauses mid-sip. His lips part like he’s going to reply quickly, then he stops. A flicker of surprise crosses his face. He sets the mug down gently.

“No girlfriend,” He confirmed finally. His voice is steady, but there’s a faint guardedness behind it. “Kinda stopped trying with the whole dating thing. It was a bit… much.”

You blink at that. “Too much of a line-up?”

That draws a real laugh from him–quiet, exasperated, a hand lifting to rub at the back of his neck. His glasses slide slightly down his nose again.

“Oh, please…” He chuckles. “No. No line-up for me. I mean—look at me.”

You do, pointedly. “I am.”

He goes redder. You smirk.

“It’s just…” He exhales, shoulders relaxing as his fingers stir the coffee absentmindedly. “It’s complicated, y’know? I’m not very good at the whole–putting yourself out there thing. And I think people expect something when you show up to a date all prepared and polished. It gets weird. You have this whole pressure to perform. To be ‘on.’”

You tilt your head slightly. “Well, you seem to be outgoing. You’re doing pretty good with this conversation. I don’t know how it could be complicated.”

Bob stirs the sugar in his mug, the spoon clinking gently. He looks down at it, not quite meeting your eyes, but not avoiding them either.

“Maybe it’s because you’re pretty easy to talk to,” He explained. “It’s different when there’s no pressure. No expectations. You didn’t show up tonight wanting something from me. We just…Met. You don’t have a picture in your head of who I’m supposed to be.”

That strikes something in you–a truth you hadn’t quite realized was sitting at the edge of your own thoughts. You nod slowly, leaning a little further into the table.

“That makes sense,” You said softly. Your hand brushes the edge of the sugar packet holder again, fingertips tapping faintly. “I also think you walking in on me having a bit of an anxiety attack probably helped. With you staying calm, I mean.”

Bob’s head lifts slightly. His blue eyes catch yours again–bright, steady, warm. “That too,” he said, with a small smile. “It kind of cut through the usual noise. I knew what it was the second I saw you.”

You raise a brow gently. “Do you have experience with that kind of thing?”

He nods once. “I’ve had my moments. I’m…Pretty familiar with what it looks like. What it feels like.”

You feel your chest loosen–just slightly. There’s something in the quiet way he said it that wraps around you like a thread. Honest. Matter-of-fact. Not dramatic. Just shared.

You sip your coffee again, letting the silence settle in a way that feels companionable now, like you’ve both earned it.

Then Bob lifts his head a little more, his glasses catching the light as he looks at you across the table. His voice is lower now. “You’re okay now though, right?” You could feel your heart catch–not in that suffocating, chaotic way from earlier, but in a softer, almost stunned kind of ache. Because here he was: Bob, a stranger only hours ago, asking with quiet sincerity if you were okay. Not out of obligation. Not to get something from you. Just… because he cared. And somehow, that mattered more than you were prepared to admit.

“Yeah,” You replied, your voice light, but genuine. “I’m definitely feeling much better. I think it was just…How cramped the house was, to be honest.” You gave a soft, sheepish smile, pushing your hair behind your ear. “Wasn’t really a fan, I guess.”

Bob nodded, the corners of his mouth curling faintly. “That makes sense,” He murmured. “I think TRASH is like… the physical embodiment of a migraine.”

You snorted, and it broke the last of the lingering tension between you.

Before either of you could respond, the clatter of ceramic and the faint shuffle of sneakers announced the return of your waitress. She placed your food down with the weary grace of someone who’d balanced plates through hundreds of midnight shifts.

“Alright,” She said, eyeing the table, “Round one.”

She set down your fruit-topped pancakes–stacked high, glistening with syrup and dotted with blueberries and strawberries. The bacon was curled and crispy, the ham thick-cut and slightly charred at the edges. A steaming mountain of home fries followed, golden and peppered with bits of caramelized onion.

Bob’s first plate came next: a monstrous omelette, folded tight and stuffed with peppers, ham, cheese, and something else that looked like it might have once been alive and screaming. French toast followed, dusted with powdered sugar and still steaming, then the final plate of classic pancakes–plain, but perfectly browned and stacked like they belonged in a diner commercial.

“Damn,” You muttered as she walked away to grab another pot of coffee. “You weren’t kidding.”

Bob gave a faux-serious nod. “I take breakfast very seriously.”

Conversation flowed easily now, spilling over between bites and swipes of syrup, the low hum of the diner cocooning you in soft sounds: the hiss of the kitchen, the occasional ding of a timer, and the quiet scrape of forks over ceramic.

You talked about everything and nothing. Favorite professors. Weirdest drink orders you’d ever made at work. Other times, he said things you hadn’t expected: like how he wanted to work in aerospace design someday, or how he didn’t sleep well unless there was white noise playing somewhere nearby.

Somewhere between your second helping of home fries and Bob’s last piece of French toast, your phone buzzed. You picked it up mid-chew and glanced at the screen.

Jess: we’re heading back. dorms are too far but jake’s breath is worse. I’m tapping out.

Monica: don’t wait up <3

Sue: text when you’re home safe pls 🫶

You thumbed a quick reply, a warm smile tugging at your lips.

You: i’ll be good. i’ll text when i get back to the residence so you know i got home safe <3

When you set the phone down again, Bob was watching you–not in a weird way, just casually, curiously, like he could tell something in your expression had shifted.

“Friends bailing on you?” He asked, reaching for the last bite of his pancakes.

You nodded. “Yeah. Party must’ve worn them out.”

“Probably for the best,” He started, “It starts getting rowdy at around this time.” You snorted.

”What’s new? It’s like y’all don’t sleep, I’ve heard enough stories that it literally feels like when I don’t go to one of your parties I still attended.”

Bob laughed so hard he almost choked on his coffee.

By the time your plates were mostly empty and the coffee pot had been drained down to lukewarm remnants, you realized just how late it had gotten. The booths had began to thin out even more–there was just one table of students left, dozing over half-finished pancake stacks. The quiet was deeper now, but not uncomfortable.

The waitress returned to your table just as you were lifting your mug for one final sip, now half-cold and slightly bitter. Her pen was already poised, her notepad loose in one hand, her face unreadable behind the faint sheen of a night shift glaze.

“It’ll be one bill,” Bob said before she could even ask, his voice smooth but casual.

Your head jerked slightly in surprise, a protest already rising in your throat. “Wait, no–Bob, come on, you don’t have to–”

He shook his head gently, cutting you off with nothing more than a glance and a small smile. “It’s all good,” He murmured, already pulling out his wallet. “You got me out of the house for the first time this week. I owe you.” Your cheeks warmed, a slow bloom of heat rising into your ears. You blinked down at your mug, then back at him, and that’s when the sky opened.

A sudden roar of rain crashed against the diner’s roof, pounding like a thousand thrown pebbles. The windows misted almost instantly, a sheet of water streaming down the glass and distorting the world outside into a watercolor blur.

Bob flinched slightly, twisting in his seat to look outside. His shoulders hunched on instinct, and a low, resigned sound escaped from his throat. “Well…” he said, squinting past the droplets, “That doesn’t look good.”

You turned your gaze to the window and let out a dry laugh, exhaling softly as you looked down at the windbreaker you had draped over your lap. The nylon was thin and practically useless, more aesthetic than functional, and the idea of stepping into a monsoon in it was laughable at best.

“Guess I’m gonna be taking a second shower tonight,” you muttered.

Bob laughed—a soft, tired huff that carried the warmth of shared annoyance. He reached for the debit machine the waitress had just placed down, brows furrowing slightly at the glowing screen.

“I mean…” he began, eyes still on the numbers as he typed in a 20% tip with practiced ease, “TRASH is closer than your residence, I’m assuming…”

You stilled, your fingers lightly tapping the rim of your coffee cup. You raised an eyebrow and tilted your head toward him, a smirk flickering at the corner of your mouth. “Are you asking me to stay over at the frat house for the night?”

The question hung in the air, playful but open-ended, wrapped in something more vulnerable beneath the teasing. Bob’s fingers hesitated only a second on the keypad. Then he cleared his throat, his jaw flexing faintly as he focused a little too intently on the screen.

A tinge of pink crept into his cheeks, barely visible in the soft overhead glow, “Well,” He started, still looking at the machine, ““I don’t think it’ll be as chaotic as it was when we first left. It’s…”

He pulled his phone out of his hoodie pocket, thumb swiping the screen quickly before glancing at the time. His voice was slightly rough when he spoke again. “1:58…So most of the party crowd’s probably passed out or Ubered home.” You let the moment linger, your gaze resting on him as you traced the edge of your mug with your fingertip. The rain was still coming down hard, a near-constant shushing against the glass. You could feel the chill creeping in from the windowpane behind you, but your fingers were warm.

Your tongue flicked out to dampen your upper lip–an unconscious movement. “Okay,” you said quietly, meeting his eyes as he finally looked up. “You’re right.”

Something flickered behind his glasses–relief, maybe. Or hope.

“So…” He asked, voice gentler now, “Is that a yes?”

You tilted your head, pretending to consider it for dramatic effect. Then you nodded, slow and sure, your smile small but certain. “Definitely.”

———————————

By the time you reached the frat house again, your windbreaker had clung to your frame like a second skin–useless, soaked through, plastered to your arms and back. Bob hadn’t fared much better; his sweatshirt was darkened with rain, sweatpants sticking to his legs, curls dripping water down the sides of his face. You both half-jogged the final stretch of the walk, laughing breathlessly as puddles splashed beneath your sneakers, your jeans growing heavier with every step.

The porch light still flickered above the sagging steps of TRASH, casting its usual jaundiced glow across the warped wood and the crowd that lingered despite the downpour. The music inside had dulled to a murmur now–more background hum than bassline. A few people still lounged on the porch and by the windows, some wrapped in borrowed blankets or wearing half-soaked hoodies, clearly unwilling to brave the rain to get home.

You and Bob didn’t say anything as you stepped back inside. You didn’t need to.

The shift in temperature was immediate. Warmth hit you like a wall–sticky and musty from the remains of the party, but comforting after the rain. Your wet clothes clung to your skin, and you blinked against the fog that immediately fogged up Bob’s glasses.

He muttered something under his breath and took them off, reaching blindly for the nearest surface. A tissue box sat crookedly on the edge of a table cluttered with empty bottles and a half-eaten slice of pizza. He snagged one with a quiet “thanks,” as if the house had done him a favor, and carefully wiped the raindrops from the lenses.

You stood beside him, dripping gently onto the floorboards, ignoring the damp squish of your socks in your shoes.

“This is your fault,” You murmured dryly, nudging him with your elbow, pointing down at your shoes.

Bob smiled behind the tissue, his glasses still in hand. “Can’t control the way I splashed the puddles, it’s not my fault.”

You rolled your eyes, but the warmth of the exchange settled between you like steam, softening the cold still clinging to your back.

The climb to the second floor was quieter than before–no bodies spilling down the stairs, no screams from behind doors. The hallway was dim, lit only by the faint blue glow of a nightlight near the bathroom and the soft hum of a TV still playing somewhere behind a closed door. You padded side by side, shoes squelching softly, until you reached the door at the very end.

Bob stopped and looked down at the wet prints you’d both left on the wood floor. “Wait,” He said, hooking a finger into the heel of his sneaker. “Let’s not trash the room on the way in.”

You mimicked him without question, tugging your own shoes off and stepping gingerly onto the dry patch of carpet just outside his door. Your barefeet were cold against the wood, but you followed his lead as he opened the door and ushered you inside.

The warmth of the room embraced you immediately–soft light still glowing from the desk lamp, books undisturbed, bed still neatly made. It looked exactly as you’d left it, like the universe had paused while you were gone. A pocket of calm in the storm.

Bob shut the door behind you with a quiet click, and you both stood there for a second, wet and shivering, taking in the familiar scent of detergent and paper and pine.

You turned to him, wringing out the bottom hem of your shirt slightly. “So…What’s the protocol here?” You asked, gesturing vaguely to your soaked clothes. Bob cleared his throat, the sound soft but a little strained as he shifted in place. His hair was damp and sticking to his forehead from the humidity of the rain and the faint warmth of the room.

“Um… I have some spare clothes you can wear,” He said, gesturing vaguely toward the small closet on the far side of the room. “They might be a little big, but…”

You shook your head immediately, brushing a few wet strands of hair back from your face as water dripped quietly from your sleeves. “I don’t mind,” You murmured. “Not really trying to impress anyone.”

That earned the faintest smirk from him, quick and crooked–just a twitch of amusement at the corner of his mouth. He turned away and opened his closet, the wooden door creaking faintly on old hinges. Inside, everything was neatly stacked or hung: flannel shirts, hoodies, folded sweats, a few plastic hangers twisting slightly from where they’d been jostled. It wasn’t much, but it was organized–just like the rest of him.

After a second of deliberation, Bob pulled out a pair of flannel pajama bottoms–soft-looking, forest green and navy plaid–and a white t-shirt with faded navy lettering stretched across the front.

You tilted your head, brows lifting slightly. “‘The All-State Mathletes’?”

He sighed. “Yeah…It was a math team I was on in my first year. Don’t ask.”

You grinned and took the bundle from his hands, brushing your thumb across the worn fabric of the shirt. “I’ll take anything at this point.”

“I figured,” He muttered with a low huff of a laugh. Then, with a tilt of his head, “Bathroom’s two doors down. Towels are in the top drawer if you need one.”

“Got it.” You nodded, stepping back into the hallway barefoot, flannel bundle tucked under your arm and your wet clothes slapping faintly against your side with every step.

The bathroom was empty–thank god–and you wasted no time peeling off your drenched clothes. The fabric clung stubbornly, cold and limp against your skin, your jeans making that awful suction sound as you dragged them down your legs. The windbreaker hit the floor with a wet slap, your socks not far behind.

The dry fabric of the borrowed clothes was a godsend.

The pajama pants were big, predictably, and you had to roll the waistband twice just to get them to sit above your hips. The t-shirt hung past your thighs, thin and worn soft with age, the letters cracked and faded from a thousand washes. You caught your reflection in the mirror briefly as you towel-dried your hair–still damp–but a little steadier now.

You bundled your soaked clothes into a loose pile in your arms and padded back down the hall, feet cool against the hardwood. The party had dulled into something sleepy and distant. A door creaked open somewhere behind you, but you ignored it, your focus set entirely on the quiet golden glow spilling from the crack beneath Bob’s door.

When you opened it, your hand halfway full of damp denim, you froze in the doorway.

Bob was halfway through pulling on a clean shirt, the fabric bunched in his hands as it hovered just below his collarbone. His back was to you, bare and still slightly damp, pale under the soft overhead light. And god–he was lean, sure, but he was defined. His shoulders tapered into the strong slope of his spine, the muscles along his back pulling tight with every breath as he raised his arms. His skin was smooth, but the planes of him were lined with quiet strength–faint dips and ridges casting gentle shadows across his shoulder blades and the curve of his waist. You hadn’t expected him to be built like that.

Your throat went dry.

You coughed–a soft, involuntary sound that slipped from your chest before you could stop it.

Bob startled slightly and turned, shirt still bunched in his hands. His glasses were back on, fogged faintly from the warmth of the room. His cheeks went pink almost instantly, like the realization had only just hit him. “Oh Jesus,” he muttered, yanking the shirt over his head in a single, awkward movement. “I didn’t know you’d be back already.”

You took a cautious step in, one hand tightening around the bundle of wet clothes clutched to your chest. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to just walk in–didn’t really expect you to be…Changing.”

Bob shook his head as he adjusted the hem of the shirt, tugging it into place at his hips, smoothing it over the faint damp patches on his new pair of navy sweatpants. “No–it’s fine. Really. Uh…Let me get you a towel for your pillow…And I can throw your clothes in the dryer so they’ll be good by morning.” He moved quickly, brushing past you with careful steps, warm air trailing in his wake. You caught the scent of him as he passed–faint detergent, piney body wash, something subtle and clean that clung to the soft cotton of his shirt.

He opened a small drawer near the dresser, pulling out a thick grey towel and handing it to you without making eye contact. Then he glanced down at the soaked bundle in your arms and gently reached for it.

“I’ll toss these downstairs now,” He offered. “Give me five minutes and they’ll be spinning.”

You nodded, lips parting slightly. “Thanks. Really.”

Bob’s expression softened as he looked up at you–his blue eyes still wide behind the lenses, but a little calmer now. “Do you want a drink or anything?” He asked as he backed toward the door. “I’m probably gonna grab some water before…Sleep.”

You hesitated, then gave a small, grateful smile. “Yeah. Water is fine…Thank you.”

He nodded once and slipped out the door, leaving you alone again in the soft glow of his bedroom. The sound of his footsteps faded down the stairs, and you sat slowly at the edge of the bed again, towel draped across your shoulders, the smell of his room slowly working its way deeper into your skin.

You thumbed open your group chat as you sat at the edge of Bob’s bed, the thick towel still draped over your shoulders like a shield. Your wet clothes were gone–already clunking softly in the dryer downstairs–and the cold had mostly left your skin, replaced by the slow radiating warmth of his room.

The group chat lit up under your fingers:

You: made it back to the frat house safe. staying here tonight—will explain tmrw. love you guys. <3

A second later, Sue reacted with a heart. Jess sent a gif of someone raising an eyebrow dramatically, and Monica just wrote: “knew it 😉”

You rolled your eyes and let out a soft breath of amusement, then set the phone down on Bob’s desk, the screen glowing faintly for another second before fading to black. You turned back toward the bed and let yourself sink into the mattress, exhaling slowly as your shoulders dropped. The towel slipped from your frame, and you folded it carefully, placing it over the pillow before lying back, arms stretched loosely at your sides.

The room hummed around you. Softly. Comfortably. A distant thump of music still pulsed from the floors below–muted now, a sleepy echo of chaos already starting to dissolve into morning fog. Somewhere, a door clicked shut. Pipes murmured in the walls. And the desk lamp bathed the room in a low, golden glow, casting soft shadows against the bookshelves and the edge of the closet.

Then, the door opened again.

Bob entered quietly, closing it behind him with the same practiced care he’d used all night. His hair was slightly less damp, the ends curling gently around his ears. A bottle of water was tucked in each hand, condensation trailing slow rivulets down his fingers.

“Here,” He said, holding one out to you.

You sat up slightly, taking the bottle with a soft “Thanks,” and cracking it open. The cap clicked beneath your fingers, the cool water a sharp contrast against your warm skin. Bob twisted the top off his own and took a quick sip, his Adam’s apple bobbing with the motion. Then he lowered it and glanced toward the bookshelf with an unreadable expression.

“I’m just going to grab a blanket,” he said casually, “and take the spare room.”

You paused mid-sip, brows lifting. “What?” you said, letting the cap snap gently back in place. “You don’t want to share a bed?”

Bob’s eyes darted to yours, surprised. His lips parted faintly. “You…want to share a bed?”

You shrugged, voice light but steady. “Well…yeah. I don’t really mind. There’s enough room, isn’t there?”

His gaze flicked to the mattress like it needed to be double-checked. “Yeah, there is,” He admitted, the corner of his mouth twitching. “Just thought you wouldn’t want to be sleeping in a bed with a stranger.”

You tilted your head, the edge of a smirk tugging at your lips. “Hey now,” You teased softly, “Come on. We aren’t strangers.”

Bob huffed out a breath–a laugh, almost. “We met less than twelve hours ago and we’re already sleeping in the same bed. Seems fast.”

You stood slowly, the blanket falling back in soft folds behind your legs. “I’m fine with fast if you are,” you said, tone flirtier than before, the words curling at the edge like steam rising from pavement.

Bob looked at you for a long moment. His eyes flicked down your frame briefly–respectfully–but you caught it. Just the faintest breath of a glance at the oversized shirt, the rolled waistband of his pajama pants on your hips. Then he swallowed, the movement subtle but visible.

You climbed under the covers, placing your towel-topped pillow against the headboard and leaning back into it. The sheets were soft–cotton, a little warm from the dryer, carrying the faint scent of his detergent. Your body sank into the mattress like it remembered the panic you’d felt hours ago and wanted to nestle into something still, something safe.

You patted the empty space beside you, eyebrows raised in invitation. “Well?”

Bob didn’t answer right away. He just smiled–shy and a little stunned–and shuffled toward the bed like he didn’t quite believe this was real. The mattress dipped slightly under his weight as he climbed in beside you, his long legs folding under the blanket, which he pulled up to his shoulders like muscle memory.

His shoulder brushed yours–barely–but the heat of it lingered.

You reached across your chest and handed him your water bottle without a word. He blinked once, took it with a murmur of thanks, and leaned over to place it gently on the nightstand beside his own. The lamp clicked off a second later, plunging the room into darkness, save for the faint sliver of moonlight that slipped through the small window of his room. A silver-blue sheen spread softly across the edge of the comforter.

The quiet pressed in, not heavy or stifling, but thick with awareness.

Your bodies didn’t touch, but the heat between them curled like smoke.

You could hear the shift of the covers when Bob adjusted his legs, the soft whisper of fabric against skin as he rolled slightly toward you on instinct–then seemed to catch himself and settle again on his back. The bed creaked faintly beneath the motion, and then stillness returned.

The air smelled like clean cotton, pine body wash, the faintest trace of rainwater clinging to the ends of your hair. You turned your head on the pillow slightly, voice just above a whisper.

“Still awake?”

“…Yeah,” He said quietly. “You?”

You nodded in the dark. “Mm-hm.”

The quiet stillness wrapped around you like a weighted blanket, warm but buzzing with something new. It had shifted—gently, imperceptibly—but it was there now. Not the panic. Not the awkwardness. Something softer. Something waiting.

You turned over slowly, your arm sliding across the blanket as you rolled onto your side, the mattress giving slightly under your weight. The movement made a faint rustle, just enough for him to hear.

Bob shifted too.

His silhouette turned toward you, quiet and careful, until you could make out the soft rise of his chest beneath the covers, the faint slope of his shoulder, and the curve of his jaw in the pale wash of moonlight. His glasses were gone, probably folded on the nightstand with your water bottles, but even in the dim light you could see the glassy reflection of his eyes.

Blue. Gentle. Wide. Fixed on yours.

“Do you maybe want to maybe…Do something?” You asked, voice soft, watching as he swallowed hard.

”…What…What do you have in mind?” You didn’t answer right away. Just let the silence stretch between you like silk. Then your gaze dipped, slow and deliberate, to the shape of his mouth.

Soft, parted slightly. Waiting.

His breath caught–just the faintest hitch–and you saw his eyes flick down to your lips, mirroring you. Like instinct. Like gravity.

You leaned in.

It was tentative at first–your chest barely grazing his, your hand resting lightly on the edge of the pillow as you crossed the final few inches. Bob didn’t move, but his breath deepened, a quiet exhale drifting over your cheek as your nose brushed his. Then you closed the distance.

Your lips met his, soft and feather-light.

He froze for half a second, as if stunned–but then he kissed you back. His lips were warm, slightly chapped, but so gentle it almost made your ribs ache. He moved like he was afraid to shatter you, like this moment was too fragile to claim outright.

His hand came up slowly–hesitant at first, then steady. His palm cupped the side of your face, thumb brushing the curve of your cheekbone. The contact lit a slow-burning warmth across your skin. He let out a breath–long and unsteady against your lips, like the kind you exhale when you’ve been holding it too long.

He pulled back just a little, the tip of his nose brushing yours as he hovered, eyes open now, close enough that you could feel the faint tremble of his breath. You opened your eyes too.

And then you leaned forward again.

This time it wasn’t tentative. Still soft, still slow–but heavier now. More certain. You kissed him with your full mouth, with the weight of everything the night had built. Your lips parted slightly and so did his. The kiss deepened, quiet but lingering, the kind of kiss that said I see you. I feel this too.

Bob responded with a quiet sound in the back of his throat, like the breath had been pulled from him again. His hand shifted from your cheek to the base of your skull, fingers slipping into your damp hair, holding you with a gentleness that made your stomach flutter.

Your other hand found his forearm beneath the blanket, the heat of his skin a slow thrum against your fingertips. He tilted his head slightly to meet your mouth more fully, deepening the kiss just enough that you felt your body lean in instinctively. His lips moved against yours with the kind of reverence that made your breath catch–slow, aching, as if he didn’t want to stop.

When he finally pulled back, it was only by an inch. Just enough for air. Just enough to look at you.

The moonlight caught in his lashes, his irises shining like sea glass. His lips were redder now, parted slightly, the corner of his mouth trembling faintly from restraint or disbelief. His thumb brushed along your jaw as he studied you, breath still coming a little faster than before.

“Is this okay?” He whispered.

Your heart twisted at the softness in his voice. You nodded–barely a motion–but it was enough.

“Yeah,” You whispered back. “It’s perfect.” Bob stared at you for a breath longer, like he couldn’t believe you were real. Like this whole thing might vanish if he blinked too fast.

Then he leaned in again.

The kiss that followed was deeper–hungrier. Less tentative. His hand was still cradling the side of your face, thumb brushing under your eye, but there was a new weight behind the way he kissed you now. A heat that curled up from the pit of your stomach, spreading like honey beneath your skin. His lips parted a little faster, like he was giving in to something he’d been holding back.

You pressed in with him, lips slotting together again and again, and then you moved–your body shifting under the blanket as you brought one leg over his hip, slowly, testing.

Bob froze for half a second–just long enough for you to hesitate–but then his hand moved. The one on your cheek slid down, dragging lightly along your jaw, your neck, the curve of your shoulder, until it found your thigh. His fingers curled around the back of it, firm and warm, and pulled you gently closer.

You moved instinctively, hips settling into the cradle of his body, your leg draped loosely over his, pressing in. The blanket bunched around your waists, forgotten. The worn cotton of his borrowed flannel pants brushed against your skin as you rocked forward, just enough to feel the heat between your bodies catch.

His breath hitched.

The kiss deepened again, your lips parting just slightly, just enough to taste his breath. And then you felt it–his tongue, tentative but sure, slipping past your lips to meet yours. It wasn’t sloppy or rushed. It was slow and searching, like he wanted to memorize the shape of your mouth from the inside out. You responded in kind, your fingers curling lightly into his shirt, gripping the soft cotton as you rolled your hips again–just once.

Bob gasped against your lips.

It wasn’t loud, but it was raw–half breath, half sound, the air from his lungs catching in his throat. You felt the heat of him through the fabric, the slow, aching tension building there. His fingers dug into your thigh just slightly, not enough to hurt–just enough to pull.

You did it again. Slower this time. Your hips moved in a slow, steady circle, the friction sweet and hot even through the layers of borrowed clothes. Bob broke the kiss suddenly, his lips parting with a soft huff of air as his head tilted back against the pillow.

“Fuck–” He breathed, almost inaudible, as though it had been dragged from him by accident.

You pulled back slightly, brushing your nose along his cheek before pressing a slow kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Get on top?” he asked, voice rough, uncertain but yearning.

You nodded, lips still brushing his.

He shifted beneath you, back arching slightly as he rolled onto his back, adjusting the blanket so it slipped lower across his hips. You followed the motion, moving carefully, straddling him with slow, deliberate movements. The oversized shirt you wore fell forward slightly, hanging off your shoulders as you adjusted your weight over him.

His hands settled instinctively on your thighs, fingertips flexing gently as you leaned down to kiss him again–this time firmer, more desperate. It was less polished now, more honest. You kissed like people who hadn’t had something like this in a long time. Like this was a secret you weren’t supposed to be sharing but needed anyway.

You began to move again, hips rocking gently against him in a slow rhythm that made his jaw slacken beneath your mouth.

Bob groaned–quiet, tight–and his hands moved to your waist, holding you just a little more firmly now. His breath was hot against your mouth as he kissed you harder, sloppier now, letting go of some invisible restraint. Your thighs squeezed around his hips, the pressure sending heat curling down your spine. You could feel how hard he was through his sweatpants now, the heat of him pressed up between your legs with every slow drag of your hips.

His moan broke the rhythm.

Soft and helpless. It slipped into your mouth like a secret.

You pulled back, barely, kissing the line of his jaw and the soft, exposed skin of his neck. He tilted his head just enough to give you more space. His throat flexed when you kissed him there–gently, again and again–before murmuring softly:

“Are you okay?”

His fingers tightened just slightly where they rested on your hips. His breath came a little faster now, chest rising against yours in shallow waves. And then, softly, almost embarrassed:

“I…I’m a bit sensitive…”

You paused, still straddling him, your hand smoothing lightly over his chest. The thump of his heart was rapid beneath your palm.

You looked down at him, eyes searching in the dark. “Are you…A virgin?”

He shook his head quickly, cheeks flushed red even in the faint light.

“No…No, not a virgin. But it’s…It’s kind of been a while. And I haven’t… I haven’t had sex with many people.”

Your heart softened at the honesty. The way he said it, not ashamed–just cautious. Like he wanted you to know what you were working with. What you were holding in your hands.

You leaned down, brushing your lips gently against his jaw.

“We can stop if you want,” You murmured. “I don’t mind just doing this. You don’t have to prove anything.”

Bob shook his head immediately, voice quiet but steady. “No…No, we can keep going. I want to. I really want to.”

You smiled, slow and reassuring. A gentle hand slid down to his chest again, your thumb brushing the fabric of his shirt as you spoke.

“If you want to stop, just tell me, okay?”

He nodded, eyes wide and warm. “Okay.” You leaned down again, your lips brushing the corner of his jaw, then trailing lower, slow and coaxing. Bob tilted his head back, just enough to expose his throat to you, and you took the invitation without hesitation–pressing soft, lingering kisses to the curve of his neck, the warm hollow beneath his jaw. You let your tongue flick out lightly, tasting the salt of his skin, the faint tang of piney body wash and rainwater still clinging to him.

His breath hitched again when your lips ghosted over the edge of his collarbone.

You kept moving downward, slow and deliberate, your hips still rocking gently against his as your kisses followed the slope of his body. The heat between your legs pulsed against the firmness beneath his sweatpants with each subtle shift, each teasing grind of pressure. You could feel him trembling slightly under you–barely noticeable, but there.

Then, without a word, he shifted.

He leaned up just enough to grab the hem of his shirt and peel it over his head in one fluid, unhurried motion. His hair stuck up in damp little curls as he tossed the shirt aside, chest rising and falling more quickly now, bare and flushed under the faint light.

You paused.

Your gaze swept over him–up close now. Every inch of him laid out before you. His chest was broad, lined with soft muscle, not overworked but strong. The subtle lines of his ribs shifted with each breath. A faint trail of hair disappeared beneath the waistband of his sweats, and your mouth went dry again.

“Jesus,” You murmured, almost to yourself, your fingers ghosting over his sternum. He shivered under your touch. Your hands traced down slowly–past his chest, over his stomach, feeling the flutter of his abs tensing beneath your palm. You kissed each inch as you moved, warm and open-mouthed, pushing the comforter lower as you went.

He was breathing harder now, lips parted, one hand fisting the sheets beside him as he fought to stay still.

When you reached the waistband of his sweatpants, you looked up.

“Can I take these off?” You asked softly, fingers already hooked into the fabric.

Bob looked down at you, eyes glassy with heat, and nodded. “Yes… Please.”

You pulled them down slowly, dragging them past his hips, down his thighs, then off entirely. Your breath caught as he was finally exposed to you–fully, completely. He was big. Thick and flushed and already twitching under your stare, the head glossy with arousal, a vein pulsing visibly along the underside.

Your eyes widened just a little.

He saw it.

His face went red immediately, arms twitching like he wasn’t sure whether to cover himself or not. “Is…Everything okay?”

You nodded quickly–so quickly it made your hair shift. “Yes. Oh my god…Yes.” You reached up, wrapping your hand around him carefully. His whole body reacted–his hips stuttered and his eyes fluttered shut, a choked gasp leaving his lips. His thighs tensed beneath your knees.

“Still okay?” You asked gently, your hand already stroking him in slow, reverent pulls.

He opened his eyes, dazed and breathless, and nodded. “Yeah. Fuck–yeah.”

You leaned forward then, dragging your mouth along the sensitive skin of his lower abdomen, kissing just above the base of him. His hips jerked slightly under you. And then you took him into your mouth.

The reaction was immediate.

Bob let out a sound–high and broken, something between a moan and a whimper–and his hand flew up, grabbing at the pillow behind his head like he needed something to hold on to. You started slow, letting your lips stretch around him, your tongue tracing every inch you could reach, eyes flicking up to watch the way he unraveled.

It was messy. Your lips were already slick, your breath hot against him as you took him in deeper, your hand stroking what your mouth couldn’t manage. You let spit slide down your chin, let your tongue swirl at the sensitive underside of the head, and when you pulled back just enough to suck softly–he whimpered again.

“Fuck–Fuck, you’re–” He didn’t finish.

His chest was heaving now, one hand clenching the sheets, the other twitching at his side like he wanted to touch you but didn’t dare. You glanced up again, your eyes meeting his as you took him back into your mouth, deeper this time. His head fell back.

He tried to warn you. “I–I’m gonna–shit–”

You didn’t stop.

You kept going, messy and steady, humming softly around him. That was what pushed him over.

He came hard.

It hit like a jolt–his thighs tensed, a full-body tremble ran through him, and his hips jerked once, deep and involuntary. You swallowed everything, kept your mouth on him, letting him ride everything out with soft, wet pulls until he was gasping, his voice broken and breathless.

“Holy shit…” He whispered, “Holy shit.” You pulled off slowly, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, then kissed the inside of his thigh gently. He twitched under the touch, already so sensitive.

You looked up at him.

His hair was wild against the pillow. His chest was still rising and falling fast. He looked wrecked–in the best way. Flushed and dazed and entirely undone.

“…You okay?” You asked softly, your voice a little hoarse. He nods. His chest rose and fell in shallow waves, a light sheen of sweat just beginning to bead at his collarbones. His voice was rough when he finally spoke.

“You’re…” He swallowed, almost like he didn’t believe it himself. “You’re so good at that.”

You smiled–lazy, warm, lips still glistening from where you’d had him in your mouth. “Glad I didn’t disappoint.”

Then you began kissing your way back up, slow and teasing, your mouth trailing over his thigh, the curve of his hip, the faint dip of his navel. His body tensed in small waves under you, his hands twitching like he wasn’t sure whether to grab you or ground himself.

By the time you reached his chest again, your lips hovered above his, your palms pressed flat against his ribcage as you straddled him once more. The moment your mouths met again–softer now, slower–he kissed you like he could still taste himself on your tongue. Like he didn’t care. Like it made him hungrier.

Then, without a word, he shifted beneath you.

His core tightened–subtle but strong–and his hands slid firmly up your sides. And in one smooth, steady motion, he turned you both. Rolled you right onto your back, his body pressing down over yours, careful but deliberate. The mattress dipped beneath the change in weight, the blanket twisting around your waists as he settled on top of you.

You gasped, then laughed, the sound half-breathless. “Oh, okay,” You whispered, grinning up at him in the moonlight. “You’ve got muscles after all.”

Bob smirked–still shy, still pink in the cheeks, but he liked that reaction. You could tell.

His hands skimmed up beneath the oversized shirt, fingers warm and reverent as they rested just below your ribs. His thumbs rubbed slow, uncertain circles into your skin.

“Is this okay?” He murmured, already breathless again, eyes locked on yours like he’d stop the world if you flinched.

You nodded slowly, voice quiet but steady. “Yeah. Let me take it off for you.”

Bob leaned back just enough to let you sit up, his hands sliding down to brace your waist. You grabbed the hem of the shirt and peeled it up and over your head in one swift motion, the cotton catching briefly at your wrists before falling in a heap beside the bed.

The second you were bare to him, Bob’s eyes darkened. Not with anything aggressive–just wonder. Awe.

Then his mouth was on you immediately.

He leaned down, lips brushing the curve of your breast, then the center of it, then closing over your nipple with a gentleness that made your breath stutter. His mouth was hot–wet and reverent–and when he sucked, slow and careful, your back arched instinctively off the bed.

You heard him moan against you.

It was low and quiet, but you felt the vibration hum through your skin, straight down your spine. One of his hands came up to cup the other breast, thumb flicking across the nipple, just barely grazing it–testing your reaction. You gasped, thighs shifting beneath him, and his fingers twitched in response.

He liked that. He really liked that.

Bob switched sides without warning–his lips moving from one breast to the other, leaving a trail of kisses behind. He sucked more firmly this time, tongue circling your nipple before pulling it into the warmth of his mouth. You couldn’t help it–you let out a soft, broken moan, your fingers threading into his hair.

You tugged. Not hard, but enough.

His breath hitched again, and he groaned into your skin.

The sounds he was making were softer than you’d expected–gentle and desperate all at once. As if pleasuring you was more overwhelming than being pleasured himself. He took his time with your chest, letting each kiss linger, letting each flick of his tongue draw another gasp from you. He alternated pressure, learning what made your back arch, what made you squirm, what made your thighs tremble against his hips.

You tightened your fingers in his curls and whispered, “Bob…Fuck.”

He pulled back, lips red and wet, his breath warm against your breast. His eyes flicked up to yours.

“Can I go down on you?”

The question hit low in your stomach–immediate, electric.

Your lips parted before you even thought. “Yes…” A breath. “Yes, please.”

His smile broke through slow and stunned, like it had just dawned on him that he’d get to do this–that this was real. He kissed your sternum once, then lower, reverent as he worked his way down your body. His hands slid beneath the waistband of your pajama pants, fingers brushing your hips gently.

You lifted your hips in silent offering.

The flannel was untied with fumbling fingers–more eager than graceful–and he tugged it down with care, eyes glued to your body like he couldn’t believe how lucky he was. You helped him, pushing the fabric past your thighs, letting it fall in a heap somewhere at the end of the bed.

Bob shifted between your legs, hands bracing your thighs as he kissed the inside of one, then the other. His short strands of hair brushed your skin, his breath hot and unsteady against the most sensitive part of you, and when he glanced up–eyes wide, lips parted–you thought you might actually combust.

He settled lower. Breathed deep. And then tasted you.

The sound he made was immediate—a choked, guttural moan that vibrated through your entire pelvis.

“Jesus Christ,” he whispered, voice wrecked already. “You taste so good…”

Then his mouth was back on you.

Hot, open, eager.

He didn’t know what he was doing at first—at least not perfectly—but he learned fast. Every whimper, every shift of your hips, every breathless moan was something he studied. His tongue flicked, then flattened. Lapped broad and slow, then circled tight and precise, adjusting to your reactions like he was memorizing you.

The warmth of his mouth was overwhelming. It was everywhere. Wet and insistent and so good.

Your back arched and your hips rolled forward on instinct, chasing the pressure, and he groaned into you again—into you—like the weight of your pleasure was his. His hands gripped your thighs tighter, spreading you open for him, holding you steady like he needed to stay here, buried here, like he couldn’t risk missing anything.

“Bob–oh my god–”

You felt him moan at the sound of his name, his tongue dragging slow and deep, lips sucking just enough to make your breath catch and stutter. It was dirty and worshipful all at once. Sloppy and reverent. It had you squirming against his mouth, your legs trembling on either side of his shoulders.

Then he paused.

Pulled back just barely–just enough to catch his breath and speak. His voice was thick and panting, his lips shiny, chin wet.

“I’m gonna…” He swallowed. “Add fingers.”

You let out a breathy, desperate moan, hips twitching up toward him involuntarily.

“Fuck, Bob…Please.”

He dipped his head again, kissing your clit once–soft and wet–before trailing lower with his tongue as his hand slid between your thighs. You felt the first press of his fingertips at your entrance–tentative, reverent–and then one slipped inside, slow and gentle, curling just enough to make you cry out.

“God,” He breathed, kissing your thigh as he moved. “You’re so wet…”

He added the second without warning–easing it in slowly, stretching you around his knuckles, and you swore the breath left your body in a rush. His fingers filled you, thick and warm and so good, and he started moving them–slow and firm, curling upward just right, just right–and then his mouth was back.

This time, he devoured you.

Messy, hungry, moaning against your clit as his fingers worked inside you, finding a rhythm that had your entire body going taut. You were writhing now–hips lifting, thighs clenching, voice catching in your throat as you tried to stay grounded, stay still, but he was relentless. Determined.

Like he’d waited years to do this and he was making up for lost time.

You felt it building–hot and sharp and inevitable–and your hands found his hair, pulling tight, holding on for dear life as your body surged forward.

“I–I’m gonna–fuck, Bob, don’t stop–”

And he didn’t. He just moaned into you, tongue flicking faster, fingers pumping deeper, curling as he groaned in response to your tightening around him.

You shattered.

Your thighs clamped around his head, heels digging into the mattress, your hips twitching against his face as you came with a full-body spasm, mouth open in a silent cry. You heard yourself babble his name, hips bucking helplessly as the orgasm tore through you, hard and fast and blinding.

Bob kept going. Gentle but steady. Lapping you through it, moaning into you like your pleasure was the best thing he’d ever tasted.

You finally collapsed back into the sheets, breathing ragged, hair clinging to your forehead. You laughed–soft and winded–still twitching every time he brushed too close.

He lifted his head slowly, face flushed, lips slick, chin glistening in the low light. His pupils were blown, chest rising and falling like he’d just run a marathon.

“You okay?” He asked, voice hoarse.

You blinked up at him, dazed and completely blissed out.

“You’ve been blessed…” You dragged in a breath. “With such raw talent.”

Bob blinked–then laughed. Hard. Giddy. His smile broke wide across his face, messy and flushed and so proud. “Yeah?”

You nodded, still catching your breath. “Definitely. You were so good… So, so good.”

His cheeks turned red. “Like, uh… Good enough for a second round?” He teased, voice low. Your smile widened, slow and a little wicked, still flushed and catching your breath. “I think…” You murmured, voice soft but laced with heat, “I want to feel you. Actually.”

Bob’s breath caught. His eyebrows rose just slightly, like the words had short-circuited his brain. “Yeah?” he asked, half-disbelieving.

You nodded, lifting your hand to trace a lazy finger along the line of his jaw. “If you want to, of course.”

His eyes softened instantly. “I want to.” His voice was rough again, thick with desire, but gentled by the way he looked at you. With care. With hunger. With awe.

He crawled slowly up your body, his hands braced beside your ribs, his chest brushing softly against yours. His lips found your collarbone first–featherlight and reverent. Then your neck, where he pressed an open-mouthed kiss just below your ear, tongue flicking briefly against your skin.

You could feel him, hard and hot, dragging against your inner thigh as he moved. It made your hips roll on instinct.

“Going down on you really got me going…” He breathed into your skin, voice low and desperate, hips twitching slightly. His body was shaking with restraint.

You giggled–a breathy, warm sound that made him smile as you turned your face toward him. Your mouths met again, lips pressing together, and you tasted yourself on him–your own slickness still clinging faintly to his lips, his tongue. You kissed him deeper, your hand sliding along his spine.

He pulled back just enough to look at you. “You really want to?”

You nodded, brushing your nose against his. “Do I need a condom?”

You watched his pupils dilate at the question, a harsh breath catching in his throat. “I’m on the pill, and I haven’t had sex in a bit but my recent STD test was clean.” You added, voice even softer now.

“Fuck…” He breathed, voice cracking a little. “Okay.”

He kissed you again, deeper this time–urgent but not rushed. Like he needed to feel you everywhere before he could push in. One of his hands slid down between your bodies, finding the heat between your thighs with instinctive precision. He nudged the tip of himself against your folds, dragging it up and down–slick and hot–through your wetness.

You both groaned.

Your hands gripped his arms, fingers curling into his skin as he slowly began to push in. His body trembled above you, the pace careful but steady, like he wanted to feel every second of it. The stretch burned in the best way–deep, hot, slow.

“Jesus Christ,” Bob whispered, his voice completely wrecked. “You feel so good… You’re so fucking warm…”

You gasped when he bottomed out, hips flush against yours, every inch of him buried deep inside. The fullness made your toes curl, your whole body responding with an involuntary tremble.

He didn’t move right away. Just hovered above you, his breath ragged, his eyes searching your face. He kissed you–softly–his mouth trembling slightly as he whispered:

“You’re perfect. You’re so fucking perfect.”

You moaned at that, your thighs tightening around his waist, your hands sliding up his back and digging in just enough to make him gasp. His hips drew back and rolled forward again–deep, grinding, slow. Each thrust pressed his pubic bone against your clit, and the sensation made your breath stutter.

“Oh–fuck–“ You gasped, your voice catching.

Bob stilled immediately, looking down at you through glassy, blown eyes. “You okay?”

You nodded frantically, hand gripping his bicep. “Yeah. Do it again.”

He did.

Again. And again. A slow, sensual grind that hit exactly right every time. Your hips began to twitch under him, your breath breaking in little gasps as you chased the rhythm with your body.

He moaned into your mouth as he kissed you–lips sloppy now, too lost in the moment to care. Every sound he made was raw: gasps, whimpers, soft broken curses whispered against your lips and skin.

“Fuck… You feel so good, so good around me, sweetheart,” He rasped. “You’re squeezing me—God, you’re… You’re perfect…”

The praise was relentless. You could barely breathe from how hot it made you.

You tightened around him, fluttering involuntarily with every thrust. You were close again–dangerously close–and the next roll of his hips sent a bolt of heat straight through you.

Your orgasm hit with a choked moan, your nails digging into his back, your body clenching tight around him as your hips bucked helplessly. Bob groaned as your walls squeezed him, loud and unfiltered.

“Fuck–I’m gonna–” He gasped, hips stuttering.

Then he buried himself deep, letting out a ragged, whimpering moan as he came inside you, face pressed into your neck. You felt his teeth graze your skin, his whole body trembling with the force of it.

For a moment, you both just lay there–panting, gasping, covered in sweat and warmth and each other.

Then he slowly lifted his head, eyes dazed but bright, cheeks flushed, lips kiss-bruised.

“…Do you,” He began, breathless, “Do you want to go out to dinner with me tomorrow?”

You blinked, and then started laughing–a soft, disbelieving, breathless laugh.

“That would be really great,” You murmured, your voice thick with affection.

Bob grinned, wide and flushed, before collapsing gently beside you on the mattress. Your legs tangled. Your breath slowed. The room hummed in the quiet aftermath, soft and safe and one with the both of you.

[jadeshifting]

— WHAT’S IN MY BAG? ( IN MY OUTER BANKS DR )

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★ ⋆. ࿐࿔

my bag isn’t just a bag, it’s quite literally years of belonging and experience—a testament to my whole life. a weathered bag of leather and canvas, faded from years of sun, salt, and marsh water. i’ve fixed the strap countless times and the bottom is always a little damp from seawater and mud. my belongings are a mix of necessity, habit, and some sentimentals that i won’t leave behind ( even if some are dead weight )

MAP OF KILDARE. it’s not just any map, it’s my map. i’ve spent years putting my own markings on it, mapping out the things i’ve found and learned. it’s practically more valuable than gold ( not really )

PACK OF MARLBORO GOLDS. a habit i got from my mom, i think. i’ll only smoke the golds. my sister thinks it’s a horrible habit, and i agree—but i think everyone needs at least one of those

MOONSTONE ROSARY. a good luck charm, i literally never let it leave my possession. i’m convinced if i let it go for one second i’ll magically pitch of the side of a cliff or something

DIGITAL CAMERA. waterproof, obviously. ( i learned my lesson after the last three )

BUCK KNIFE. old, well-worn, i use it for everything. shucking oysters, cutting rope, and defending myself if necessary. it’s sharp enough to gut a fish, slice through reeds, and anything else i need

TRUCK KEYS. mind you, the truck hasn’t run in ten years. i dunno why i carry them, acting like it’ll make the engine magically clear of dry-rot and rust. still, i do

HEART SUNGLASSES. cheap, plastic firetruck red. they’re shitty and practically block out zero light, but i keep them cause my sister gave them to me and cause they’re kinda cute sometimes

ALABASTER POCKETKNIFE. worn over the years, with ‘Fool For Love’ engraved on the side. it was a hand-me-down from my mom, and that couldn’t have been more true for her

HANDFUL OF SEASHELLS. smooth, and mostly pinky blue, or opalescent off-white. i’ve been meaning to display them or frame them, but i always forget, so they litter the bottom of my bag instead

PAIR OF SHORTS. my clothes get torn to shreds and soaked practically every day i work, so it’s good to have a spare in case i have to go somewhere afterwards

BEER CAN. unopened, lukewarm, dented, probably shaken up all to shit. i forgot it was in there, actually. i don’t even like beer

HAWAIIAN VANILLA PERFUME. a brand new bottle i just splurged on. it’s the only perfume i’ve ever worn since i got my first bottle, for my birthday back in middle school

DECK OF CARDS. i made it a personal goal to learn as many card games as possible, so far i know at least thirty—though some are a lot more boring than others

BAG OF PEACHES. that i bought earlier, perched sooo lightly on the top so they don’t get smushed. i was planning on roasting them ( my sister and i like them roasted and served with a scoop of ice cream ) ( i don’t know who came up with it either, it’s a family ‘recipe’ )

SILVER WATCH. i took it off so it wouldn’t get waterlogged, it’s a shiny antique

SPRAY-ON SUNSCREEN. i know it doesn’t work as well, but i’d need thirty hours in a day to have the time to slather on lotion sunscreen every time i was charring out in the sun—it’s just not efficient

HEADPHONES. waterproof and over-ear. the sound of the waves crashing against the cliffs is roaring and i’m convinced it would’ve made me deaf by now if i couldn’t opt to listen to The Cranberries instead

COPY OF ‘CIRCE’ BY MADELINE MILLER. i have to hang it out to dry on the clothes line out back, it got wet :(

WATERPROOF MASCARA. i quite literally won’t get caught dead without it. you can take anything away from me BUT my eyelashes

SPOON. sturdy and metal, used to pit peaches or avocados in a pinch, or dig into a coconut if i’m really desperate

COCONUT OIL. in a really sketchy-looking glass bottle with “coconut oil” scrawled across the front in black marker. still, it’s imperative, good for everything—cooking, soothing, moisturizing when the sun tries to crack your skin off, etc

WATERWORN POLAROID. of just me and my sister. the edges are perpetually damp, but i’m careful to keep it from tearing

HERMIT CRAB SHELL. my sister’s hermit crab is about to change shells, i told her i’d bring a really good one home for him. i literally spent two weeks searching the beach until i found this one

GOLD LIGHTER. for smoking or starting a fire, i can count on it rain-or-shine

LEATHER GLOVES. the oyster shells are razor-sharp, i already have plenty of tiny, shiny scars to prove it. the gloves help a little, even if they’re permanently stained with salt and mud

CRACKED COMPASS. it’s been broken for a long, long time, but i know my directions well enough that i’ve never made the effort to get it fixed

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★ ⋆. ࿐࿔

[nausicaamusiclover20]

anything with current kirk x reader (f) pleasee~

Hope you like it! 💕

Dancing with the waves

The soft murmur of the waves and the salty breeze blended with the rustling pages of my book as I lay on our beach towel. The sun, warm but not overwhelming, bathed my skin in a golden glow, the perfect balance of summer heat and ocean coolness. The beach stretched out before me, the horizon a shimmering blue line where the sea kissed the sky. I was perfectly content, the world melting away as I turned each page.

But of course, he had other plans.

"Are you seriously still reading?" His playful voice broke my concentration, and I looked up to see him standing at the water’s edge, surfboard under one arm, droplets of water gleaming on his toned chest, catching the sunlight like little diamonds.

I smirked, tucking a finger between the pages to mark my place. "And are you seriously still showing off?"

His signature mischievous grin spread across his face as he sauntered toward me. "You know, you're just jealous of my natural skills," he teased, shaking his hair out like a dog, sending tiny droplets of water spraying over me and my book.

"Hey!" I squealed, holding my book up to shield myself from the assault. "Do you mind?"

He dropped onto the towel beside me, leaning back on his hands, his skin glistening in the sunlight. "You’ve been buried in that thing all morning. Time for some action."

I raised an eyebrow, watching him from over the top of my book. "You call flailing around on a surfboard action?"

He nudged my shoulder playfully. "Come on, I’ll teach you. How hard can it be?"

"Famous last words," I muttered, but before I could protest further, he was already tugging me to my feet. My book slipped from my hands, forgotten on the towel as he led me toward the surfboard.

"Okay," he said, positioning the board in the shallow water, his hands steady on my waist, "just trust me. Stand up slow, keep your balance. And don’t panic."

The feel of his strong hands holding me made it hard to resist. With a deep breath, I stepped onto the board, already wobbling. The water lapped gently at my ankles, but I was more focused on not embarrassing myself by immediately falling.

"You’re doing great!" he called out with a grin as he slowly let go of my waist, backing away.

I gave him a tight smile, trying my best to stay upright, but within moments, my balance wavered, and—splash!—I toppled right into the water.

The cold shock of the ocean took my breath away, and when I resurfaced, sputtering, I was greeted by his uncontrollable laughter. He doubled over, clutching his sides.

"Okay, okay," I said through my own laughter, shaking the water from my hair, "I think I’m done."

"Not yet!" he protested, grabbing my hand and pulling me back to the board. "One more try."

I gave him a mock glare but climbed back onto the board nonetheless. Every attempt ended the same—with me plunging headfirst into the water while he laughed until he was out of breath. Each fall was more dramatic than the last, and by the end, my sides ached from laughing as much as from the effort.

Eventually, we collapsed back onto the sand, drenched, exhausted, and grinning like fools. "I think I’ll stick to reading," I muttered, wringing out my wet hair.

He pulled me closer, draping a towel around my shoulders and pressing a kiss to my damp forehead. "You were pretty good at falling, though."

I elbowed him lightly, but the affectionate smile on my face betrayed me. "Thanks for the vote of confidence."

We sat there for a while, the warmth of the sun drying our soaked clothes, and the sound of seagulls overhead mingling with the rhythmic crash of the waves. Eventually, our stomachs started rumbling, and we unpacked the sandwiches we had brought, sitting side by side, our feet buried in the warm sand as we ate. The world around us was busy—people laughing, kids building sandcastles—but for a moment, it felt like it was just us, in our own little bubble.

After lunch, he stood up and stretched, his muscles rippling in the sunlight. "Ready for a swim?"

I glanced at the water warily. "No way, it’s freezing!"

He grinned down at me, that mischievous glint back in his eyes. "You’ll warm up."

Before I could protest further, he scooped me up into his arms, making me shriek with surprise. "Put me down!" I laughed, half-heartedly kicking my legs, but his grip was firm as he waded into the water, the cool waves splashing against his legs.

"I don’t think so," he teased, walking deeper into the ocean. "Besides, I’m your personal heater."

As he dipped me lower into the water, he gave me a mock-serious look. "You know, this is shark territory."

I narrowed my eyes at him, suppressing a laugh. "Don’t even."

"Oh, didn’t you know?" he continued, his voice low and dramatic. "I’m actually part shark."

I dissolved into giggles. "You’re ridiculous." 

Then, to my surprise, he leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to my cheek, his lips lingering for just a moment before pulling back, his eyes sparkling with mischief. 

"Don't worry," he said, "I'm only here to protect you." 

We spent the next few minutes playfully wrestling in the water, splashing each other like kids, our laughter mixing with the crash of the waves.

When we finally tired, we swam lazily together, floating on our backs and staring up at the clear blue sky. Eventually, when the sun began to dip lower, painting the sky in hues of pink and gold, we wandered back to shore, hand in hand.

We spread the towels out again, this time sitting close, our shoulders touching. The beach had quieted down as the evening settled in, and the sound of the waves was soothing, like nature’s lullaby. I leaned my head on his shoulder, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath me. His arm wrapped around me, pulling me closer, and I felt a sense of perfect peace wash over me.

"Perfect day," I whispered, my voice soft against the backdrop of the ocean.

He pressed a kiss to the top of my head, his lips lingering there for a moment. "I’d say so."

As we sat in the fading light, watching the sun disappear below the horizon, I felt a warmth spread through me that had nothing to do with the sun. It was moments like this, wrapped in each other’s presence, that made everything else fall away.

It felt like home.

[101emo]

Hair: 101 What do I do with this mop??

So, you've decided to convert to the dark side. Or maybe you just want the hairstyle- who knows. But here's where to start.

In this post there step by step instructions on:

Haircuts and styles.

How to style your hair.

Guidance on dye.

Haircare.

There's more. You name it, its here. Lets get to it. ───────────────────────

Step 1: Haircut. For the love of whatever you believe in, do not cut it yourself if you don't know what you're doing.

Find a salon you trust. I always go to this one barber shop near my house, the girl who does my hair has good reviews, she's both a hairdresser and a barber- and overall just knows what the heck she's doing. Finding a salon/barber shop you trust is crucial about getting the results you're after. Good haircuts can range from $25-$60 depending on what you're looking to do and how drastic of a change you're making. How can I trust a shop?? Check for reviews, word of mouth or check if they have a social media page to see what they're about and what they've done in the past. Or find someone who specializes in certain styles.

Tip!: One of my red flags is that the place doesn't take card in this day and age.

Figure out which side you want your hair to cover. There's a little trick to figure out which side is the best to have covered; - Make a triangle with your fingers and hold it roughly half an arms length from your face. - With both eyes open, centre something across the room from you inside of that triangle. - Close one eye, then the other. - Which eye keeps that item inside of the triangle? That's your dominant eye. That's the one you'll keep uncovered. -

Reference images. Check out Pinterest, Google- the ways to get images are endless. Check around the web and gather yourself up a whole board of front, side and back images of what you want your hair to look like. I got an entire board before I trusted anyone to touch my hair. Keep in mind your hair length, type and maintenance it would take to keep that haircut as it is.

Tip!: Search for things like emo hair, emo haircut, emo hairstyles, 2000s hairstyles and whack your gender on the end of it.

Ask for specifics. You've found yourself a salon, gathered up a whole range of reference images- cool. What you're gonna do is show them your reference board, your camera roll- whatever you saved your images to. Verbally ask for things like choppy layers or just layers, side-swept bangs, 'emo/scene hair', the tellum cut, that kind of stuff. Show them how you part your hair and what side you sweep that mop to.

Fingers crossed you've gotten what you're looking for x

───────────────────────

HELP!1! You got a botched haircut? Don't stress it, I've had my fair share of those.

Worst comes to worst?

Step 1.5: Haircut, the DIY style. Let's try to fix this the best way we can- or just save cash cutting your hair yourself.

What you need: - Scissors, the hair cutting kind. - Thinning sheers. - Eyebrow or a face razor. - Spray bottle. - A towel. - Protection against angry parents.

Wet your hair. Never cut your hair dry, it always ends up choppy and never lays right- not in the good way. Plus, natural hair has some spring to it. Especially considering you're more than likely looking into straightening it later on. I'm not talking a little damp, I mean full on drenched- but not dripping. -

Grab your tools. Get everything ready and set out. Clip a towel over your shoulders to avoid the hair falling onto your clothing. Stand in front of the mirror and make sure you have one for the back of your head too.| You can buy hair cutting tools from places like Kmart, Target or even supermarkets and drugstores. -

Get your references. Make sure to grab up your wall of references- look at those as much as possible when cutting your hair. That means back, front, sides- bangs. -

Section your hair. Clip your sections off and get to cutting. Cut slow, don't take too much off. You can always cut more off but you can't exactly stick it back on when you fuck up.

Tip!: Use clips to section off hair to make it easier to see what you have and haven't done.

Snippy snippy. Use your scissors to cut off larger chunks of hair, thin out the ends using the sheers- light handed. Your razor is used to taper in the edges of your hair for those layers, make sure you stick to small sections. Even out the sides of your hair, the parts that lay before your ears. They're meant to have a tiered layer look to them that ends in a spike. Cut your ends by pulling them out to the side of your head so you can see them from the front, do the same as you did before with your sides. Bangs is up to you and how you style them. Chuck some layers throughout your hair, they don't have to be perfect, just to add a bit of texture and shag. -

Clean up. If all went well- clean up the evidence, use a hair dryer to blow off the hair onto the floor and vacuum/sweep it all up.

If you mess up, don't panic. Hair grows back- beanies were invented for a reason.

───────────────────────

Step 2: Dye time. Though optional, it's fun to explore. For this one, you don't need to go to a salon. You can do it at home and I prefer it that way to always get the results I'm looking for.

What you need: - Box dye. - A dark towel (black is best). - Vaseline. - Wipes. - Gloves.

Find some dye. Take a trip to your nearest supermarket or drugstore. Aim for cruelty free brands, avoid dyes with harsh chemicals to prevent hair damage and don't skimp out on the cost. Cheap dye can really damage your hair. I've learnt the hard way after dying my hair black for about two years now. -

Protect your skin (and your countertops). Slather some Vaseline over your ears, head, neck- wherever you think the dye may touch on your skin. It creates a barrier and trust me, black is super hard to get off of your skin. Opt for darker surfaces or sinks when dying your hair a vivid bright or pitch black- stay away from manic panic! That shit stains EVERYTHING. Most dye kits come with gloves, but it wouldn't hurt investing in some that actually fit you- or you could be chaotic and go in bare-handed. Do a patch test before dying your full head, trust me. As someone with sensitive skin- you don't want an allergic reaction on your scalp. -

Get to it. Follow the instructions on the packet. Dye your full head or just some- it's up to you. I would opt for cooler or even just cold water when you rinse your dye out, I've found it sets the colour better, makes it stick longer and fades less quickly. -

Aftercare. Make sure your hair is conditioned well and not brushed when wet to avoid damage. Some dyes come with aftercare conditioner- if not? Just slap some coconut oil on and call it a day.

Tip!: Grab a root cover spray in the same colour that you got your box dye in so you don't have to dye your hair as often- especially since black is a shit to maintain.

───────────────────────

Step 3: Wash and care. How do you take care of your hair and keep it nourished? Follow my routine as a guide below.

What you need: - Shampoo. - Conditioner. - Hair mask (optional). - Coconut oil. - Leave in conditioner/serum.

Scalp oil. Once a week, if your hair gets dry, get some coconut oil and lather it on your scalp. Rosemary, almond and jojoba all work too, but I've found coconut works best for my hair. Leave the oil sitting from anywhere between 5-20 minutes. -

Shampoo. Get some shampoo, argan oil from Herbal Essences is my personal favourite, literally gets all the nasty from my hair and leaves it so shiny. I don't always double cleanse my hair since I tend to wash it every 2-3 days.

Tip!: Younger people (between 12-21) need to wash their hair more often because of their oil glands. - Oily hair? Wash every 1-3 days. - Dry scalp? You may be washing too much. cut back to 4-7 days. - Bleached hair? Wash once a week to avoid damage.

Shampoo again. The first lot of shampoo was to clean off any of the excess dirt and oils in your hair, this one is more of a deep cleanse. I would recommend getting a scalp scrubber and getting in there during this shampoo. -

Condition. I use the matching conditioner from Herbal Essences, it makes my hair suuuper soft and hydrated. I love it and recommend it to almost everyone. Plus, they're both really affordable. I don't use masks because of this conditioner, but if you want to mask your hair- don't condition on the same day! -

Leave in/serum. I use the Elvive brand, both for serum and leave in. Both because they hydrate my hair really well, leave it fluffy and have heat protectant in them. They don't run me much cost either.

───────────────────────

Step 4: Styling. Want that pin straight perfect hair? Here's how.

What you need: - Hair dryer. - Hair straightener. - Heat protectant. - A thin comb. - Your usual hairbrush. - Hair spray.

Wash and dry. Once you finish the routine above, or even have inspiration for your own- towel dry your hair or air dry it a little bit so its not dripping wet. I toss my hair up in a turban wrap and leave that on for a little while instead of towel drying my hair. -

Protect. Spray or slather some heat protectant on your damp hair to stop it from damaging due to constant heat usage. I like keratin products because they help with damage I might have caused by not protecting my hair earlier. Don't be like me. -

Blow dry. Blow dry your hair on the highest setting until its not so damp anymore, this also helps to straighten out your hair (or it does for me). Flick the heat down one and continue to dry as normal.

Tip!: Don't dry your hair upwards if you want it to lay flat! Dry from the top of your head down.

Straighten. Depending on your hair type, you may need to straighten on a higher setting. I whack mine on medium and run the iron across my bangs and sides mostly, the dryer straightens the back for my hair- though you may need to do your whole head. -

Spray. Cover a brush with some hairspray and comb it through your hair to keep the frizz to a minimum and to make sure it stays straight. For my bangs, I get a thin comb and repeat the process but going underneath it too.

───────────────────────

Follow for more x Updates every week, Tuesday and Thursday. 6:30pm GMT +11.

[littlewigglers]

hi!!! you dont have to answer this but a few months ago (august) i got a Giant Gold Millipede (Orthroporus ornatus) and I'd love to know what you do to have a vivarium like I've seen in your posts!

Also, is she going to be alright if I get another millipede, or springtails, or put isopods inside? I haven't honestly seen much information, and I'd love to be pointed towards some sources or get advice directly! Thank you :)

Here's Sisyphus and her tank! There's a vinegar trap in the corner to catch fruit flies (if theres a solution for that let me know, but i know the decaying material and the moisture is going to attract them), a tray where I usually put her food, and a toilet paper roll for her to curl up in. She's dug a handful of tunnels as well. There's a heating pad to keep it Somewhat Warm on the left side, especially since she's right by the back door and against an outside wall.

I usually feed her twice to four times a week, or when I notice she's lost interest in her current food. I try to water her every day, but sometimes I do a more heavy spray if I miss one.

Hey there first off love Sisyphus, give her a kiss for me on her little head.

To answer your questions I'm gonna bullet point them to keep myself right.

Springtails are a tanks best friend, completely harmless to your pets and they help keep any mold down, highly recommend getting a culture of them. I personally just keep them in my tanks but a friend of mine has a separate tank he keeps a a back up culture of them in encase the tank ones die out.

I'm mixed on keeping isopods in with Millipedes. They're always in my tanks because I just can't get them out and they don't seem to do any harm but after a few months they always end up over running my tanks and I have to clear them out. They're also know to eat eggs so they're a real pain if you're trying to breed your millipedes. If you really want some I'd recommend a slower breeding species of them. Those seem to be the little armadillo ones, the ones that can curl up all cute.

I could get your millipede another little millipede friend, they do seem to be more active when I've had more than one together, even if it's just the same species which is always the safest bet. If you do want to get another but different species make sure they have the same needs in terms of space, soil, temp, humidity and food.

As for the flies and tank

I use fly trap stickers, the ones you'd put on your window in my tank. It might sound dangerous for the Millipedes but you can either put it on the top of the tank or cut it up into smaller part. Also with my bigger species they literally treat the stickers like a buffet and have no problems walking over the surface of them with their feet. It goes without saying but no NOT get any chemical traps for them.

I'd say the key thing you're missing from your tank is hids and places to climb, you've lots of nice pieces of wood scattered about but nothing lifted up to make a little 'cave' as well as something to climb over. Cork bark is the go to most people use, I also have some pretreated drift wood I got from an aquarium store in mine as well. Careful though! if you give them things to climb make sure the tank is escape proof.

Just something I noticed myself, make sure to check under the moss now and again to make sure the soil itself is staying a nice leave of damp but not too wet. I've had mine get dry when the moss looked wet before.

If you've the funds I'd suggest getting a little timer plug for the heatmat to 1. make sure the tank doesn't get over heated 2. to save some electricity.

I personally don't mist every single day as an overly humid tank isn't always great for a millipede depending on the species. They can end up with leg rot if there the tanks kept too wet.

Other advice I can give

Remove food from the tank after a few days for sure. It stops mold from happening and also helps stop any smell building up

Try not to let the food sit in water, I see you have a little dish for it and it will easily collect water and just makes the food kinda mold faster and stink.

The paper tube you have is also just another thing than can get mold on it, you'd be better off removing it I think.

If you add wood to the tank to use as hides made sure to check on it now and again for mold.

You're probably getting the theme of this now but NO MOLD!! Make sure to check the tank for mold now and again, it's not good for your little guys.

As for like links and resources I buy all my stuff from local reptiles stores so I can't really help much there with links of sites, I also don't DIY any of my stuff from like the ground either so I can't give tips on that either. Only thing I can really help with is I have an exo terra tank, I got it second hand and you'd be really surprised what you can get second hand either on local buy and sell groups, facebook market place or even just being cheeky and asking reptile stores if they have any old tanks that aren't fit to sell on shelves anymore. I got mine as a reptile store heavily discounted because someone had got something stuck on the doors and they jam a little now and have a mark on the front.

I THINK that's everything I can think of, hope it helps.

[jack-daww]

A (very late) birthday present for @witchy-self-shipper ! Happy birthday and I hope you enjoy!

You can hear the water rushing far before you see the actual waterfall. No, that's not quite right. You did see the waterfall, when you were standing further down the river. When you looked up the mountain and saw this waterfall, smaller compared to the big one most people visit, and decided you were going there.

The sound of rushing water gets louder and then louder still. The waterfall is still hidden behind the towering trees, but if you look hard enough, you can almost convince yourself that you can see the spray between the tips of the trees like a thin mist. You can taste it, too. Not salty like the ocean, but definitely different from how the air tastes otherwise.

You round the last corner and there it is. The waterfall is taller than it looked from down by the foot of the mountain, where you saw it in direct contrast to the much bigger waterfall. But this is better, you're sure of that.

You look up and the water itself is surrounded by a white mist, rushing down and down and down. The ground is wet starting just a few steps in front of you. You walk forwards, careful not to slip on the damp dirt. There are no other people here.

You can't see the bottom of the mountain, hidden by the trees as it is, but that's fine. You'll look down when you get higher up, if you decide to go further. For now, though, you're here.

The waterfall thunders into a deeper part of the riverbed, getting shallower on it's way down the mountain. You might even be able to wade across in the shallower parts of it, though you'd have to carry your backpack over your head. The riverbed is surrounded by a stony shore, some larger rocks reaching into the water itself.

Some meters back from the other side, the trees pick up again, though unlike the side you're standing on, there is no path in that direction.

You hesitate, before setting your backpack down on a dry spot. It's on some larger stones, far enough away that the spray of the waterfall won't reach it but close enough that you can keep an eye on it. You eye the rocks leading into the deeper parts of the river. Most of them are wet from the spray, but some are dry enough that you could stand on them.

Finding a way onto the larger rocks that doesn't involve climbing is difficult, but you manage. Some rock are close enough together, in both space and size, that you manage to walk up them almost like stairs. You still need to be careful where you step, but you end up standing on a larger rock, a bit off the riverside.

The spray is already starting to dampen your hair, waterdroplets landing on the skin of your face and arms. It's comfortably cool, refreshing after your hike. You shoot a look at your backpack. You have food and water with you, but you're not quite hungry yet. So for now, you decide to sit down.

You let your legs hang off the side of the larger rock you're on, your shoes almost scuffing the dry rock you used on your way up to the one you're sitting on. The water underneath you is clear enough to see to the bottom of the river, at least further down from the waterfall where it has settled and the airbubbles have all risen to the surface, the foam dissolved.

It would be quiet here, you think, if the constant noise of the water wasn't thundering in the background, but you find you don't mind it. It's calming.

You sigh and close your eyes, leaning back on your arms. The spray keeps hitting your skin, your hair is starting to stick to your face. It's nice.

You're not quite sure how long you sit there like that, listening to the water and feeling the drops hit your skin, but eventually your arms start to protest carrying so much of your weight. You open your eyes and lean forward, shaking your arms out at your side.

You carefully let yourself slip forward until you're standing on the smaller rock your shoes were hovering over before. You make your way to solid ground again before you stretch your arms and back. It was a bad idea to stay in that position for so long, but there is nothing to do about that now.

Your backpack is still where you left it and you pick it up, looking around. There is no bench to sit here, but some of the rocks will do just fine. You hum to yourself and though you can't quite hear the sound over how loud the waterfall is, you can feel it in your throat. Yeah, you should drink something.

The rocks you end up picking are further away from the waterfall and completely dry. It's a surprise how quickly the sound of the water dampens when you're no longer right next to it.

You pull out your waterbottle and take a look at your watch before you take a swig. Yeah, you won't climb higher today. After your break, you'll just make your way back down. That's fine, there's always tomorrow.

You open a dose of cookies and take one, watching the spray glitter in the air as the water continues rushing down. You can't help but smile. You're not in a rush.

[akanshagoyall]

Can Your Tent Handle a Monsoon? Features to Look For

When you think about a trekking tent, the first things that come to mind are protection, peace, and portability. But how do you know your trekking tent will truly stand up to the challenges of nature? Whether you’re heading into high-altitude winds, thick forest trails, or wildlife zones, testing your trekking tent for real-life survival is essential. A tent that looks great in your backyard may not hold up during a thunderstorm in the mountains.

In this blog, let’s talk about how your trekking tent reacts to real outdoor conditions—from windstorms to curious animals—and why proper testing can make or break your entire trekking experience.

1. Why Field Testing a Trekking Tent Matters

Your trekking tent is more than just a travel accessory. It’s your shelter in the wild, your safe zone after a long day on foot. No matter how lightweight or compact it is, if it fails in a storm or collapses during the night, it can ruin your trip—or worse, become dangerous.

Field testing ensures your trekking tent can handle unexpected situations. Testing it in different environments helps you understand its strengths and limits before your real trek begins.

2. Windstorm Resistance: The Real Test of Strength

High-speed winds can be a trekking tent’s worst enemy. A strong gust can bend poles, snap clips, or even rip fabric apart. Before your trek, take your trekking tent to an open area and test it in strong wind. Anchor it with proper stakes, and check how tightly the fabric holds up.

Even if the tent says it’s “windproof,” nothing beats real-time testing. Practice pitching it in rough conditions—your life may depend on how fast you can secure it.

Quick Tip: Pitch your trekking tent with the narrow side facing the wind. This reduces wind drag and increases stability.

3. Rain, Moisture & Mud: Will Your Trekking Tent Stay Dry?

Even a light drizzle can feel like a flood if your trekking tent isn’t well sealed. Test it during rainy weather or simulate rain with a water hose. Focus on the seams, zippers, and floor. If water leaks through, seal those areas with waterproof tape or spray before your actual trek.

Also, check how fast the trekking tent dries after rain. A tent that stays wet for too long becomes heavy and smells bad.

4. Wildlife Encounters: The Forgotten Test

Many people forget to test how their trekking tent handles curious animals. While no tent is 100% animal-proof, some offer better protection than others. In forested regions, small animals like raccoons or monkeys can tear into a tent for food.

Test your trekking tent by placing food inside (temporarily) and seeing how animals react. It gives you an idea of how strong the zippers and fabric are. On the trail, always keep food outside the tent to avoid attracting wildlife.

5. Ventilation and Breathability in the Wild

One underrated aspect of a good trekking tent is airflow. A poorly ventilated tent traps condensation, making your sleeping bag and gear damp by morning. Set up your trekking tent in warm and cold conditions to see how well it breathes.

Look for mesh panels, dual-layer doors, and adjustable vents. Test how comfortable it feels when closed completely and when partially open.

6. Floor Durability Test: Rocks, Roots, and Rough Ground

The tent floor is constantly in contact with rough surfaces. Lay your trekking tent on different types of terrain—rocky, muddy, grassy—and check for wear and tear. You can also place some weighted gear inside to test if the floor material tears or stretches.

Use a groundsheet underneath to extend the life of your trekking tent. It also prevents water from seeping in during rain.

7. Cold-Weather Compatibility

In colder regions, your trekking tent must trap warmth without suffocating you. Test it overnight in cool temperatures. See how well it insulates heat and whether you wake up dry or damp. Even if you don’t plan on trekking in snow, night-time temperatures in the mountains drop fast.

8. Packing and Setup in the Dark

One of the most important real-life tests of a trekking tent is how easily you can pack or pitch it in low light. You may arrive at a campsite after dark or need to move early in the morning. Practice setting up and packing your trekking tent with a headlamp or no light at all.

If it's confusing or time-consuming, it may not be ideal for serious treks.

9. Weight and Carry Test

How your trekking tent feels on your back matters. Pack it with the rest of your gear and go on a practice trek. Check if the weight feels balanced. A tent that looks light on paper may feel heavy when combined with your stove, clothes, and sleeping bag.

Testing weight and comfort while walking will help you decide if the trekking tent suits your trek’s difficulty level.

10. Real Trek, Real Conditions: Final Field Run

Before heading for your main trek, take your trekking tent on a weekend trail or a short mountain trip. Face the elements, sleep in it, pack and unpack it, and adjust. This is the most realistic test of all.

A trekking tent that performs well in these conditions is more likely to succeed on longer, harder trails.

Final Thoughts

Choosing the right trekking tent isn’t just about specs—it’s about experience. Real-world testing helps you trust your gear, sleep better, and stay safer. Whether you’re camping under the stars or in a windy alpine meadow, your trekking tent

 is your home. Test it well before you trust it completely.

[tameblog]

Economical and easy to install, laminate countertops help homeowners reduce the high cost of installing bath or kitchen countertops. However, one downside is that they are easily damaged. Laminate countertop material can be dented, cracked, or scratched. It's also common for parts of the laminate to peel up from its fiberboard base, leaving other parts attached. Fortunately, laminate countertops can be repaired with some innovative tricks and tools. Learn laminate countertop repair for anything from stains and light scratches to deep gouges and cracks. Stains Like other countertops, laminate can stain. Some stains (hair dyes, tars, tannic acids, etc.) are permanent and cannot be removed. Other stains (food, coffee, tea, lemon juice, inks, or water marks) can be removed with household cleaning products. Use mild household cleaners, such as Fantastik All Purpose Cleaner, Formula 409, or Pine-Sol. Do not use abrasives. Apply product: Spray the mild cleaning product on the stain.Let it sit: Let the product sit on the laminate for 10 to 15 minutes to draw out the stain.Blot: Blot away the stained cleaning product with a clean, damp (not dry) non-abrasive cotton cloth.Rinse: Rinse with clean water, using a different cotton cloth.Repeat: Clean two or three more times until the stain is removed.Try with alcohol: If repeating doesn't work, try cleaning with denatured alcohol and a clean cotton cloth. Warning Denatured alcohol is safe for most laminates. However, be sure to check with your countertop manufacturer's instructions first. Do not use alcohol or any other solvent if the countertop has been painted. Want more home reno project tips and inspiration? Sign up for our free daily newsletter for the latest how-tos, reno guides, and more! Peeling Laminate countertop may peel or delaminate in large sections after water damage or simply due to age, as the laminate glue loses its strength.  Large sections of peeling laminate countertop can be glued back into place as long as the MDF base is still in good condition. Contact cement is the adhesive that was originally used to glue the laminate to its base, so repairing the countertop is just a matter of using contact cement again. Assess the base: Run your hand under the peeled section of the laminate to make sure that the MDF is in good condition. If the MDF is swollen and bumpy due to water damage, you won't be able to reapply the laminate (replace the counter instead). Elevate the laminate: Slide a dowel or thin wooden stick between the laminate and base to elevate the laminate.Scrape old cement: Use a putty knife to scrape off old, brittle cement from the top of the MDF base and the bottom of the laminate. Vacuum away the remnants.Apply cement: Apply a thin layer of contact cement to the bottom of the laminate and to the top of the MDF base.Wait: Wait for 15 minutes (or as indicated by the contact cement instructions). Before sticking them together, each side must feel tacky to the touch.Remove the support: Remove the dowel or wooden stick, letting the laminate contact the base.Add pressure: Lay a heavy weight, such as a stack of books, on the repaired section. Let it rest for about 30 minutes before removing. Important Contact cement works differently from other types of glue. You must apply the cement to both sides and keep them apart for 15 minutes before attaching them. Broken Edges Laminate countertop edges are prone to peeling away or breaking off because they are so thin and are exposed to impact.  Broken or peeled laminate countertop sections can often be glued back into place with heat. A clothes iron or a heat gun reactivates the old glue, softening it and making it sticky again.  Assess the glue: Make sure that there is still glue on the back of the laminate or on the base. If there is no glue, use the peeling surfaces repair method (using contact cement).Heat the iron: Heat the iron to HIGH. The iron should be set to DRY, with no steam.Replace the laminate: Put the broken piece of laminate edge back in place. Apply painter's tape to temporarily hold it.Place the cloth: Lay thick fabric, such as a hand towel, against the laminate.Iron the laminate: Slide the iron back and forth across the laminate edge for about 20 seconds. Make sure to keep the cloth between the iron and the laminate edge.Let it cool: Wait two or three minutes for the glue to cool down and gain strength.Remove the tape: Remove the painter's tape. Lightly pull up an edge of the patch to ensure the laminate is firmly in place. Missing Edges Laminate countertop edges that have broken off and are missing can be repaired by using good laminate donated from other parts of the countertop.  It can be difficult to find new matching laminate to use as a repair material. So, you'll find a better color match by cutting laminate from hidden areas of the countertop. Find donor sections: Locate sections of good donor laminate edging. You'll find these by pulling out ranges, refrigerators, or dishwashers and looking on the sides of the countertop.Measure donor laminate: Measure out a section of donor laminate edge equal to the length of the missing edge.Score donor laminate: Score several lines down the laminate edge with a utility knife. The score should be reasonably deep, but cutting all the way through is unnecessary.Heat donor laminate: Place a hand towel over the donor section of the laminate. Place a HIGH dry (not steam) clothes iron over the donor section for about 20 seconds.Remove donor laminate: With a putty knife or utility knife, peel off the donor section of laminate quickly before the softened glue hardens.Repair the missing edge: Place the section of donor laminate over the missing area. Place a towel over the donor laminate patch and hold an iron on HIGH on the towel for 20 seconds.Check the patch: After the patch has cooled for two or three minutes, check it to ensure that it is firmly stuck in place. Light Scratches Laminate countertops may develop light scratches from knife cuts or from heavy, rough materials being slid across them. Unlike other countertop materials like solid surface or wood, laminate counters cannot be sanded down smooth.  To repair a lightly scratched laminate countertop, apply paste wax-based furniture polish and rub the wax smooth with a microfiber cloth. The shiny coat effectively disguises the scratches and will hold up to light use for a week or two before recoating is needed. Clean the countertop: Clean the countertop with warm water and mild soap. Rinse with clean water.Add polish: Rub paste furniture polish over the scratched laminate countertop. Coat the entire countertop, not just the scratched portion.Polish: Polish the wax vigorously by hand, using a microfiber cloth.  Repeat: Repeat with two or three coats. This will disguise most scratches. You Might Need... You must use a microfiber cloth, not a cotton towel, since its synthetic fibers encourage the wax to develop a glossier sheen. We tested several types for durability, longevity, and cost to bring you the best microfiber cloths. Cracks Cracks and deep scratches in laminate countertops cannot be disguised with wax polish. However, they can be spot-repaired with hard wax putty sticks. Wax sticks look like crayons and can be purchased individually in colors that match solid-color laminate countertops. For variegated color or stone-look laminate, purchase a kit of several colors to better blend the patch to the counter's texture. Heat the stick: Heat the end of the wax stick with a heat gun or hair dryer for about 10 to 15 seconds. Do not overheat; you only want to soften the end of the stick lightly.Apply the wax: Spread the softened end of the wax stick into the crack or scratch. You should end up with a slight bulge of wax.Spread the wax: With the flat side of a putty knife, smooth the wax flush to match the level of the surrounding laminate surface. If the wax doesn't smooth down well, reapply heat for a few seconds. Gouges Repair gouges, dents, and deep scratches in laminate countertop by filling the void with a synthetic color-matched filler. Preferably, use a laminate-specific filler. Alternatively, you can use wood putty to fill the laminate void. Since wood putty is light-brown, you will need to apply a hard wax putty stick on top to match the countertop's color. Sand edges: Deep gouges in laminate often have ragged edges, so sand them down with a light pass with 220-grit sandpaper.Clean with solvent: Clean the gouge and the surrounding few inches with laminate countertop solvent. If using SeamFil, use Kampel's SF-99 SeamFil Solvent.Apply filler: Press the filler deeply into the gouge with the flat side of the putty knife.Smooth filler: Smooth the filler flush with the surrounding laminate, using the putty knife. Source link

[ramestoryworld]

Economical and easy to install, laminate countertops help homeowners reduce the high cost of installing bath or kitchen countertops. However, one downside is that they are easily damaged. Laminate countertop material can be dented, cracked, or scratched. It's also common for parts of the laminate to peel up from its fiberboard base, leaving other parts attached. Fortunately, laminate countertops can be repaired with some innovative tricks and tools. Learn laminate countertop repair for anything from stains and light scratches to deep gouges and cracks. Stains Like other countertops, laminate can stain. Some stains (hair dyes, tars, tannic acids, etc.) are permanent and cannot be removed. Other stains (food, coffee, tea, lemon juice, inks, or water marks) can be removed with household cleaning products. Use mild household cleaners, such as Fantastik All Purpose Cleaner, Formula 409, or Pine-Sol. Do not use abrasives. Apply product: Spray the mild cleaning product on the stain.Let it sit: Let the product sit on the laminate for 10 to 15 minutes to draw out the stain.Blot: Blot away the stained cleaning product with a clean, damp (not dry) non-abrasive cotton cloth.Rinse: Rinse with clean water, using a different cotton cloth.Repeat: Clean two or three more times until the stain is removed.Try with alcohol: If repeating doesn't work, try cleaning with denatured alcohol and a clean cotton cloth. Warning Denatured alcohol is safe for most laminates. However, be sure to check with your countertop manufacturer's instructions first. Do not use alcohol or any other solvent if the countertop has been painted. Want more home reno project tips and inspiration? Sign up for our free daily newsletter for the latest how-tos, reno guides, and more! Peeling Laminate countertop may peel or delaminate in large sections after water damage or simply due to age, as the laminate glue loses its strength.  Large sections of peeling laminate countertop can be glued back into place as long as the MDF base is still in good condition. Contact cement is the adhesive that was originally used to glue the laminate to its base, so repairing the countertop is just a matter of using contact cement again. Assess the base: Run your hand under the peeled section of the laminate to make sure that the MDF is in good condition. If the MDF is swollen and bumpy due to water damage, you won't be able to reapply the laminate (replace the counter instead). Elevate the laminate: Slide a dowel or thin wooden stick between the laminate and base to elevate the laminate.Scrape old cement: Use a putty knife to scrape off old, brittle cement from the top of the MDF base and the bottom of the laminate. Vacuum away the remnants.Apply cement: Apply a thin layer of contact cement to the bottom of the laminate and to the top of the MDF base.Wait: Wait for 15 minutes (or as indicated by the contact cement instructions). Before sticking them together, each side must feel tacky to the touch.Remove the support: Remove the dowel or wooden stick, letting the laminate contact the base.Add pressure: Lay a heavy weight, such as a stack of books, on the repaired section. Let it rest for about 30 minutes before removing. Important Contact cement works differently from other types of glue. You must apply the cement to both sides and keep them apart for 15 minutes before attaching them. Broken Edges Laminate countertop edges are prone to peeling away or breaking off because they are so thin and are exposed to impact.  Broken or peeled laminate countertop sections can often be glued back into place with heat. A clothes iron or a heat gun reactivates the old glue, softening it and making it sticky again.  Assess the glue: Make sure that there is still glue on the back of the laminate or on the base. If there is no glue, use the peeling surfaces repair method (using contact cement).Heat the iron: Heat the iron to HIGH. The iron should be set to DRY, with no steam.Replace the laminate: Put the broken piece of laminate edge back in place. Apply painter's tape to temporarily hold it.Place the cloth: Lay thick fabric, such as a hand towel, against the laminate.Iron the laminate: Slide the iron back and forth across the laminate edge for about 20 seconds. Make sure to keep the cloth between the iron and the laminate edge.Let it cool: Wait two or three minutes for the glue to cool down and gain strength.Remove the tape: Remove the painter's tape. Lightly pull up an edge of the patch to ensure the laminate is firmly in place. Missing Edges Laminate countertop edges that have broken off and are missing can be repaired by using good laminate donated from other parts of the countertop.  It can be difficult to find new matching laminate to use as a repair material. So, you'll find a better color match by cutting laminate from hidden areas of the countertop. Find donor sections: Locate sections of good donor laminate edging. You'll find these by pulling out ranges, refrigerators, or dishwashers and looking on the sides of the countertop.Measure donor laminate: Measure out a section of donor laminate edge equal to the length of the missing edge.Score donor laminate: Score several lines down the laminate edge with a utility knife. The score should be reasonably deep, but cutting all the way through is unnecessary.Heat donor laminate: Place a hand towel over the donor section of the laminate. Place a HIGH dry (not steam) clothes iron over the donor section for about 20 seconds.Remove donor laminate: With a putty knife or utility knife, peel off the donor section of laminate quickly before the softened glue hardens.Repair the missing edge: Place the section of donor laminate over the missing area. Place a towel over the donor laminate patch and hold an iron on HIGH on the towel for 20 seconds.Check the patch: After the patch has cooled for two or three minutes, check it to ensure that it is firmly stuck in place. Light Scratches Laminate countertops may develop light scratches from knife cuts or from heavy, rough materials being slid across them. Unlike other countertop materials like solid surface or wood, laminate counters cannot be sanded down smooth.  To repair a lightly scratched laminate countertop, apply paste wax-based furniture polish and rub the wax smooth with a microfiber cloth. The shiny coat effectively disguises the scratches and will hold up to light use for a week or two before recoating is needed. Clean the countertop: Clean the countertop with warm water and mild soap. Rinse with clean water.Add polish: Rub paste furniture polish over the scratched laminate countertop. Coat the entire countertop, not just the scratched portion.Polish: Polish the wax vigorously by hand, using a microfiber cloth.  Repeat: Repeat with two or three coats. This will disguise most scratches. You Might Need... You must use a microfiber cloth, not a cotton towel, since its synthetic fibers encourage the wax to develop a glossier sheen. We tested several types for durability, longevity, and cost to bring you the best microfiber cloths. Cracks Cracks and deep scratches in laminate countertops cannot be disguised with wax polish. However, they can be spot-repaired with hard wax putty sticks. Wax sticks look like crayons and can be purchased individually in colors that match solid-color laminate countertops. For variegated color or stone-look laminate, purchase a kit of several colors to better blend the patch to the counter's texture. Heat the stick: Heat the end of the wax stick with a heat gun or hair dryer for about 10 to 15 seconds. Do not overheat; you only want to soften the end of the stick lightly.Apply the wax: Spread the softened end of the wax stick into the crack or scratch. You should end up with a slight bulge of wax.Spread the wax: With the flat side of a putty knife, smooth the wax flush to match the level of the surrounding laminate surface. If the wax doesn't smooth down well, reapply heat for a few seconds. Gouges Repair gouges, dents, and deep scratches in laminate countertop by filling the void with a synthetic color-matched filler. Preferably, use a laminate-specific filler. Alternatively, you can use wood putty to fill the laminate void. Since wood putty is light-brown, you will need to apply a hard wax putty stick on top to match the countertop's color. Sand edges: Deep gouges in laminate often have ragged edges, so sand them down with a light pass with 220-grit sandpaper.Clean with solvent: Clean the gouge and the surrounding few inches with laminate countertop solvent. If using SeamFil, use Kampel's SF-99 SeamFil Solvent.Apply filler: Press the filler deeply into the gouge with the flat side of the putty knife.Smooth filler: Smooth the filler flush with the surrounding laminate, using the putty knife. Source link

[cyanocoraxx]

your centipedes are so cool, ive been wondering about how to start! do you have any resources/tips?

of course! bear with me here because there's a lot to go through

if you're going all out and want to get it perfect, you need: a plastic tub with a locking lid (ideally), a drill for making ventilation holes, tongs for feeding/maintenance, a water bowl, peat or topsoil, sand, gravel, and some bark for hides and decoration.

-- SPECIES --

"beginner" species: scolopendra polymorpha (#1 recommendation), scolopendra cingulata, scolopendra morsitans & ethmostigmus trigonpododus. these guys are relatively inexpensive, usually pretty docile, easy to care for, easy to find & have milder venom than the larger species! however, you can obviously keep any species you want and it's your choice. just do plenty of research first. as cute as they are, many of the other species are extremely venomous and lightning-fast and deserve respect. it won't help either of you if you buy a pede that terrifies you to care for. ):

⚠︎ venom ⚠︎: several scolopendra species are extremely venomous, including subspinipes, sp. malaysian tiger, and dehaani. and you do decide to go for one of the spicier land dragons you need to fully understand the responsibility it entails. an escaped centipede can harm not just you, but your other pets and family members. you need to be sure you can handle the risk not just to yourself but others. please thoroughly research bite reports of the species you're looking for before buying so you know what you're getting in to. <3 also invest in some tongs for general maintenance. don't go putting your hands in willy nilly or you get the bitey witey ....

-- SETUP --

enclosure: expect a true escape artist. centipedes cannot climb smooth surfaces like glass or plastic but they CAN push themselves up against the surface to their fully stretched body length and if they can reach the lid it's game over. they can also grip on to ventilation holes and push off of enclosure decor. you would need a plastic enclosure that is taller than your pede and substrate combined. i currently use these tubs for my larger pedes as they have locking lids with very small gaps around the edges.

above are my setups for astraeus and choso! they have ventilation around all sides. i also have velcro straps securing the lids as double protection just because I got paranoid when I first put them in their new enclosures, but now I keep them on anyway because I feel better that way sbdhnfjm

ventilation: cross-ventilation is ESSENTIAL. there's a lot of misinfo online about this. a centipede needs ample ventilation at the bottom of their enclosure on all sides to prevent stagnant air and gas buildup so you would need to drill a few rows of ventilation holes. also make sure they're not big enough for a smaller pede to squeeze out of, because they can and will if they can fit!

⚠︎ MYCOSIS ⚠︎ is a thing. it's essentially a fungal infection that centipedes can get in damp, stagnant conditions, and it starts out as black spots typically on the legs and antennae. keeping a pede too wet with little or no ventilation just spells out disaster. don't be tempted to over-spray a pede's enclosure. if a pede does get mycosis, it can molt of out it if its enclosure is allowed to dry out more.

HOWEVER! the more ventilation you add and the less you spray, the higher the risk of desiccation (drying out). this is where it gets a little tricky. there needs to be a balance between the setup being too wet and too dry. best way to combat this is to keep one side damp and the other dry whilst providing a water dish. this way the pede can choose if it wants to be damp or dry.

above is astraeus modelling the substrate in their enclosure. they have a mix of sedge peat, desert sand, and gravel. they're leaned up against their fav piece of cork bark here too, where they spend the entire day before coming out at night.

substrate: this depends on the species you pick, but most pedes do well on a mixture of peat/topsoil and sand. mix gravel in as well as they like to move it around. the internet says to use coco fiber. DON'T!!!! pedes ingest some substrate when they eat their food and the fibers from coco coir will cause impaction and death.

-- DIET --

food: live prey includes gut-loaded crickets, locusts, superworms, and roaches. centipedes reach their maximum sizes most often when fed a varied diet. you can include raw meats (no fat!), shrimp, low-copper cat food and even fruits from time to time. most pedes aren't too picky and will eat whatever they can get their forcipules in to :P akaza above eating a prawn for tax/proof!

centipedes are opportunistic. they can eat large prey items and then go a long time without eating. every week is fine for an adult.

be sure to remove uneaten food to prevent the build up of gases and bacteria. springtails in the enclosure can help to minimize waste that is missed.

i think that covers it. maybe. i hope ASDFG

TOO LONG DIDN'T READ VERSION:

mix of peat/topsoil and sand

no coco fiber.

one side damp one side dry

water dish

wood for hides/decoration

tongs for feeding/maintenance

varied diet

cross-ventilation

most importantly, have fun. <3

(p.s. big thank you to the people of the chipotle centipede server for all their help and info as well, without them I wouldn't know half of this.)

[alexha2210]

Economical and easy to install, laminate countertops help homeowners reduce the high cost of installing bath or kitchen countertops. However, one downside is that they are easily damaged. Laminate countertop material can be dented, cracked, or scratched. It's also common for parts of the laminate to peel up from its fiberboard base, leaving other parts attached. Fortunately, laminate countertops can be repaired with some innovative tricks and tools. Learn laminate countertop repair for anything from stains and light scratches to deep gouges and cracks. Stains Like other countertops, laminate can stain. Some stains (hair dyes, tars, tannic acids, etc.) are permanent and cannot be removed. Other stains (food, coffee, tea, lemon juice, inks, or water marks) can be removed with household cleaning products. Use mild household cleaners, such as Fantastik All Purpose Cleaner, Formula 409, or Pine-Sol. Do not use abrasives. Apply product: Spray the mild cleaning product on the stain.Let it sit: Let the product sit on the laminate for 10 to 15 minutes to draw out the stain.Blot: Blot away the stained cleaning product with a clean, damp (not dry) non-abrasive cotton cloth.Rinse: Rinse with clean water, using a different cotton cloth.Repeat: Clean two or three more times until the stain is removed.Try with alcohol: If repeating doesn't work, try cleaning with denatured alcohol and a clean cotton cloth. Warning Denatured alcohol is safe for most laminates. However, be sure to check with your countertop manufacturer's instructions first. Do not use alcohol or any other solvent if the countertop has been painted. Want more home reno project tips and inspiration? Sign up for our free daily newsletter for the latest how-tos, reno guides, and more! Peeling Laminate countertop may peel or delaminate in large sections after water damage or simply due to age, as the laminate glue loses its strength.  Large sections of peeling laminate countertop can be glued back into place as long as the MDF base is still in good condition. Contact cement is the adhesive that was originally used to glue the laminate to its base, so repairing the countertop is just a matter of using contact cement again. Assess the base: Run your hand under the peeled section of the laminate to make sure that the MDF is in good condition. If the MDF is swollen and bumpy due to water damage, you won't be able to reapply the laminate (replace the counter instead). Elevate the laminate: Slide a dowel or thin wooden stick between the laminate and base to elevate the laminate.Scrape old cement: Use a putty knife to scrape off old, brittle cement from the top of the MDF base and the bottom of the laminate. Vacuum away the remnants.Apply cement: Apply a thin layer of contact cement to the bottom of the laminate and to the top of the MDF base.Wait: Wait for 15 minutes (or as indicated by the contact cement instructions). Before sticking them together, each side must feel tacky to the touch.Remove the support: Remove the dowel or wooden stick, letting the laminate contact the base.Add pressure: Lay a heavy weight, such as a stack of books, on the repaired section. Let it rest for about 30 minutes before removing. Important Contact cement works differently from other types of glue. You must apply the cement to both sides and keep them apart for 15 minutes before attaching them. Broken Edges Laminate countertop edges are prone to peeling away or breaking off because they are so thin and are exposed to impact.  Broken or peeled laminate countertop sections can often be glued back into place with heat. A clothes iron or a heat gun reactivates the old glue, softening it and making it sticky again.  Assess the glue: Make sure that there is still glue on the back of the laminate or on the base. If there is no glue, use the peeling surfaces repair method (using contact cement).Heat the iron: Heat the iron to HIGH. The iron should be set to DRY, with no steam.Replace the laminate: Put the broken piece of laminate edge back in place. Apply painter's tape to temporarily hold it.Place the cloth: Lay thick fabric, such as a hand towel, against the laminate.Iron the laminate: Slide the iron back and forth across the laminate edge for about 20 seconds. Make sure to keep the cloth between the iron and the laminate edge.Let it cool: Wait two or three minutes for the glue to cool down and gain strength.Remove the tape: Remove the painter's tape. Lightly pull up an edge of the patch to ensure the laminate is firmly in place. Missing Edges Laminate countertop edges that have broken off and are missing can be repaired by using good laminate donated from other parts of the countertop.  It can be difficult to find new matching laminate to use as a repair material. So, you'll find a better color match by cutting laminate from hidden areas of the countertop. Find donor sections: Locate sections of good donor laminate edging. You'll find these by pulling out ranges, refrigerators, or dishwashers and looking on the sides of the countertop.Measure donor laminate: Measure out a section of donor laminate edge equal to the length of the missing edge.Score donor laminate: Score several lines down the laminate edge with a utility knife. The score should be reasonably deep, but cutting all the way through is unnecessary.Heat donor laminate: Place a hand towel over the donor section of the laminate. Place a HIGH dry (not steam) clothes iron over the donor section for about 20 seconds.Remove donor laminate: With a putty knife or utility knife, peel off the donor section of laminate quickly before the softened glue hardens.Repair the missing edge: Place the section of donor laminate over the missing area. Place a towel over the donor laminate patch and hold an iron on HIGH on the towel for 20 seconds.Check the patch: After the patch has cooled for two or three minutes, check it to ensure that it is firmly stuck in place. Light Scratches Laminate countertops may develop light scratches from knife cuts or from heavy, rough materials being slid across them. Unlike other countertop materials like solid surface or wood, laminate counters cannot be sanded down smooth.  To repair a lightly scratched laminate countertop, apply paste wax-based furniture polish and rub the wax smooth with a microfiber cloth. The shiny coat effectively disguises the scratches and will hold up to light use for a week or two before recoating is needed. Clean the countertop: Clean the countertop with warm water and mild soap. Rinse with clean water.Add polish: Rub paste furniture polish over the scratched laminate countertop. Coat the entire countertop, not just the scratched portion.Polish: Polish the wax vigorously by hand, using a microfiber cloth.  Repeat: Repeat with two or three coats. This will disguise most scratches. You Might Need... You must use a microfiber cloth, not a cotton towel, since its synthetic fibers encourage the wax to develop a glossier sheen. We tested several types for durability, longevity, and cost to bring you the best microfiber cloths. Cracks Cracks and deep scratches in laminate countertops cannot be disguised with wax polish. However, they can be spot-repaired with hard wax putty sticks. Wax sticks look like crayons and can be purchased individually in colors that match solid-color laminate countertops. For variegated color or stone-look laminate, purchase a kit of several colors to better blend the patch to the counter's texture. Heat the stick: Heat the end of the wax stick with a heat gun or hair dryer for about 10 to 15 seconds. Do not overheat; you only want to soften the end of the stick lightly.Apply the wax: Spread the softened end of the wax stick into the crack or scratch. You should end up with a slight bulge of wax.Spread the wax: With the flat side of a putty knife, smooth the wax flush to match the level of the surrounding laminate surface. If the wax doesn't smooth down well, reapply heat for a few seconds. Gouges Repair gouges, dents, and deep scratches in laminate countertop by filling the void with a synthetic color-matched filler. Preferably, use a laminate-specific filler. Alternatively, you can use wood putty to fill the laminate void. Since wood putty is light-brown, you will need to apply a hard wax putty stick on top to match the countertop's color. Sand edges: Deep gouges in laminate often have ragged edges, so sand them down with a light pass with 220-grit sandpaper.Clean with solvent: Clean the gouge and the surrounding few inches with laminate countertop solvent. If using SeamFil, use Kampel's SF-99 SeamFil Solvent.Apply filler: Press the filler deeply into the gouge with the flat side of the putty knife.Smooth filler: Smooth the filler flush with the surrounding laminate, using the putty knife. Source link

[angusstory]

Economical and easy to install, laminate countertops help homeowners reduce the high cost of installing bath or kitchen countertops. However, one downside is that they are easily damaged. Laminate countertop material can be dented, cracked, or scratched. It's also common for parts of the laminate to peel up from its fiberboard base, leaving other parts attached. Fortunately, laminate countertops can be repaired with some innovative tricks and tools. Learn laminate countertop repair for anything from stains and light scratches to deep gouges and cracks. Stains Like other countertops, laminate can stain. Some stains (hair dyes, tars, tannic acids, etc.) are permanent and cannot be removed. Other stains (food, coffee, tea, lemon juice, inks, or water marks) can be removed with household cleaning products. Use mild household cleaners, such as Fantastik All Purpose Cleaner, Formula 409, or Pine-Sol. Do not use abrasives. Apply product: Spray the mild cleaning product on the stain.Let it sit: Let the product sit on the laminate for 10 to 15 minutes to draw out the stain.Blot: Blot away the stained cleaning product with a clean, damp (not dry) non-abrasive cotton cloth.Rinse: Rinse with clean water, using a different cotton cloth.Repeat: Clean two or three more times until the stain is removed.Try with alcohol: If repeating doesn't work, try cleaning with denatured alcohol and a clean cotton cloth. Warning Denatured alcohol is safe for most laminates. However, be sure to check with your countertop manufacturer's instructions first. Do not use alcohol or any other solvent if the countertop has been painted. Want more home reno project tips and inspiration? Sign up for our free daily newsletter for the latest how-tos, reno guides, and more! Peeling Laminate countertop may peel or delaminate in large sections after water damage or simply due to age, as the laminate glue loses its strength.  Large sections of peeling laminate countertop can be glued back into place as long as the MDF base is still in good condition. Contact cement is the adhesive that was originally used to glue the laminate to its base, so repairing the countertop is just a matter of using contact cement again. Assess the base: Run your hand under the peeled section of the laminate to make sure that the MDF is in good condition. If the MDF is swollen and bumpy due to water damage, you won't be able to reapply the laminate (replace the counter instead). Elevate the laminate: Slide a dowel or thin wooden stick between the laminate and base to elevate the laminate.Scrape old cement: Use a putty knife to scrape off old, brittle cement from the top of the MDF base and the bottom of the laminate. Vacuum away the remnants.Apply cement: Apply a thin layer of contact cement to the bottom of the laminate and to the top of the MDF base.Wait: Wait for 15 minutes (or as indicated by the contact cement instructions). Before sticking them together, each side must feel tacky to the touch.Remove the support: Remove the dowel or wooden stick, letting the laminate contact the base.Add pressure: Lay a heavy weight, such as a stack of books, on the repaired section. Let it rest for about 30 minutes before removing. Important Contact cement works differently from other types of glue. You must apply the cement to both sides and keep them apart for 15 minutes before attaching them. Broken Edges Laminate countertop edges are prone to peeling away or breaking off because they are so thin and are exposed to impact.  Broken or peeled laminate countertop sections can often be glued back into place with heat. A clothes iron or a heat gun reactivates the old glue, softening it and making it sticky again.  Assess the glue: Make sure that there is still glue on the back of the laminate or on the base. If there is no glue, use the peeling surfaces repair method (using contact cement).Heat the iron: Heat the iron to HIGH. The iron should be set to DRY, with no steam.Replace the laminate: Put the broken piece of laminate edge back in place. Apply painter's tape to temporarily hold it.Place the cloth: Lay thick fabric, such as a hand towel, against the laminate.Iron the laminate: Slide the iron back and forth across the laminate edge for about 20 seconds. Make sure to keep the cloth between the iron and the laminate edge.Let it cool: Wait two or three minutes for the glue to cool down and gain strength.Remove the tape: Remove the painter's tape. Lightly pull up an edge of the patch to ensure the laminate is firmly in place. Missing Edges Laminate countertop edges that have broken off and are missing can be repaired by using good laminate donated from other parts of the countertop.  It can be difficult to find new matching laminate to use as a repair material. So, you'll find a better color match by cutting laminate from hidden areas of the countertop. Find donor sections: Locate sections of good donor laminate edging. You'll find these by pulling out ranges, refrigerators, or dishwashers and looking on the sides of the countertop.Measure donor laminate: Measure out a section of donor laminate edge equal to the length of the missing edge.Score donor laminate: Score several lines down the laminate edge with a utility knife. The score should be reasonably deep, but cutting all the way through is unnecessary.Heat donor laminate: Place a hand towel over the donor section of the laminate. Place a HIGH dry (not steam) clothes iron over the donor section for about 20 seconds.Remove donor laminate: With a putty knife or utility knife, peel off the donor section of laminate quickly before the softened glue hardens.Repair the missing edge: Place the section of donor laminate over the missing area. Place a towel over the donor laminate patch and hold an iron on HIGH on the towel for 20 seconds.Check the patch: After the patch has cooled for two or three minutes, check it to ensure that it is firmly stuck in place. Light Scratches Laminate countertops may develop light scratches from knife cuts or from heavy, rough materials being slid across them. Unlike other countertop materials like solid surface or wood, laminate counters cannot be sanded down smooth.  To repair a lightly scratched laminate countertop, apply paste wax-based furniture polish and rub the wax smooth with a microfiber cloth. The shiny coat effectively disguises the scratches and will hold up to light use for a week or two before recoating is needed. Clean the countertop: Clean the countertop with warm water and mild soap. Rinse with clean water.Add polish: Rub paste furniture polish over the scratched laminate countertop. Coat the entire countertop, not just the scratched portion.Polish: Polish the wax vigorously by hand, using a microfiber cloth.  Repeat: Repeat with two or three coats. This will disguise most scratches. You Might Need... You must use a microfiber cloth, not a cotton towel, since its synthetic fibers encourage the wax to develop a glossier sheen. We tested several types for durability, longevity, and cost to bring you the best microfiber cloths. Cracks Cracks and deep scratches in laminate countertops cannot be disguised with wax polish. However, they can be spot-repaired with hard wax putty sticks. Wax sticks look like crayons and can be purchased individually in colors that match solid-color laminate countertops. For variegated color or stone-look laminate, purchase a kit of several colors to better blend the patch to the counter's texture. Heat the stick: Heat the end of the wax stick with a heat gun or hair dryer for about 10 to 15 seconds. Do not overheat; you only want to soften the end of the stick lightly.Apply the wax: Spread the softened end of the wax stick into the crack or scratch. You should end up with a slight bulge of wax.Spread the wax: With the flat side of a putty knife, smooth the wax flush to match the level of the surrounding laminate surface. If the wax doesn't smooth down well, reapply heat for a few seconds. Gouges Repair gouges, dents, and deep scratches in laminate countertop by filling the void with a synthetic color-matched filler. Preferably, use a laminate-specific filler. Alternatively, you can use wood putty to fill the laminate void. Since wood putty is light-brown, you will need to apply a hard wax putty stick on top to match the countertop's color. Sand edges: Deep gouges in laminate often have ragged edges, so sand them down with a light pass with 220-grit sandpaper.Clean with solvent: Clean the gouge and the surrounding few inches with laminate countertop solvent. If using SeamFil, use Kampel's SF-99 SeamFil Solvent.Apply filler: Press the filler deeply into the gouge with the flat side of the putty knife.Smooth filler: Smooth the filler flush with the surrounding laminate, using the putty knife. Source link

[tumibaba]

Economical and easy to install, laminate countertops help homeowners reduce the high cost of installing bath or kitchen countertops. However, one downside is that they are easily damaged. Laminate countertop material can be dented, cracked, or scratched. It's also common for parts of the laminate to peel up from its fiberboard base, leaving other parts attached. Fortunately, laminate countertops can be repaired with some innovative tricks and tools. Learn laminate countertop repair for anything from stains and light scratches to deep gouges and cracks. Stains Like other countertops, laminate can stain. Some stains (hair dyes, tars, tannic acids, etc.) are permanent and cannot be removed. Other stains (food, coffee, tea, lemon juice, inks, or water marks) can be removed with household cleaning products. Use mild household cleaners, such as Fantastik All Purpose Cleaner, Formula 409, or Pine-Sol. Do not use abrasives. Apply product: Spray the mild cleaning product on the stain.Let it sit: Let the product sit on the laminate for 10 to 15 minutes to draw out the stain.Blot: Blot away the stained cleaning product with a clean, damp (not dry) non-abrasive cotton cloth.Rinse: Rinse with clean water, using a different cotton cloth.Repeat: Clean two or three more times until the stain is removed.Try with alcohol: If repeating doesn't work, try cleaning with denatured alcohol and a clean cotton cloth. Warning Denatured alcohol is safe for most laminates. However, be sure to check with your countertop manufacturer's instructions first. Do not use alcohol or any other solvent if the countertop has been painted. Want more home reno project tips and inspiration? Sign up for our free daily newsletter for the latest how-tos, reno guides, and more! Peeling Laminate countertop may peel or delaminate in large sections after water damage or simply due to age, as the laminate glue loses its strength.  Large sections of peeling laminate countertop can be glued back into place as long as the MDF base is still in good condition. Contact cement is the adhesive that was originally used to glue the laminate to its base, so repairing the countertop is just a matter of using contact cement again. Assess the base: Run your hand under the peeled section of the laminate to make sure that the MDF is in good condition. If the MDF is swollen and bumpy due to water damage, you won't be able to reapply the laminate (replace the counter instead). Elevate the laminate: Slide a dowel or thin wooden stick between the laminate and base to elevate the laminate.Scrape old cement: Use a putty knife to scrape off old, brittle cement from the top of the MDF base and the bottom of the laminate. Vacuum away the remnants.Apply cement: Apply a thin layer of contact cement to the bottom of the laminate and to the top of the MDF base.Wait: Wait for 15 minutes (or as indicated by the contact cement instructions). Before sticking them together, each side must feel tacky to the touch.Remove the support: Remove the dowel or wooden stick, letting the laminate contact the base.Add pressure: Lay a heavy weight, such as a stack of books, on the repaired section. Let it rest for about 30 minutes before removing. Important Contact cement works differently from other types of glue. You must apply the cement to both sides and keep them apart for 15 minutes before attaching them. Broken Edges Laminate countertop edges are prone to peeling away or breaking off because they are so thin and are exposed to impact.  Broken or peeled laminate countertop sections can often be glued back into place with heat. A clothes iron or a heat gun reactivates the old glue, softening it and making it sticky again.  Assess the glue: Make sure that there is still glue on the back of the laminate or on the base. If there is no glue, use the peeling surfaces repair method (using contact cement).Heat the iron: Heat the iron to HIGH. The iron should be set to DRY, with no steam.Replace the laminate: Put the broken piece of laminate edge back in place. Apply painter's tape to temporarily hold it.Place the cloth: Lay thick fabric, such as a hand towel, against the laminate.Iron the laminate: Slide the iron back and forth across the laminate edge for about 20 seconds. Make sure to keep the cloth between the iron and the laminate edge.Let it cool: Wait two or three minutes for the glue to cool down and gain strength.Remove the tape: Remove the painter's tape. Lightly pull up an edge of the patch to ensure the laminate is firmly in place. Missing Edges Laminate countertop edges that have broken off and are missing can be repaired by using good laminate donated from other parts of the countertop.  It can be difficult to find new matching laminate to use as a repair material. So, you'll find a better color match by cutting laminate from hidden areas of the countertop. Find donor sections: Locate sections of good donor laminate edging. You'll find these by pulling out ranges, refrigerators, or dishwashers and looking on the sides of the countertop.Measure donor laminate: Measure out a section of donor laminate edge equal to the length of the missing edge.Score donor laminate: Score several lines down the laminate edge with a utility knife. The score should be reasonably deep, but cutting all the way through is unnecessary.Heat donor laminate: Place a hand towel over the donor section of the laminate. Place a HIGH dry (not steam) clothes iron over the donor section for about 20 seconds.Remove donor laminate: With a putty knife or utility knife, peel off the donor section of laminate quickly before the softened glue hardens.Repair the missing edge: Place the section of donor laminate over the missing area. Place a towel over the donor laminate patch and hold an iron on HIGH on the towel for 20 seconds.Check the patch: After the patch has cooled for two or three minutes, check it to ensure that it is firmly stuck in place. Light Scratches Laminate countertops may develop light scratches from knife cuts or from heavy, rough materials being slid across them. Unlike other countertop materials like solid surface or wood, laminate counters cannot be sanded down smooth.  To repair a lightly scratched laminate countertop, apply paste wax-based furniture polish and rub the wax smooth with a microfiber cloth. The shiny coat effectively disguises the scratches and will hold up to light use for a week or two before recoating is needed. Clean the countertop: Clean the countertop with warm water and mild soap. Rinse with clean water.Add polish: Rub paste furniture polish over the scratched laminate countertop. Coat the entire countertop, not just the scratched portion.Polish: Polish the wax vigorously by hand, using a microfiber cloth.  Repeat: Repeat with two or three coats. This will disguise most scratches. You Might Need... You must use a microfiber cloth, not a cotton towel, since its synthetic fibers encourage the wax to develop a glossier sheen. We tested several types for durability, longevity, and cost to bring you the best microfiber cloths. Cracks Cracks and deep scratches in laminate countertops cannot be disguised with wax polish. However, they can be spot-repaired with hard wax putty sticks. Wax sticks look like crayons and can be purchased individually in colors that match solid-color laminate countertops. For variegated color or stone-look laminate, purchase a kit of several colors to better blend the patch to the counter's texture. Heat the stick: Heat the end of the wax stick with a heat gun or hair dryer for about 10 to 15 seconds. Do not overheat; you only want to soften the end of the stick lightly.Apply the wax: Spread the softened end of the wax stick into the crack or scratch. You should end up with a slight bulge of wax.Spread the wax: With the flat side of a putty knife, smooth the wax flush to match the level of the surrounding laminate surface. If the wax doesn't smooth down well, reapply heat for a few seconds. Gouges Repair gouges, dents, and deep scratches in laminate countertop by filling the void with a synthetic color-matched filler. Preferably, use a laminate-specific filler. Alternatively, you can use wood putty to fill the laminate void. Since wood putty is light-brown, you will need to apply a hard wax putty stick on top to match the countertop's color. Sand edges: Deep gouges in laminate often have ragged edges, so sand them down with a light pass with 220-grit sandpaper.Clean with solvent: Clean the gouge and the surrounding few inches with laminate countertop solvent. If using SeamFil, use Kampel's SF-99 SeamFil Solvent.Apply filler: Press the filler deeply into the gouge with the flat side of the putty knife.Smooth filler: Smooth the filler flush with the surrounding laminate, using the putty knife. Source link

[romaleen]

Economical and easy to install, laminate countertops help homeowners reduce the high cost of installing bath or kitchen countertops. However, one downside is that they are easily damaged. Laminate countertop material can be dented, cracked, or scratched. It's also common for parts of the laminate to peel up from its fiberboard base, leaving other parts attached. Fortunately, laminate countertops can be repaired with some innovative tricks and tools. Learn laminate countertop repair for anything from stains and light scratches to deep gouges and cracks. Stains Like other countertops, laminate can stain. Some stains (hair dyes, tars, tannic acids, etc.) are permanent and cannot be removed. Other stains (food, coffee, tea, lemon juice, inks, or water marks) can be removed with household cleaning products. Use mild household cleaners, such as Fantastik All Purpose Cleaner, Formula 409, or Pine-Sol. Do not use abrasives. Apply product: Spray the mild cleaning product on the stain.Let it sit: Let the product sit on the laminate for 10 to 15 minutes to draw out the stain.Blot: Blot away the stained cleaning product with a clean, damp (not dry) non-abrasive cotton cloth.Rinse: Rinse with clean water, using a different cotton cloth.Repeat: Clean two or three more times until the stain is removed.Try with alcohol: If repeating doesn't work, try cleaning with denatured alcohol and a clean cotton cloth. Warning Denatured alcohol is safe for most laminates. However, be sure to check with your countertop manufacturer's instructions first. Do not use alcohol or any other solvent if the countertop has been painted. Want more home reno project tips and inspiration? Sign up for our free daily newsletter for the latest how-tos, reno guides, and more! Peeling Laminate countertop may peel or delaminate in large sections after water damage or simply due to age, as the laminate glue loses its strength.  Large sections of peeling laminate countertop can be glued back into place as long as the MDF base is still in good condition. Contact cement is the adhesive that was originally used to glue the laminate to its base, so repairing the countertop is just a matter of using contact cement again. Assess the base: Run your hand under the peeled section of the laminate to make sure that the MDF is in good condition. If the MDF is swollen and bumpy due to water damage, you won't be able to reapply the laminate (replace the counter instead). Elevate the laminate: Slide a dowel or thin wooden stick between the laminate and base to elevate the laminate.Scrape old cement: Use a putty knife to scrape off old, brittle cement from the top of the MDF base and the bottom of the laminate. Vacuum away the remnants.Apply cement: Apply a thin layer of contact cement to the bottom of the laminate and to the top of the MDF base.Wait: Wait for 15 minutes (or as indicated by the contact cement instructions). Before sticking them together, each side must feel tacky to the touch.Remove the support: Remove the dowel or wooden stick, letting the laminate contact the base.Add pressure: Lay a heavy weight, such as a stack of books, on the repaired section. Let it rest for about 30 minutes before removing. Important Contact cement works differently from other types of glue. You must apply the cement to both sides and keep them apart for 15 minutes before attaching them. Broken Edges Laminate countertop edges are prone to peeling away or breaking off because they are so thin and are exposed to impact.  Broken or peeled laminate countertop sections can often be glued back into place with heat. A clothes iron or a heat gun reactivates the old glue, softening it and making it sticky again.  Assess the glue: Make sure that there is still glue on the back of the laminate or on the base. If there is no glue, use the peeling surfaces repair method (using contact cement).Heat the iron: Heat the iron to HIGH. The iron should be set to DRY, with no steam.Replace the laminate: Put the broken piece of laminate edge back in place. Apply painter's tape to temporarily hold it.Place the cloth: Lay thick fabric, such as a hand towel, against the laminate.Iron the laminate: Slide the iron back and forth across the laminate edge for about 20 seconds. Make sure to keep the cloth between the iron and the laminate edge.Let it cool: Wait two or three minutes for the glue to cool down and gain strength.Remove the tape: Remove the painter's tape. Lightly pull up an edge of the patch to ensure the laminate is firmly in place. Missing Edges Laminate countertop edges that have broken off and are missing can be repaired by using good laminate donated from other parts of the countertop.  It can be difficult to find new matching laminate to use as a repair material. So, you'll find a better color match by cutting laminate from hidden areas of the countertop. Find donor sections: Locate sections of good donor laminate edging. You'll find these by pulling out ranges, refrigerators, or dishwashers and looking on the sides of the countertop.Measure donor laminate: Measure out a section of donor laminate edge equal to the length of the missing edge.Score donor laminate: Score several lines down the laminate edge with a utility knife. The score should be reasonably deep, but cutting all the way through is unnecessary.Heat donor laminate: Place a hand towel over the donor section of the laminate. Place a HIGH dry (not steam) clothes iron over the donor section for about 20 seconds.Remove donor laminate: With a putty knife or utility knife, peel off the donor section of laminate quickly before the softened glue hardens.Repair the missing edge: Place the section of donor laminate over the missing area. Place a towel over the donor laminate patch and hold an iron on HIGH on the towel for 20 seconds.Check the patch: After the patch has cooled for two or three minutes, check it to ensure that it is firmly stuck in place. Light Scratches Laminate countertops may develop light scratches from knife cuts or from heavy, rough materials being slid across them. Unlike other countertop materials like solid surface or wood, laminate counters cannot be sanded down smooth.  To repair a lightly scratched laminate countertop, apply paste wax-based furniture polish and rub the wax smooth with a microfiber cloth. The shiny coat effectively disguises the scratches and will hold up to light use for a week or two before recoating is needed. Clean the countertop: Clean the countertop with warm water and mild soap. Rinse with clean water.Add polish: Rub paste furniture polish over the scratched laminate countertop. Coat the entire countertop, not just the scratched portion.Polish: Polish the wax vigorously by hand, using a microfiber cloth.  Repeat: Repeat with two or three coats. This will disguise most scratches. You Might Need... You must use a microfiber cloth, not a cotton towel, since its synthetic fibers encourage the wax to develop a glossier sheen. We tested several types for durability, longevity, and cost to bring you the best microfiber cloths. Cracks Cracks and deep scratches in laminate countertops cannot be disguised with wax polish. However, they can be spot-repaired with hard wax putty sticks. Wax sticks look like crayons and can be purchased individually in colors that match solid-color laminate countertops. For variegated color or stone-look laminate, purchase a kit of several colors to better blend the patch to the counter's texture. Heat the stick: Heat the end of the wax stick with a heat gun or hair dryer for about 10 to 15 seconds. Do not overheat; you only want to soften the end of the stick lightly.Apply the wax: Spread the softened end of the wax stick into the crack or scratch. You should end up with a slight bulge of wax.Spread the wax: With the flat side of a putty knife, smooth the wax flush to match the level of the surrounding laminate surface. If the wax doesn't smooth down well, reapply heat for a few seconds. Gouges Repair gouges, dents, and deep scratches in laminate countertop by filling the void with a synthetic color-matched filler. Preferably, use a laminate-specific filler. Alternatively, you can use wood putty to fill the laminate void. Since wood putty is light-brown, you will need to apply a hard wax putty stick on top to match the countertop's color. Sand edges: Deep gouges in laminate often have ragged edges, so sand them down with a light pass with 220-grit sandpaper.Clean with solvent: Clean the gouge and the surrounding few inches with laminate countertop solvent. If using SeamFil, use Kampel's SF-99 SeamFil Solvent.Apply filler: Press the filler deeply into the gouge with the flat side of the putty knife.Smooth filler: Smooth the filler flush with the surrounding laminate, using the putty knife. Source link

[monaleen101]

Economical and easy to install, laminate countertops help homeowners reduce the high cost of installing bath or kitchen countertops. However, one downside is that they are easily damaged. Laminate countertop material can be dented, cracked, or scratched. It's also common for parts of the laminate to peel up from its fiberboard base, leaving other parts attached. Fortunately, laminate countertops can be repaired with some innovative tricks and tools. Learn laminate countertop repair for anything from stains and light scratches to deep gouges and cracks. Stains Like other countertops, laminate can stain. Some stains (hair dyes, tars, tannic acids, etc.) are permanent and cannot be removed. Other stains (food, coffee, tea, lemon juice, inks, or water marks) can be removed with household cleaning products. Use mild household cleaners, such as Fantastik All Purpose Cleaner, Formula 409, or Pine-Sol. Do not use abrasives. Apply product: Spray the mild cleaning product on the stain.Let it sit: Let the product sit on the laminate for 10 to 15 minutes to draw out the stain.Blot: Blot away the stained cleaning product with a clean, damp (not dry) non-abrasive cotton cloth.Rinse: Rinse with clean water, using a different cotton cloth.Repeat: Clean two or three more times until the stain is removed.Try with alcohol: If repeating doesn't work, try cleaning with denatured alcohol and a clean cotton cloth. Warning Denatured alcohol is safe for most laminates. However, be sure to check with your countertop manufacturer's instructions first. Do not use alcohol or any other solvent if the countertop has been painted. Want more home reno project tips and inspiration? Sign up for our free daily newsletter for the latest how-tos, reno guides, and more! Peeling Laminate countertop may peel or delaminate in large sections after water damage or simply due to age, as the laminate glue loses its strength.  Large sections of peeling laminate countertop can be glued back into place as long as the MDF base is still in good condition. Contact cement is the adhesive that was originally used to glue the laminate to its base, so repairing the countertop is just a matter of using contact cement again. Assess the base: Run your hand under the peeled section of the laminate to make sure that the MDF is in good condition. If the MDF is swollen and bumpy due to water damage, you won't be able to reapply the laminate (replace the counter instead). Elevate the laminate: Slide a dowel or thin wooden stick between the laminate and base to elevate the laminate.Scrape old cement: Use a putty knife to scrape off old, brittle cement from the top of the MDF base and the bottom of the laminate. Vacuum away the remnants.Apply cement: Apply a thin layer of contact cement to the bottom of the laminate and to the top of the MDF base.Wait: Wait for 15 minutes (or as indicated by the contact cement instructions). Before sticking them together, each side must feel tacky to the touch.Remove the support: Remove the dowel or wooden stick, letting the laminate contact the base.Add pressure: Lay a heavy weight, such as a stack of books, on the repaired section. Let it rest for about 30 minutes before removing. Important Contact cement works differently from other types of glue. You must apply the cement to both sides and keep them apart for 15 minutes before attaching them. Broken Edges Laminate countertop edges are prone to peeling away or breaking off because they are so thin and are exposed to impact.  Broken or peeled laminate countertop sections can often be glued back into place with heat. A clothes iron or a heat gun reactivates the old glue, softening it and making it sticky again.  Assess the glue: Make sure that there is still glue on the back of the laminate or on the base. If there is no glue, use the peeling surfaces repair method (using contact cement).Heat the iron: Heat the iron to HIGH. The iron should be set to DRY, with no steam.Replace the laminate: Put the broken piece of laminate edge back in place. Apply painter's tape to temporarily hold it.Place the cloth: Lay thick fabric, such as a hand towel, against the laminate.Iron the laminate: Slide the iron back and forth across the laminate edge for about 20 seconds. Make sure to keep the cloth between the iron and the laminate edge.Let it cool: Wait two or three minutes for the glue to cool down and gain strength.Remove the tape: Remove the painter's tape. Lightly pull up an edge of the patch to ensure the laminate is firmly in place. Missing Edges Laminate countertop edges that have broken off and are missing can be repaired by using good laminate donated from other parts of the countertop.  It can be difficult to find new matching laminate to use as a repair material. So, you'll find a better color match by cutting laminate from hidden areas of the countertop. Find donor sections: Locate sections of good donor laminate edging. You'll find these by pulling out ranges, refrigerators, or dishwashers and looking on the sides of the countertop.Measure donor laminate: Measure out a section of donor laminate edge equal to the length of the missing edge.Score donor laminate: Score several lines down the laminate edge with a utility knife. The score should be reasonably deep, but cutting all the way through is unnecessary.Heat donor laminate: Place a hand towel over the donor section of the laminate. Place a HIGH dry (not steam) clothes iron over the donor section for about 20 seconds.Remove donor laminate: With a putty knife or utility knife, peel off the donor section of laminate quickly before the softened glue hardens.Repair the missing edge: Place the section of donor laminate over the missing area. Place a towel over the donor laminate patch and hold an iron on HIGH on the towel for 20 seconds.Check the patch: After the patch has cooled for two or three minutes, check it to ensure that it is firmly stuck in place. Light Scratches Laminate countertops may develop light scratches from knife cuts or from heavy, rough materials being slid across them. Unlike other countertop materials like solid surface or wood, laminate counters cannot be sanded down smooth.  To repair a lightly scratched laminate countertop, apply paste wax-based furniture polish and rub the wax smooth with a microfiber cloth. The shiny coat effectively disguises the scratches and will hold up to light use for a week or two before recoating is needed. Clean the countertop: Clean the countertop with warm water and mild soap. Rinse with clean water.Add polish: Rub paste furniture polish over the scratched laminate countertop. Coat the entire countertop, not just the scratched portion.Polish: Polish the wax vigorously by hand, using a microfiber cloth.  Repeat: Repeat with two or three coats. This will disguise most scratches. You Might Need... You must use a microfiber cloth, not a cotton towel, since its synthetic fibers encourage the wax to develop a glossier sheen. We tested several types for durability, longevity, and cost to bring you the best microfiber cloths. Cracks Cracks and deep scratches in laminate countertops cannot be disguised with wax polish. However, they can be spot-repaired with hard wax putty sticks. Wax sticks look like crayons and can be purchased individually in colors that match solid-color laminate countertops. For variegated color or stone-look laminate, purchase a kit of several colors to better blend the patch to the counter's texture. Heat the stick: Heat the end of the wax stick with a heat gun or hair dryer for about 10 to 15 seconds. Do not overheat; you only want to soften the end of the stick lightly.Apply the wax: Spread the softened end of the wax stick into the crack or scratch. You should end up with a slight bulge of wax.Spread the wax: With the flat side of a putty knife, smooth the wax flush to match the level of the surrounding laminate surface. If the wax doesn't smooth down well, reapply heat for a few seconds. Gouges Repair gouges, dents, and deep scratches in laminate countertop by filling the void with a synthetic color-matched filler. Preferably, use a laminate-specific filler. Alternatively, you can use wood putty to fill the laminate void. Since wood putty is light-brown, you will need to apply a hard wax putty stick on top to match the countertop's color. Sand edges: Deep gouges in laminate often have ragged edges, so sand them down with a light pass with 220-grit sandpaper.Clean with solvent: Clean the gouge and the surrounding few inches with laminate countertop solvent. If using SeamFil, use Kampel's SF-99 SeamFil Solvent.Apply filler: Press the filler deeply into the gouge with the flat side of the putty knife.Smooth filler: Smooth the filler flush with the surrounding laminate, using the putty knife. Source link