#Textiles and Fabrics Testing

[testing-services]

The Role of Fabric Testing in Sustainable Textile Manufacturing

In recent years, sustainability has emerged as a pivotal focus within the textile industry. With increasing awareness about environmental impact, consumers and manufacturers alike are prioritizing eco-friendly practices. Among these practices, textiles and fabrics testing plays a crucial role in advancing sustainable textile manufacturing. Fabric testing ensures that materials not only meet quality and safety standards but also align with environmental and ethical benchmarks.

This blog explores the role of fabric testing in sustainable textile manufacturing, how testing labs contribute to green practices, and why integrating testing is essential for the future of textiles.

Understanding Sustainable Textile Manufacturing

Sustainable textile manufacturing involves producing fabrics and garments with minimal negative impact on the environment and society. Key objectives include:

Reducing water, energy, and chemical usage during production

Minimizing waste and pollution

Using renewable, recycled, or biodegradable fibers

Ensuring fair labor and ethical sourcing practices

Creating durable products to extend lifecycle and reduce landfill waste

Sustainability is not just a trend but a responsibility driven by regulatory requirements, market demand, and global initiatives like the UN Sustainable Development Goals (SDGs).

How Fabric Testing Supports Sustainability

Fabric testing, traditionally associated with quality assurance, now plays a multifaceted role in fostering sustainability across the textile value chain:

1. Ensuring Material Compliance with Eco-Standards

Textile testing labs verify compliance with recognized environmental certifications such as:

OEKO-TEX Standard 100: Ensures textiles are free from harmful substances.

Global Organic Textile Standard (GOTS): Certifies organic fibers and sustainable processing.

Bluesign: Focuses on sustainable chemical usage and emissions.

By conducting chemical residue tests, harmful dye and finishing chemical detection, and heavy metal analysis, fabric testing ensures manufacturers meet stringent sustainability criteria. This protects consumers and the environment from toxic exposure.

2. Validating Use of Recycled and Alternative Fibers

Sustainable textiles often incorporate recycled polyester, organic cotton, hemp, or bamboo. Fabric testing assesses:

Fiber content verification to confirm material authenticity

Performance testing to ensure recycled fibers meet durability and comfort standards

Compatibility of blended fibers for optimal manufacturing outcomes

Testing ensures these alternative fibers deliver quality products, encouraging wider adoption of sustainable materials.

3. Optimizing Resource Efficiency

Water, energy, and chemical consumption are critical environmental metrics in textile manufacturing. Fabric testing labs assist by:

Analyzing fabric absorbency and dye uptake to optimize dyeing processes, reducing water and chemical waste

Assessing fabric weight and thickness to balance resource use without compromising quality

Testing fabric durability and colorfastness to ensure longer-lasting products, reducing the need for frequent replacement

This data enables manufacturers to refine production techniques for greater environmental efficiency.

4. Minimizing Waste Through Quality Control

Poor quality fabrics often result in high rejection rates, waste, and reprocessing — all detrimental to sustainability goals. Comprehensive textiles and fabrics testing include:

Tensile strength and tear resistance to prevent premature damage

Pilling and abrasion resistance to ensure aesthetic longevity

Dimensional stability testing to avoid deformation during use

By catching defects early, testing reduces material waste, conserves resources, and lowers carbon footprint.

5. Supporting Sustainable Finishing Techniques

Innovations in eco-friendly fabric finishes — such as waterless dyeing, natural antimicrobials, or biodegradable coatings — require validation. Testing labs evaluate:

Chemical residues and toxicity of new finishing agents

Durability and effectiveness of sustainable finishes

Biodegradability and environmental impact post-consumer use

This ensures novel sustainable processes meet safety and performance expectations.

Benefits of Integrating Fabric Testing in Sustainable Manufacturing

1. Enhanced Consumer Trust and Brand Reputation

Sustainability claims backed by rigorous testing reassure consumers seeking safe and eco-friendly products. Transparent lab certifications and test reports build trust and strengthen brand loyalty.

2. Regulatory Compliance and Market Access

Many countries enforce regulations restricting hazardous chemicals in textiles (e.g., REACH in Europe). Fabric testing ensures compliance, preventing legal issues and enabling access to global green markets.

3. Innovation Acceleration

Testing labs enable manufacturers to trial and validate new sustainable materials and processes faster and with confidence, driving continuous improvement.

4. Cost Savings Through Waste Reduction

By identifying defects and inefficiencies early, fabric testing reduces material waste, rework, and recalls — lowering operational costs and environmental impact.

5. Contribution to Circular Economy

Testing supports design for durability, recyclability, and biodegradability, fostering circular textile systems that reuse and recycle fibers sustainably.

Real-World Example: How Fabric Testing Transforms Sustainability Efforts

Consider a manufacturer shifting from conventional polyester to recycled polyester for sportswear:

Fabric testing confirms the recycled polyester meets strength, colorfastness, and moisture-wicking requirements.

Chemical residue analysis verifies absence of harmful dyes and finishes, meeting OEKO-TEX standards.

Durability tests ensure garments last as long as conventional counterparts, reducing landfill waste.

Test data guides adjustments to dyeing processes, reducing water and energy use.

Such testing empowers manufacturers to adopt greener materials confidently while maintaining product excellence.

Choosing the Right Fabric Testing Lab for Sustainability

For textile manufacturers aiming to enhance sustainability, partnering with accredited, experienced fabric testing labs is vital. Key factors to consider:

ISO/IEC 17025 Accreditation for global recognition of lab competence

Expertise in eco-certification testing such as OEKO-TEX, GOTS, and REACH compliance

State-of-the-art equipment for advanced chemical, physical, and biodegradability testing

Customized testing packages tailored to sustainable textiles

Consultancy services to interpret results and recommend process improvements

The right lab becomes a strategic partner in achieving sustainability goals.

Conclusion

Sustainable textile manufacturing is no longer optional but a necessity to protect our planet and meet evolving market expectations. Textiles and fabrics testing lies at the heart of this transformation, ensuring materials and processes align with environmental and social responsibility without sacrificing quality.

From verifying chemical safety and fiber authenticity to optimizing resource use and supporting innovative eco-finishes, fabric testing empowers manufacturers to produce textiles that are truly sustainable. By investing in robust testing protocols and partnering with qualified labs, the textile industry can accelerate its journey toward a greener, safer, and more sustainable future.

[thatswhatsushesaid]

there's really nothing like wearing a piece of clothing made just for you by someone who loves you.

[clit-a-cola]

Periods are probably more likely to be irregular in the wasteland due to radiation and the various levels of food insecurity and S T R E S S.

But I wonder if everyone's just free bleeding or if they've reinvented pads.

Cause like depending on where you are you don't wanna waste clean water on cleaning reusable pads. But at the same time I can not IMAGINE the sort of wasteland fuck off diseases and mutations that'd result from pads cleaned with dirty AND irradiated water with who fucking knows trace amounts of FEV floating in it with the microplastics

[crankydevon]

fiber burn test

You think “oh it would be useful to learn how to identify my thrifted yarn and clothing” and before you know it you’ve been recruited by fiber witches giving out their spells willy nilly, again

[bevanne46]

Apparently, I have to buy more fabric!

[itclabs]

Top-Rated Textiles Testing Services at ITC Labs | Fabric & Apparel Quality Testing Lab

Ensure the highest standards of quality and safety for your fabrics with ITC Labs, the leading name in textiles testing services. Our state-of-the-art fabric testing lab offers comprehensive testing for garments, cloth, and apparel. From fabric quality testing to specialized garment testing, our expert team delivers precise and reliable results. Trust ITC Labs for all your textile testing needs and guarantee your products meet industry standards. Discover our top-rated textile testing lab today. Visit our website now and request a quote for your testing needs!

[gester-tester]

Textile Bursting Strength Tester GT-C12B

[hang-on-lil-tomato]

great chart! also good for yarn!

Get yourself a fabric store that will light your fabric on fire for you

No but legit I asked what the fiber content of something was and the guy didn’t know so he cut a chunk off and lit it on fire and felt the ashes and was like. Yeah this is mostly cotton with a lil bit of silk. And that was the moment I knew. This is it. This is the fabric store for me. Also that guy is marriage material. Not for me but damn some person is gonna be so happy with him.

[labtronorg]

Fabric Air Permeability Tester

Fabric Air Permeability Tester: Sample Pressure Range: 1–4000 Pa; Measurable Permeability: 1–4000 mm/s; Measurement Error: le-plusmn-2; Shop Online at Labtron.org!

[flexitest1234]

Technical Textiles, its growth and impact in India.

Technical textiles are specialized textile materials designed and manufactured for their functional properties and performance characteristics rather than their aesthetic appeal. Unlike conventional textiles used in fashion or home furnishings, technical textiles are engineered to meet specific requirements and perform specific functions in various industries. Technical textiles are used in a wide range of applications due to their unique properties such as strength, durability, chemical resistance, heat resistance, electrical conductivity, flame retardancy, and many others. They are often used as components, reinforcements, or protective materials in various industries. Technical textiles are used in the automotive industry for applications such as airbags, seatbelts, upholstery, car interiors, sound insulation, tire reinforcements, and filtration systems. In the aerospace sector, technical textiles find applications in aircraft seating, cabin interiors, composite materials, insulation, thermal protection, parachutes, and airship structures. Geotextiles are used in civil engineering and construction projects for erosion control, soil stabilization, drainage systems, landfills, roads, railways, and coastal protection. Technical textiles play a vital role in the medical and healthcare fields, including wound dressings, bandages, surgical gowns, medical implants, surgical meshes, diapers, and hygiene products. Technical textiles are utilized in the production of protective clothing for workers in industries such as firefighting, chemical handling, oil and gas, mining, and military applications. They provide protection against heat, chemicals, biological hazards, and other occupational risks. Sportswear, outdoor clothing, footwear, backpacks, tents, sleeping bags, and sports equipment are also a part of technical textiles, they provide properties such as moisture-wicking, breathability, abrasion resistance, and UV protection. Technical textiles are employed in filtration applications, including air filters, liquid filters, fuel filters, and industrial filtration systems. They help in removing contaminants and particles from fluids or gases.

The government of India has recognized the importance of technical textiles and has implemented policies to support its growth. The industry encompasses a wide range of products and applications, catering to both domestic and international markets. The technical textiles industry in India offers significant growth potential, driven by increasing industrialization, infrastructure development, and demand for advanced materials and solutions across various sectors. With supportive government policies, a strong manufacturing base, and a focus on innovation, India is poised to emerge as a key player in the global technical textiles market. Here are some key aspects of the technical textiles industry in India:

Market Size and Growth: The technical textiles sector in India has been growing at a steady pace, with increasing demand from sectors such as automotive, healthcare, construction, agriculture, and infrastructure. The market size of the Indian technical textiles industry was estimated to be around USD 19 billion in 2020 and is projected to reach USD 28 billion by 2024.

Product Segments: The technical textiles industry in India consists of various product segments, including agrotextiles, geotextiles, medical textiles, protective textiles, sportstextiles, industrial textiles, and automotive textiles. Each segment has its own specific applications and requirements.

Government Initiatives and Policies: The Indian government has taken several initiatives to promote the technical textiles sector. The Ministry of Textiles has launched schemes such as the Technology Upgradation Fund Scheme (TUFS) and the Scheme for Promotion of Technical Textiles and Man-Made Fibres to provide financial assistance, infrastructure support, and technology upgradation to manufacturers in the sector.

Manufacturing and Infrastructure: India has a strong manufacturing base for technical textiles, with numerous companies involved in the production of various technical textile products. The country has invested in establishing dedicated technical textile parks and clusters to encourage collaboration, innovation, and infrastructure development in the sector.

Export Potential: India has emerged as a major exporter of technical textiles, supplying products to various countries across the globe. The export-oriented units (EOUs) and Special Economic Zones (SEZs) provide favorable policies and incentives for technical textile manufacturers to boost their export potential.

Research and Development: Several academic institutions, research organizations, and industry associations in India are actively engaged in research and development activities related to technical textiles. Efforts are being made to develop innovative products, improve manufacturing processes, and enhance the performance and functionality of technical textiles.

Regulatory Framework: The Bureau of Indian Standards (BIS) has formulated standards and guidelines for various technical textile products to ensure their quality and compliance with industry standards. These standards help in maintaining product quality, safety, and reliability.

Sustainability and Eco-friendly Solutions: The technical textiles industry in India is also focusing on sustainable practices and eco-friendly solutions. There is increasing emphasis on the use of recycled materials, bio-based fibers, and eco-friendly manufacturing processes to reduce the environmental impact of technical textiles.

The growth and development of the technical textiles industry in India have been significant over the past decade. The sector has gained prominence due to its wide range of applications and the increasing demand for specialized textile products in various industries. Technical textiles are indeed considered the future of the textile industry due to their diverse applications, advanced functionalities, and growing demand across various sectors. Technical textiles involve continuous innovation and advancements in materials, manufacturing techniques, and functional properties. Researchers and manufacturers are exploring new fiber types, coatings, composites, and smart materials to develop textiles with enhanced performance, durability, and functionality which is designed to meet specific performance requirements and offer specialized functionalities. They possess properties such as high strength, flame resistance, moisture management, UV protection, antibacterial properties, conductivity, and much more. These attributes make technical textiles suitable for a wide range of industries, including automotive, healthcare, construction, aerospace, and sports. The development of technical textiles often involves collaboration and cross-sector integration. Textile manufacturers, material scientists, engineers, designers, and end-users work together to create tailored solutions for specific applications. This interdisciplinary approach fosters innovation and encourages knowledge exchange between industries. The market for technical textiles is expanding rapidly worldwide. Increasing industrialization, urbanization, infrastructure development, and the need for advanced materials drive the demand for technical textiles. This growth presents opportunities for manufacturers, researchers, and entrepreneurs to innovate and tap into emerging markets. Technical textiles are designed to meet stringent performance and safety standards. They offer improved protection against hazards, including fire, chemicals, extreme temperatures, and biological agents. Technical textiles are crucial in industries such as personal protective equipment (PPE), automotive safety, and industrial applications. Technical textiles contribute to sustainability in multiple ways. They enable the use of recycled and bio-based materials, promote energy efficiency, reduce waste, enhance product lifespan, and provide solutions for environmental challenges, such as pollution control and water conservation. The emphasis on eco-friendly practices positions technical textiles as a sustainable alternative to traditional textiles.

The future of textiles lies in the continued growth and development of technical textiles. With their advanced functionalities, sustainability focus, and ability to address complex challenges, technical textiles offer immense opportunities for the textile industry to thrive in a rapidly changing world.

[testing-services]

The Role of Textile Testing in Automotive Interior Manufacturing

In the world of modern automotive design, vehicle interiors have evolved from purely functional elements to luxurious, performance-enhancing spaces. One key driver behind this transformation is the increasing use of advanced textiles and fabrics in car interiors. From seat upholstery and headliners to door panels and carpeting, textiles now define much of the vehicle’s aesthetic and comfort. However, behind the stylish appearance and tactile comfort lies a critical process—Textiles and Fabrics Testing.

Textiles and Fabrics Testing in the automotive industry ensures that interior materials meet performance, safety, and regulatory standards required for modern vehicles. As automotive manufacturers strive to deliver top-tier products to global markets, rigorous testing of interior fabrics becomes indispensable for quality assurance, customer satisfaction, and compliance.

Why Textiles and Fabrics Matter in Automotive Interiors

Automotive interiors are subjected to unique stressors not found in other textile applications. These materials must withstand high temperatures, UV exposure, friction, spills, and wear from daily use. Additionally, vehicle manufacturers must meet stringent safety and flammability standards, making textile testing a foundational step in the manufacturing process.

Common Textile Applications in Automotive Interiors:

Seat covers and backrests

Headliners and sun visors

Floor carpeting and mats

Door trim fabrics

Pillar covers

Cargo liners and trunk covers

Importance of Textiles and Fabrics Testing in the Automotive Industry

1. Ensuring Durability and Longevity

One of the core purposes of fabric testing in automotive applications is to ensure that materials can withstand long-term use without degradation. Lab tests simulate wear and tear conditions such as abrasion, fading, and temperature fluctuation to predict real-world performance.

2. Meeting Safety Regulations

Automotive textiles must comply with safety standards, especially flammability regulations. Unchecked, interior fabrics can become ignition points in accidents. Testing ensures that materials meet legal requirements like FMVSS 302, ECE R118, and other global standards.

3. Enhancing Aesthetic and Functional Quality

Fabrics used in vehicle interiors must maintain colorfastness, dimensional stability, and tactile feel over time. Testing ensures that color does not bleed, materials do not shrink or stretch excessively, and surfaces remain smooth and attractive.

4. Reducing Environmental and Chemical Risks

With growing attention to VOC emissions, odor, and chemical residue, automotive textile testing includes chemical analyses to detect formaldehyde, heavy metals, and other harmful substances, helping manufacturers meet environmental benchmarks like REACH and RoHS.

Key Tests Performed in Automotive Textile Testing Labs

1. Abrasion Resistance Testing

Tests like the Martindale or Taber methods are used to simulate fabric wear caused by repeated rubbing or friction. This determines the fabric's ability to endure long-term use without visible degradation.

2. Colorfastness Testing

Automotive interiors are exposed to sunlight and human interaction. Labs assess:

Colorfastness to light (UV resistance)

Colorfastness to rubbing (crocking)

Colorfastness to perspiration and water

3. Flammability Testing

One of the most critical safety evaluations:

FMVSS 302: Measures burn rate of interior materials.

ECE R118: Required for buses and commercial vehicles in Europe.

4. Tensile and Tear Strength

This test ensures materials won’t rip or stretch easily under pressure—essential for seat covers, which face daily stress from passengers.

5. Chemical Testing

Fabric testing labs analyze textile composition for harmful substances and odors:

Formaldehyde content

Volatile Organic Compounds (VOCs)

Phthalates and plasticizers

Heavy metal analysis

6. Thermal Aging and UV Resistance

Testing how materials hold up to prolonged heat and UV exposure is key, especially for vehicles used in hot climates.

7. Dimensional Stability and Shrinkage

Ensures fabric maintains shape after exposure to heat or humidity, preventing sagging headliners or wrinkled seat covers.

Role of Accredited Testing Labs in Automotive Compliance

To meet international quality benchmarks, automotive OEMs rely on ISO 17025 accredited textile labs. These labs offer validated procedures, traceable test results, and certification that complies with:

Automotive OEM specifications

International safety regulations

REACH and RoHS directives

Customer-specific quality requirements

Using a certified Textiles and Fabrics Testing lab ensures that materials will not just pass internal audits but also satisfy regulatory inspections across North America, Europe, Asia, and the Middle East.

How Fabric Testing Affects the Supply Chain

Textile testing impacts every stage of the automotive manufacturing supply chain:

For Material Suppliers:

Verifies compliance with OEM technical data sheets

Provides test reports for raw fabric certification

For Tier-1 and Tier-2 Suppliers:

Ensures intermediate parts (e.g., pre-stitched seat covers) meet end-use specifications

Supports quality audits and sampling procedures

For OEMs:

Prevents costly recalls due to material failure

Enhances consumer trust and brand value

Simplifies import/export through valid testing documentation

Advancements in Automotive Textile Testing

As materials science evolves, fabric testing labs have adopted advanced tools like:

Infrared Spectroscopy (FTIR): For polymer and fiber identification

Gas Chromatography (GC-MS): For VOC detection

Digital Microscopy and Surface Analysis

AI-driven test automation for faster results

These advancements allow for more precise, repeatable testing that accelerates product development without sacrificing quality.

The Future of Textile Testing in Automotive Interiors

With the rise of electric vehicles, sustainable materials, and smart fabrics, the importance of textile testing will only grow. Labs will increasingly need to:

Validate recycled and biodegradable textiles

Assess thermal and electrical conductivity in smart textiles

Ensure compatibility with sensors and electronics

As innovation in automotive interiors continues, Textiles and Fabrics Testing will remain the gatekeeper for quality, safety, and compliance.

Final Thoughts

The integration of high-performance fabrics into vehicle interiors has revolutionized automotive design. But without proper Textiles and Fabrics Testing, these innovations carry risks—from durability issues to safety violations. That’s why fabric testing labs are more than quality control checkpoints—they’re strategic partners that ensure global compliance, reduce recalls, and deliver the excellence today’s automotive market demands.

Whether you're an OEM, a component supplier, or a textile manufacturer, partnering with a competent, accredited fabric testing lab is not just recommended—it’s essential to your success in the global automotive sector.

[daeniradraconis]

"I want to hear you beg for it, and don’t even think about holding back." With Willy Nylander 🔥

Thank you for your request! I hope you will love this. 💖 I'm also working on the other requests—I’ve got a few lined up, so please be patient! ✨

--- Winter Heat

The drive to the cabin had been a power play—William’s hand firm on the wheel while the other roamed your body like it belonged there, fingers teasing, claiming. His grip tightened on your thigh, sliding up just enough to make you shiver before retreating, leaving a trail of heat in its wake. Every now and then, he shot you a knowing glance, blue eyes gleaming brighter than the snow piling up outside, a silent promise of what was coming.

“You’re already squirming,” he mused, voice low and cocky, smirking as his fingers squeezed just a little harder. “Can’t even wait ‘til we get there, huh?”

You huffed, crossing your arms, but that only made him chuckle, that deep, taunting sound that made your pulse quicken.

By the time you reached the cabin, the sky had darkened, the snow falling in soft, lazy drifts. Inside, the fireplace roared, throwing a golden glow over the room, but William’s focus was already elsewhere. The hot tub on the balcony, steam curling into the cold night air, was calling him—and you.

He kicked the door shut behind you and, without hesitation, pulled his sweater over his head in one fluid motion, tossing it aside as if it had somehow wronged him. His smirk was wicked as he went for the rest—pants, briefs, all of it—until he stood before you, gloriously naked, all lean muscle and shameless confidence.

“No clothes in my house,” he declared, voice smooth but edged with command. His gaze pinned you like a predator toying with its meal. “You too, älskling. Strip. Now.”

You hesitated—not out of shyness, but because you wanted to make him wait.

Bad idea.

William’s expression darkened. He closed the space between you in two slow, deliberate steps, his warmth brushing against your chilled skin. His hands, unyielding and sure, found your jacket, dragging the zipper down with agonizing patience. He leaned in, lips barely ghosting your jaw.

“Don’t test me,” he warned, voice dropping into a growl. “You know I don’t mind ripping things.”

Your breath hitched. Fingers shaking slightly, you grabbed the hem of your shirt and peeled it over your head, the fabric slipping to the floor. You held his gaze as you unbuttoned your jeans, sliding them down inch by inch. He watched like a man starving, his breath hitching just enough to betray him.

When you stood bare under his heated stare, the corner of his mouth twitched. “That’s more like it,” he murmured, his hand sliding possessively down your side. “I don’t fuck around with textiles—inside or out. You know that.”

His grip was firm but teasing as he seized your wrist, dragging you toward the balcony. The cold bit at your exposed skin instantly, snowflakes melting against your fevered flesh, but William didn’t flinch. He stepped into the steaming water first, muscles flexing as he lowered himself in. The water lapped at his broad chest, mist curling around his skin like it worshiped him.

Then he patted his thigh, eyes glinting with command.

“In. Now.”

You obeyed, slipping into the scalding water, but before you could even settle, his hands were on you—firm, commanding. In one swift, effortless motion, he pulled you onto his lap, his cock pressing against you, hot and teasing, grinding just enough to make you gasp.

Then—he stilled.

A cruel pause. A deliberate torment. His grip tightened, fingers digging into your flesh as he held you there, right there, his cock nudging at your entrance without giving you what you needed.

His breath was slow, measured, the ghost of a smirk playing at his lips. “Not enough for you, huh?” His voice was pure sin, low and taunting. “Then get up.”

Your brows furrowed, but he wasn’t asking. His hands moved with effortless strength, guiding you, forcing you to turn.

“Bend over,” he ordered.

He maneuvered you until you were facing the terrace window, gripping the edge of the hot tub with shaky hands. The cold air bit at your wet skin, but the heat of his body behind you was suffocating.

A shiver ran down your spine, but not from the cold. From the way he watched you—like he was taking his time, savoring every second of control he had over you.

His hands skimmed over your ass, possessive and slow. Then—crack.

You gasped as the sharp sting of his palm landed on your ass, heat blooming instantly.

“Fuck, look at that,” he murmured, rubbing over the mark he left before delivering another sharp slap, making you jolt. “So fucking pretty when you take it.”

Your fingers tightened around the edge of the tub, heat pooling between your legs. He knew exactly what he was doing—teasing you, testing how long you could last before you broke.

As you shifted slightly, your gaze caught his reflection in the glass. His chest was bare, the soft glow from the lights catching the faint blonde hairs across his strong chest. He looked even more dangerous like this—his eyes dark, watching you intently as if he couldn’t wait any longer. The way his body moved, the muscles in his arms and shoulders flexing as he adjusted behind you—there was something raw and undeniable in the way he held himself.

He looked like a god—blonde and rugged, all raw masculinity that made you ache with desire just by existing.

His cock pressed between your thighs, hot and heavy, sliding through your slick folds. Just enough to make you ache.

Then—nothing.

Just the thick head of his cock resting against you, teasing, taunting, while his breath ghosted over your back.

“You know what I want,” he murmured, voice dark with amusement. His grip tightened on your hips, holding you in place. “I want to hear you beg for it, and don’t even think about holding back.”

Your pride warred with your desperation, but the ache between your legs was unbearable.

“Willy—” you started, voice shaky, but he just waited, cock resting right there, his silence its own kind of torture.

Another sharp slap to your ass, harder this time. “Try again.”

You whimpered, gripping the tub tighter. “Please,” you gasped, your voice breaking. “Please, Willy...fuck me. I need your cock so bad...I’m a needy little slut for it, please, just take me.”

His low, satisfied chuckle sent heat curling through your body.

“That’s my girl.”

Then—he thrust.

A brutal snap of his hips, stretching you open all at once. The force made your breath catch, your body jerking forward, but his grip on your hips kept you exactly where he wanted.

“Fuck, yes,” he groaned, the sound breaking into something rough and primal. He pulled back—then slammed into you again, the hot tub sloshing violently around you.

You clung to the edge, moaning helplessly as he took you, deep and ruthless. His hands gripped your hips so tightly it was almost bruising, dragging you back onto his cock with each powerful thrust.

His fingers tangled in your hair, yanking your head back just enough to whisper against your ear. “You feel that?” His voice was dark, breathless. “That’s me—filling you, ruining you.”

You could barely think, barely breathe, pleasure coiling hot and tight in your core.

One hand slipped between your legs, fingers finding your clit with ruthless precision. “Gonna come for me?” he taunted, his voice rough with hunger. “Come all over my cock while I fuck you full?”

His thrusts turned desperate, erratic. He was close, just as wrecked as you.

"Do it," he growled, fingers pressing into you with relentless pressure. "Come for me. Milk my cock."

The demand sent you spiraling, your body shattering as pleasure exploded through you in a violent wave. You screamed his name, your walls tightening around him, drawing him deeper. The intensity of it all left you breathless.

He groaned, the sound raw and desperate, and his hips snapped forward one final time, burying himself deep inside as he spilled into you. The uncontrollable force of it sent a surge of electricity through your veins, a raw thrill coursing through every inch of you.

For a moment, you both just stayed there—panting, the air thick with steam and heat. His grip on your hips remained firm, holding you steady as snowflakes melted against your overheated body. His breath scorched your skin, sending shivers down your spine.

Then, his lips brushed your ear, voice gravelly, deep with satisfaction.

"Good girl," he murmured.

Your legs trembled, barely able to keep you upright as you clung to the edge of the hot tub, your body still pulsing from the aftershocks of your release. William remained behind you for a moment, his chest rising and falling against your back, his breath hot against your damp skin.

Slowly, he pulled out, making you gasp from the sudden emptiness

“Easy, älskling,” he murmured, voice softer now, his hands steadying you as he turned you in his arms.

Your body sagged against his, exhausted and pliant, and in one effortless motion, he lifted you from the water. You barely had the strength to protest, your arms looping lazily around his neck as he carried you inside, bare skin hot against the cool air.

The fire crackled in the living room, filling the room with a glow. William didn’t stop until he reached the couch, lowering you onto the cushions with the kind of care that made your chest ache.

“Stay,” he ordered, but this time, there was no edge to his voice—just warmth, just something deep.

You watched, as he grabbed a thick, plush blanket from the armrest and wrapped it around you, tucking it in tight. The scent of him clung to the fabric, woodsy and warm, and you sighed, sinking into it.

He disappeared for a moment, and when he returned, he had a towel in one hand and a damp cloth in the other.

You blinked up at him, surprised. “Willy, you don’t have to—”

"Shh," he interrupted, his voice low and soothing. Kneeling beside you, he carefully lifted the blanket, his touch impossibly tender as he ran the cloth between your legs, carefully cleaning the mess he’d left inside you. His movements were slow, deliberate—each action marked by a quiet intensity, as though nothing existed in the world but you. "Let me take care of you," he whispered, his voice rich with quiet authority.

You exhaled, your body melting further into the couch as he worked, slow and methodical, his fingers brushing over your skin with reverence.

Once he was done, he tossed the towel aside and cupped your face, thumb stroking your cheek as he pressed a soft, lingering kiss to your forehead.

“You good?” he asked, voice quieter now, blue eyes searching yours.

You nodded, too content to form words, and he smirked—this one small, private, meant just for you.

“Be right back.”

He vanished into the kitchen, and when he returned, he had two glasses of wine in hand. He passed you one before settling beside you, tugging you against his chest.

You curled into him instinctively, your cheek resting over his heart, listening to the steady beat beneath your ear.

For a while, neither of you spoke. The fire crackled, the snow continued to fall outside, and William traced slow circles on your arm.

Then, finally, he broke the silence, his voice hushed, teasing.

“You were wild for me. My perfect little dirty girl.”

You laughed, breathless and soft, and his grip on you tightened just a little—like he wasn’t planning on letting go anytime soon.

And, honestly? You didn’t want him to.

[littlejoyss]

𝓯𝓪𝓽𝓮 𝓹𝓪𝓻𝓽 2

“One single thread of gold tied me to you.”

Stray Kids - Felix x Reader

Red (golden) string of fate trope

Word count (so far): 19k

𝓹𝓻𝓮𝓿𝓲𝓸𝓾𝓼 𝓹𝓪𝓻𝓽 ← 𝓬𝓾𝓻𝓻𝓮𝓷𝓽 𝓹𝓪𝓻𝓽 → 𝓷𝓮𝔁𝓽 𝓹𝓪𝓻𝓽

Today you were going to vist the venue and your prep studio. It felt more real now, less like a dream clinging to the fog of jetlag and more like something solid. Tangible. Your designs were here. Your collection. Your name printed on the schedule of Seoul Fashion Week.

You stood outside your hotel that morning, double-checking the address Bora had sent you. Your blazer was crisp, your boots steady on the pavement, and your tablet hugged tight to your side like a lifeline.

The thread around your pinky remained still. Dormant, like yesterday. You ignored it.

The taxi ride was short. Bora had messaged she’d meet you directly at the venue.

It was a converted industrial building in Gangnam, once a textile factory, now transformed into a sleek, modern event space with steel beams and floor-to-ceiling windows. Posters from past fashion shows were framed along the walls inside, each one etched with legacy and grandeur.

You stepped forward slowly, your boots clicking softly against the polished concrete floor. It was still early, too early for the chaos of models and stylists, but the space already pulsed with motion. Tech crews moved with practiced ease, climbing ladders and testing rigging cables.

You turned in a slow circle, taking it in. The hush of the early setup, the skeletal hush of potential. This was the same space you’d seen in pictures, in magazines, in livestreams you watched during college with wide eyes and a notebook balanced on your knees. Now you were here. Standing on the floor where your designs would soon walk.

The main runway extended nearly forty feet, raised just high enough to cast long, graceful shadows beneath it. To the right, black curtains marked off the backstage quick-change zone. A few designers and assistants were already ducking in and out with measuring tape, fabric swatches, and the kind of controlled panic that came from realizing how little time a month really was.

You reached out, trailing your fingers along the edge of the platform as you passed. It was smooth. Cold. Solid.

Your tablet pinged softly with a notification, but you didn’t check it yet. Instead, you wandered toward the end of the runway and stood there a moment longer, looking out like your models would. The wall ahead was a clean white backdrop now, but soon it would be washed in color and music and flashes of light. Soon, it would become the first impression of your name.

“Not bad for your first real runway,” a voice said behind you, amused and familiar.

You turned, already smiling. Bora stood there in a tailored coat and heels that somehow didn’t make a sound on the concrete. Her dark hair was pulled back, sharp and sleek like the rest of her, and she had a badge around her neck that marked her as someone who belonged here.

“Intimidated yet?” she asked.

“Beyond,” you admitted.

“Good. If you weren’t, I’d worry.” She started walking without waiting, and you fell into step beside her as she motioned toward the backstage curtain. “Come on. You need to see what you’re working with.”

The moment you stepped behind the curtain, the energy shifted. It was louder here. Narrower. Organized chaos, humming like a beehive.

“This is the designer backstage,” Bora said. “Each designer gets a prep studio, yours is over here.” She wove through garment racks and folding tables like she’d done it a thousand times. “You’ll share this half of the space with Shin Jiwoo’s team. Be civil, even if they’re not. Jiwoo’s team tends to be… territorial.”

You caught a glimpse of someone adjusting a mannequin in the neighboring zone, eyes already narrowed in your direction. You looked away.

Bora stopped in front of your section, a long metal rack, a few temporary dress forms, an empty table, and a space just wide enough for you and a couple assistants to function.

“It’s small,” she said before you could. “But so is everyone’s. The real magic happens out there.” She pointed toward the runway. “Back here is just stitching, swearing, and sweat.”

You laughed under your breath, the sound slipping out easier than expected.

“There’ll be mirrors installed here next week,” she continued. “And better lighting. You’ll get your fittings schedule by tomorrow. Once your pieces arrive here, we’ll organize and tag each look. Stick to your order of presentation, no last-minute reshuffling, unless you want to give the stage director a panic attack.”

“I won’t change anything,” you promised, already imagining your garments filling the empty rack. They felt like ghosts right now. Half-remembered sketches. But soon…

Bora gave you a side glance, her expression unreadable for a moment. “You look like you belong here.”

You blinked. “I feel like I’m pretending.”

“Fake it until your first model steps onto the runway. Then you won’t have to fake anything.”

You nodded slowly. The nerves were still there, but now they tangled with something sharper. Determination. Purpose.

Bora smiled at your expression chane. “C’mon, have you had coffee this morning?”

You shook your head, a wry smile forming. “Not unless you count the two sips I had before nearly missing my taxi.”

Bora clicked her tongue in disapproval and gestured toward the exit. “Unacceptable. Come on. There’s a place two blocks down that doesn’t burn their beans.”

You followed her out of the building, the blast of cool morning air hitting your face as the door swung shut behind you. The noise of the venue gave way to the quieter hum of city traffic, early commuters, and the distant call of a street vendor setting up. It grounded you in a different way, like Seoul itself was trying to steady you.

You matched Bora’s pace, letting her confident strides set the rhythm. The thread around your pinky was still quiet, tucked neatly beneath your sleeve, your focus entirely on the day ahead, until it wasn’t.

You didn’t notice the first shift. Not right away.

It began as a warmth, a sudden flicker beneath your skin, like the first moment a flame catches a wick. You paused, mid-step, looking down.

And there it was.

Your thread glowed.

Not gently, not in that soft, idle pulse it sometimes offered at dawn.

No, this was bright. Vivid. Alive.

And then… It pulled.

You stumbled.

Not just a tug. A jerk. Like something on the other end had just realized you were here, really here, and had grabbed the cord like a lifeline. The force nearly spun you off the sidewalk, and you caught yourself with a hand to a nearby lamppost.

“Whoa,” Bora said, already reaching for you. “You okay?”

Your breath caught. “The thread-” you looked down at your hand. It shimmered gold, a radiant thread of light so bright you could see it even in the sunlight.

And it was tight. Pulled taut like it was straining to be followed.

Bora followed your gaze. “Shit,” she muttered. “Now?”

You nodded mutely, still braced against the lamppost.

“Direction?” she asked, voice clipped, professional.

You turned slowly, following the thread as it stretched left, down the street you weren’t even planning to walk down, disappearing around a corner like a beckoning whisper.

Your heart pounded. It had never done this before. Not like this.

Bora exhaled as she looked where you were looking. “We can reroute. Coffee’s that way anyway.”

You looked at her, stunned. “You’re not going to stop me?”

She gave you a dry look. “Please. Like I could. I can’t see your thread, obviously, but it looks like it’s ready to drag you down the street by the throat.”

You hesitated only a moment longer, then nodded.

You followed it. Past a convenience store with sun-faded signs. Past an alley that smelled of engine oil and garlic. Past a florist where bursts of peonies and baby’s breath spilled out into the street. The thread remained taut, glowing faintly even in the morning light, unwavering.

Bora kept pace beside you, silent now, eyes flicking between you and the path ahead.

You turned another corner, and stopped.

A crowd had gathered on the sidewalk ahead. Not tourists. Not locals. Paparazzi.

You recognized them instantly, cameras slung over shoulders, long-lens lenses pointed forward like rifles. A wall of flashing bulbs went off in waves, punctuated by the hiss of shutters and the sharp bark of names.

Bora swore under her breath. “Idols.”

The thread pulsed against your skin.

You stood on your toes, trying to see. Bora pulled you gently toward the edge of the sidewalk, out of sight for now. You craned your neck.

Eight men were walking toward a black van idling at the curb. Security flanked them, carving a path through the crowd.

You looked around, “One of these cameramen must be my soulmate!”

Bora gave you a look, half deadpan, half amused. “Really?” she said. “That’s your theory?”

You shrugged, trying to make light of it, trying to calm the sharp flutter in your chest. “Well, the thread’s pulling and they’re the only ones not moving. Maybe I’m destined to fall for someone who lives in a press vest and yells ‘over here’ for a living.”

Bora arched an eyebrow. “You think it’s a guy shouting for attention, not one of the eight men everyone is shouting about?”

“Pft. What are the odds of my soulmate being an idol?”

“In this city? Honestly? Higher than you'd think.”

You opened your mouth to toss back another joke, something about fate having a twisted sense of humor, but the words caught.

Because he turned.

Not all eight. Just one. Just him.

He turned toward the crowd with the casual sort of glance you’d seen a thousand times in fan cams and magazines, that half-second check of the scene before ducking into the van. But his eyes passed over the cameras, over the shouting fans, and landed, stopped, on you.

And he gasped. You saw it. The way his whole face changed in an instant. His expression cracked open like he’d been struck.

And then your thread stung. Not warm, not glowing. It burned. Like a sudden bolt of electricity through your hand, up your arm, through your ribs.

You flinched, breath catching as you clutched your pinky.

He stumbled. Not visibly, not enough for the cameras to catch it, but you saw it. That half-step falter, the way his hand instinctively reached toward his own pinky, hidden beneath the sleeve of a designer jacket.

He felt it too.

For the briefest of moments, you locked eyes. Neither of you moved. Neither of you could.

And then security surged.

One of the bodyguards stepped between you without even noticing you were there. Another hand on the idol’s shoulder, guiding, firm.

“No- wait-” he said, but it was too soft, too late.

They bundled him toward the van like a current sweeping him away, his body turning, his eyes still on you, wide and wild with disbelief.

You opened your mouth. You don’t know what you meant to say. Don’t go?

But the door slammed shut and the van pulled away. The thread tugged hard, like it hated being stretched. And then the pain dulled. Still tight. Still real. But no longer searing.

Bora, who had gone silent beside you, let out a slow breath. “Okay. That,” she said, “was not one of the cameramen.”

You could barely nod.

You stared after the van’s trail down the road, heart still hammering. “What do I do now?”

Bora tilted her head. “You go get coffee.”

You turned, incredulous.

“And then,” she said, “we figure out which member of one of the biggest K-pop groups in the world just imprinted on you like a drama protagonist. Cool?”

You blinked. “Cool.”

But the thread still pulsed against your skin. He was out there. And he’d felt it too.

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

“So,” Bora opened her laptop at the coffee shop. “There aren’t a lot of eight member boy groups that are popular enough to have that much paparazzi. This should relatively easy to figure out. What did he look like?”

You sipped your coffee trying to calm your nerves. “Uh…he had blonde hair. And…freckles. That’s all I remember. I only saw him for a few seconds.”

Bora practically gasped.“Freckles?” she hissed, already typing fast. “Blonde hair and freckles? Are you joking?”

You blinked, startled. “No, why?”

She spun the laptop toward you, screen angled so the sun glare didn’t hit. “Because that narrows it down to, like… one person.”

You leaned in, heart thudding.

A video was paused mid-frame, clearly a fan-taken clip from the crowd during an event. But the one in the middle, slightly behind the others, head tilted as if searching the crowd, was unmistakable.

Blonde hair, catching the light. Soft jawline. A smattering of freckles over the bridge of his nose, visible even through the slightly pixelated footage.

You gasped. “That’s him.”

“Holy shit! Your soulmate is the Lee Felix!” Bora then covered her mouth and looked around, making sure no one heard her.

She exhales like she’s been holding her breath since the sidewalk. “All right, listen up, rookie. Idol soul‑links are messy. We need a plan before this blows up.”

You manage a shaky laugh. “A plan? I still haven’t processed that my soulmate is-”

“-one‑eighth of a stadium‑filling phenomenon, yes.” She snaps the laptop shut, voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Which means everything from now on is important. You’re an incoming Fashion Week headliner; he’s global press bait. One wrong move, the tabloids eat both of you alive.”

You blink, heart pounding. “So what do we do?”

“First,” she says, ticking points off on perfectly manicured fingers, “you focus on your collection. Seoul Fashion Week is in four weeks, and Felix’s schedule is a black‑out wall of rehearsals, music shows, and live streams. Fate can’t trump deadlines.”

The thread under your sleeve gives a gentle throb, like it disagrees.

“Second,” Bora continues, “we gather intel the professional way, quietly. Stray Kids have a showcase taping tomorrow night at SBS Prism Tower. Industry passes are…get‑able.” Her smirk says she already knows a guy.

“Alright. Focus on the show, but also try to see him again. I understand.”

tag list (comment to be added!): @hwangjoanna

[daveth-isnt-dead]

Overlock Stitch Part 2/?

Summary:

Viktor is just trying his best to survive his years as a student at the academy when a girl studying textiles suddenly begs him to let her tailor his uniform. She is right, it doesn't fit, but he isn't in the business of accepting charity from strangers. "Please?" She asks, "It would be fully anonymous on your part and we would both be better off." Then again, but with feeling, "please?" Viktor eyes her again and against his better judgement, presents an undeserved olive branch, "Will you be here tomorrow?" Her smile is so wide it almost makes him want to recoil. He wonders if her cheeks hurt.

Contains: Third person POV, She/Her Pronouns for reader

Word Count: 5,311

Read on AO3

She manages to shove her embarrassment down long enough to get the photos taken, organising them into a neat stack and then leaving them on her worktable for later. Viktor has gone back to not talking very much at all, wordlessly adjusting his stance for her photos but otherwise just peering down at her quietly. His eyes are coolly intelligent and piercing, she has to avoid making eye contact or she completely looses her focus.

Her hands shake when she picks up her pins, sticking a few into the pincushion on her wrist for easier access, "I'll start with your shirt, if that's alright."

Viktor nods and continues watching intently as she takes a tentative step forward and reaches for his wrist. She notices his knuckles tighten when her fingers brush against him, but she tries her best to ignore it. The cuffs on his shirt are a touch too long, so she exhales an even breath out through her nose and folds the fabric of his sleeve up under itself so she can raise the cuff and pin along the seam-line.

Her voice shakes, but talking makes her feel less nervous, "It's best to make all the alterations against the existing seam, that way no one can tell you've had any tailoring done at all." she grabs a few more pins from her pincushion and works to adjust the loose fabric around his elbow, "That's why most of my classmates prefer to do design work, because if you're a good tailor, no one will ever notice you."

Viktor hums at that, it's a pleasant sound. Oddly warm.

Since he doesn't seem to mind her talking, she keeps doing it, "The forearm of your shirt fits pretty well, but the upper arm will need some work. Just-" her brow furrows as she pins along the seam all the way up his arm, "Just try to stay still, I haven't um, I haven't had much of a chance to do alterations on a person."

"Ah, I am a test subject, then?"

She isn't sure if that was supposed to be a joke, but it makes her laugh and she lets it, "I suppose so? Most of the other students I've done work for only ask for cosmetic alterations, minor, usually. I've had plenty of practice on mannequins though, so just don't breathe and it'll be fine."

This time Viktor laughs, a gentle chuckle the rises up and out from his chest. Hearing it is like an achievement in and of itself and she can't help the shy smile that tugs at the corners of her lips.

"Hey, no laughing either or you'll get a pin in the ribs."

He exhales an amused breath and then says, "Yes, of course, my apologies."

She moves onto his second arm, feeling much more confident this time. Part of her wants to express just how grateful she is that Viktor even agreed to meeting with her today, but anxiety churning in her gut worries about coming on too strong, too desperate. So she keeps her mouth shut, adjusting his cuff and then pinning up the length of his arm the same as the previous.

"There." She says, quietly admiring her own handiwork, "Much better already. Um, I will need you to hop down from the platform for just a moment, I won't be able to reach your shoulders while you're up there."

As before, Viktor follows her directions quickly and without complaint, she does notice the way he braces his cane on the floor before stepping down and tries her best to avert her eyes when his brows draw together in what is clearly a wince of pain. She resists the urge to apologise again, because she gets the sense he doesn't like when she does that, even though the word sorry escapes her more often than breath does. Like it's perpetually waiting in her lungs.

"Thank you." She says instead, which is marginally better. Viktor just nods in response.

Her heart jumps a little when she steps towards him again, assessing his waistcoat first. It's too long, and loose around his chest. It will need quite a bit of work, and presuming the shirt underneath is the same size, it will need just about the same amount. She hums, eyeing the upward jut of his left shoulder, debating if she can account for his uneven stance when pinning just to save herself from having to ask any invasive questions. In the end, she decides against it, getting the job done properly will be worth the momentary embarrassment. No matter how much her hands shake at the thought.

"I'll need your shoulders at neutral when I'm pinning, or it will end up wonky." She begins shakily, wringing her hands together. Then, with trepidation she adds, "will you be alright to stand without your cane for a few minutes?"

Viktor tilts his head back and forth, weighing the question before giving her a curt nod.

"Okay!" She says, relieved that he didn't seem at all offended by her question and reaching out to take the cane from him.

The moment her fingers brush against it, Viktor yanks back from her, every muscle in his body tensing, his eyes fiery and jaw set in a challenging line. The inhale and exhale of his breath is sharp, a furious punch of his chest and the grip he has on the cane turns his knuckles white.

She has no idea how to break the thick and painful silence, her hand still half raised in the air because she is worried that even lowering it back to her side might seem like a threat. Her mouth opens and closes, as she tries to figure out what she has done wrong, what to say or do to fix this. The arch of his brow is dangerous, threatening, but with her eyes locked to his in a frozen panic, she can't help but notice how pretty their colour is. Even if the intensity of his gaze makes her nearly want to turn and run from the room.

"Never take it from me." He hisses between gritted teeth, "You Pilties think that you can just take whatever you want whenever you want, but you cannot ever take this from me, do you understand? Never."

Her heart thumps wildly in her chest and she suddenly remembers yesterday when he asked if she thought he was dangerous. He is all sharp angles, looming over her with a posture that screams violence. But he doesn't move, he just keeps on staring at her and maybe because she takes the time to look, she thinks that she sees something like fear hiding behind his eyes.

She takes a deep breath and tries to keep her voice even when she says, "I shouldn't have done that, I'm sorry."

He doesn't offer false platitudes, doesn't tell her that it's fine, or that she doesn't need to apologise. Doesn't insinuate that there will be no harm done so long as she offers him a favour in return for his silence, instead he bites a quick, "Do not do that again." and it's equal parts refreshing and terrifying.

"Yes, I won't. I'm sorry"

The tension leaves his shoulders a little, but she can tell he is still wound tight, "Go get the stool." He says quickly, inclining his head towards the tall stool by Eliza's project. She does as asked, bringing it over and placing it next to him. He leans the cane against it, well within arm's reach. It's only now, when the intensity in the room has begun to dissipate, that she realises exactly what she did when she snatched his cane from him. It's not just an object, it is his mobility and she had just tried to take it away without permission.

She picks at her cuticles, once again getting the sense that a plethora of apologies will not have the desired effect, not matter how desperately she wants to let them loose. Instead she takes a deep breath in through her nose and endeavours to prove that she is at least capable of not making the same mistake twice, "Is it alright if I get back to doing the alterations?" she asks quietly, adding on a quick, "You can leave if you want, I'd understand if you did."

"No. I'd rather you finish what you started." Viktor answers, short sharp and polite enough but no politer.

Relief rushes through her, not an irreparable mistake, then. She's so glad. Even though she offered for him to leave, she has no idea what she would have done if he had. So she doesn't bother wasting time on hypotheticals, instead she clamps a couple of pins between her teeth and positions herself on top of the platform behind Viktor to get a better look at his waistcoat, "Stay still, just like before." she slurs around the pins in her mouth, quickly working to adjust the seams across the width of his shoulders. He needs a good inch removed before the hemline sits at the appropriate spot on his hips and she is quick to pin both sides evenly.

"Much better." She says quietly to herself, "Would you mind taking your waistcoat off now? Then I can pin your shirt and you'll be free to stand with your cane again."

He doesn't reply, just starts carefully removing the garment, being sure not to poke himself with any of the pins on the sleeves of his shirt. When removed, Viktor hangs the waistcoat on the same stool where his cane is resting and then returns to standing straight.

"You're okay to keep standing a little longer, right?" She ventures cautiously, "You aren't in any pain?"

Viktor scoffs, "I am always in some degree of pain." one of his hands waves through the air in a vague gesture, "Though if it ever becomes noteworthy, I will be sure to inform you."

A hot lick of shame travels up the length of her spine and she can't help wondering why she had even asked such a stupid question. Her mouth begins to form the shape the word sorry-

"I would prefer you did not apologise." Viktor says before she gets the chance, "If you were to apologise for all the things wrong with me we would be here all day."

"Oh." Is all she is able to say. She doesn't much like his assertion that there is something wrong with him, multiple somethings, even, but she can't even begin to formulate a sentence that could properly convey that without making things worse somehow. So she doesn't bother trying, "I won't then."

Viktor nods once, "Good."

She wordlessly begins pinning the excess fabric on his shirt. His shoulders are quite broad, at least proportionally, it's honestly a shame that he has been walking around in such an ill-fitting uniform for so long. She tries not to think about it too much, but even now she can tell that he will look quite captivating in properly tailored garments.

It's only when she steps back down from the platform and returns to his front that she realises how much of a relief it was standing behind him. Viktor's eyes unsettle her with their summer-gold brilliance. His gaze is so sharp and intelligent that it feels like her insides are being slowly unspooled anytime she gains enough confidence to meet it.

"Okay, your shoulders are all done." She says quietly.

Viktor quickly grabs his cane again, settling into what is clearly a more comfortable stance. She doesn't talk much when she works on pinning the sides of his shirt, only once to ask him to put his waistcoat back on so she can pin that too. Then twice to make sure he stays still while she pins up the side of his ribcage. As close as she is standing, she can hear the rasp of his breath in his chest, the way it shudders out from him on each exhale. She really isn't used to tailoring clothes for strangers, her hands shake from the proximity and her heart thunders in her chest when she accidentally brushes her knuckles against the side of his waist.

"Sorry." She mutters before she can stop it.

Viktor sounds tired when he replies, "Please just be careful."

"O-Of course, sorry"

"And stop apologising."

She flinches, "Yes, sorry-"

Viktor says her name, it's the first time he has done it, she half thought he may have forgotten what it was. She pauses in the middle of adjusting his waistline, peering up at him. They are very close to each-other, so close that she can see how well bitten his lips are, notice the length of his eyelashes.

"You are like a frightened little mouse, has anyone ever told you that before?" He asks.

She feels her cheeks flushing, "Y-Yes, though never so kindly."

Viktor hums, she is close enough that she hears the sound rumble through his chest, "Are you nearly finished?"

"Oh! Yes! Nearly!" She quickly returns her hands to task, "Just a pin or two on this side and then I can move onto your trousers."

The quiet returns like a blanket, the silence awkward and heavy. She feels the urge to break it, to talk aloud to herself just to fill the void with something. She doesn't instead she just chews on her lower lip as she finishes adjusting the seams under Viktor's left arm.

"Done?" He asks.

She nods, "Yes, thank you. Would you mind hopping back up onto the platform? Just so I don't have to lay down on the floor to get at your ankles."

Mercifully, that makes Viktor smile, just a little. It's barely a tug at the corners of his mouth, but she drinks it down anyway. He doesn't offer a response, though, just returns to his spot on the platform and watches her intently as she grabs a few more pins and sticks them into her pincushion.

"Your trousers do seem especially loose." Now that his waistcoat sits at the right spot she can see his belt tugged tightly around his hips to keep them from falling down, "Could you take your belt off? I'll start there."

Viktor seems apprehensive at first, but then does as asked. He lays the belt over the seat of the stool he was resting his cane against before. Without the belt, the waistband of the trousers gape almost wide open, many many inches of extra fabric. She tries not to think too much about how slim his hips are, swallowing thickly as she begins to adjust the sides and back of the waistband so it will at least stay up.

Nervously, she starts talking, "Um, technically, the uniform trousers should be worn with braces, not a belt. We should have a couple laying around in the back of the workshop, we have a lot of abandoned accessories." She sucks in a breath as she pins the right side of his trousers tight, the base of her palm brushing against his protruding hipbone, "They probably won't be the right colour, but so long as you don't take off your waistcoat no one will notice."

Viktor scoffs, lifting his right arm to give her more space at his hip, "And what would I owe you?"

She peers up at him, he has his head turned away from her, his jaw tight, "Nothing! I promise! People just leave them behind and don't come back for them, we even have a couple from the theatre department that they don't need anymore." she exhales an uneven breath and starts working to adjust the seams down the side of his thigh, "And I suppose if someone does notice, I can just tell them I lost it, it wouldn't be a big deal."

Viktor doesn't respond for a long time, she makes it all the way down to his knee before he does, "I suppose I will take them, then."

She lets out a relieved sigh, "That's good. I'm glad."

He stays quiet again while she pins down the rest of his leg. She does note that he favours the left one, so she is very careful when manipulating the fabric on his right. He shifts uncomfortably once or twice, but doesn't tell her to stop and he did promise to tell her if his pain was noteworthy, so all she can do is take him at his word and assume that he is fine. When she is at his ankles, she quickly grabs her low stool and places it at the edge of the platform to make the last few pins a bit easier.

She eyes the tight fabric at his calves, now that the seams have been adjusted, chewing on her lower lip when she realises that an idea has struck and there is no way to tell if it is a good one or a bad one. Inserting the last pin at the cuff on his right leg, she inhales a deep breath and forces herself to remember why she is here.

"Do you have trouble getting your trousers on and off?" She blurts before she can regret it.

Viktor glares down at her, "Excuse me?"

She panics, "The ankles of your trousers will be much tighter when I finish the alterations, if you already struggle to get them on and off, it will be far more difficult now and- and I think I have something I can do to help. If that's okay?"

"I agreed to let you tailor my uniform." Viktor says firmly, "Nothing more."

Her pulse rushes, the words just keep coming, "I just want to help, I promise! My father lost an arm in a skirmish seven years ago and I started modifying his clothing for him, first just for appearances and then eventually for convenience, to make it easier for him to undress on his own." She explains, hoping that her reasoning will make more sense to him now, that he will understand that she isn't trying to mock him or pity him.

Viktor scowls, and it is not the reaction she was expecting, "A skirmish." He bites, his posture suddenly looming and sharp all over again, "Your father must be an enforcer, then."

She can hear the sound of her own heart beating in her ears, her throat turns dry as she peers up at him from the floor, trying to meet the roiling gold fury in his eyes. A familiar lie dances on the tip of her tongue, years of practice make it difficult to ignore, but because he isn't from here, because he doesn't offer candy-coated lies, maybe just because he is Viktor, she finds herself for once telling the truth.

"A skirmish with an enforcer." She corrects, and the words feel clunky and uncomfortable in her mouth.

For a beat they just stare at each other, Viktor eyes are suddenly wide and vulnerable, darting frantically across her face as if something in her appearance will make it all make sense. Her hands tremble where they are still gripping the fabric of his trousers and she can almost hear the echo of her heartbeat reverberating through the room. It's a weight off her shoulders, to have told someone, after years of lying and pretending. She isn't sure Viktor understands the significance of it, but she hopes he does.

Viktor's mouth opens and closes a few times, struggling to find his words. Eventually, he says, "Your father, he's…" the words from the undercity go unsaid, but the weight of them still hangs oppressive in there air, she feels like she might choke on them.

"Yes." She answers, averting her eyes, "Y-You can't tell anyone, you know what the people here are like, they'll eat me alive and I'm not-" not brave like you are, she thinks, but that feels far too bold, far too personal, "I just want to finish my studies in peace." Is what she says instead.

~~~

Peering down at her now, Viktor realises that everything begins to make sense. The way she cowers like a mouse as if the world itself is a cat out to get her, the way she desperately tries and fails to fit in, the fact that she dared to speak to him at all, even if it looks like she is preparing to bolt every time she does it.

"Have you even been to Zaun?" He asks, though it is more of a test than a question.

Her brow creases and he expects her to answer what's Zaun? but instead she just says, "No, at least not since I've been old enough to remember."

It was an easy test, but even still, Viktor hadn't really expected her to pass it, "We are not similar at all then, are we?"

She looks thoughtful, for a moment, chewing on her lower lip, "Not in present company, no." she inclines her head to the door, "Out there though, we might as well be neighbours. The line they draw it's-"

"Definitive." He finishes for her, "You are either on one side or the other, Pilties are not big fans of grey area. At least, not when it comes to Zaun."

The expression she offers him next is half a smile, half a wince, "Yeah, they aren't"

Viktor isn't sure how he is supposed to feel about her, part of him rushes upward from somewhere deep in his stomach, desperate to fall to his knees and plead for her to show him something, anything that reminds him of home, to let her shaking hands sink into his chest and hold his heart tightly between them. The other part, the intelligent part, the part he actually has control over, begs him to not break his composure. She isn't like him, not really. Her breath is even and clear, her lungs expand and recede in great, nervous gulps that his own would stutter and rattle the whole way through. Aside from her nervous disposition, unkempt hair and overall mousy appearance, there is nothing that truly others her from the other topsiders. That makes the third part of him, the loudest part, want to bare his teeth, to grab her by the throat and shake her for daring to share his heritage but nothing else, for having working lungs and working legs, for having anything to hide behind.

"Viktor?" She whispers quietly, her brows pinched together in what he can only interpret in concern.

He makes a choice then, a middle ground. Gripping tightly to the handle of his cane, he asks, "What kind of, help were you offering, exactly?"

She brightens just a little, he really only notices it in her eyes, the way they shine.

"I can alter the inseam of your trousers for you, so that you can undo them at the ankle." She jumps from her stool and moves quickly over to her worktable, digging quickly through an open sewing kit, "I have snap fasteners, they're easier to undo than buttons and I can very easily hide them in your inseam, no one would ever see them, but it should make things easier for you."

She steps back over to him, slowly and holds out a small metal tin. Inside Viktor can see a collection of small rings, various pieces that must combine together to make the fastener.

"Show me." Viktor finds himself responding, pushing the tin back towards her, "Where would they go?"

She blinks at him again, a nervous little smile tugging at her lips that makes him feel slightly better, "Y-Yes! Of course!" She crouches down and reaches out with a finger, running it gently up the inside of his right leg, stopping halfway up his calf. His skin prickles at the sensation, even through the fabric of his trousers, "So it would be from the cuff up to here, I'll loosen the seam on the outside of the leg to offer more space on the inside, unpick the inseam and add a series of snap fasteners the whole way up. They just snap shut, and all you should need to do to undo them is tug on either side of the fabric." She grabs the inside of his trousers, tugging quickly twice, "Just like that."

Even loose as they are, it has been a struggle to work his leg in and out the ankles of the trousers. Especially now that the weather has turned cold. He shifts his foot slightly, feeling how tight the tailoring will leave the garment and feels a familiar angry ache building in his gut, picturing himself struggling into his own clothes every morning. He peers down at her again, at her wide, expectant eyes. Her cheeks are flushed, with nerves or with something else, her poorly styled hair coming loose from it's up-do and strands of it are hanging loose around her face. Nothing in her expression is mocking, or pitying, if anything she looks hopeful.

"Would it…take much longer?" He asks.

Her smile is back in full force, the one that makes her mouth seem too big for her face, the achingly bright one, "Not at all! Maybe an extra hour at most."

Viktor darts his eyes to the clock on the wall, he would like to get some studying done today, "If I return before sunset, would it be finished?"

"Yes, yes! Absolutely it would." She lets out a laugh that sounds nearly exhilarated, "Thank you so much for trusting me, it means- well, I guess it means everything."

It might just have been so long since he has seen someone so passionate about what they do, but a smile tugs at the corner of Viktor mouth, unbidden, "Now, now. I never agreed, did I?"

Her mouth snaps shut, eyes widening.

He laughs and puts a stop to her fretting before it starts, "Don't worry, I was just teasing, you have my permission."

She laughs now, loudly, inelegantly. It's only halfway through her fit that she catches herself, hiding her mouth behind a hand, "Sorry. Sorry. I'm just so relieved." she takes a deep breath, holding a hand to her chest to calm down, "Thank you again, I mean it."

Viktor shrugs, "Eh, I did not really do anything."

She snorts then and Viktor finds himself enamoured by it, "You let me do some actual alterations for once, it's important to me at least." Then, as if remembering something, her eyebrows jump, "Oh! just a second." She darts back over to the sewing kit and returns with what Viktor recognises as a seam-ripper, "I'll quickly undo the inseam on your trousers now, that way it will be easier for you to take them off before you leave."

She returns to her stool, shuffling forward so she can more easily get her hands between his legs. Viktor turns his head to the side, finding the proximity easier to deal with if he doesn't have to actually look at her. He's already learned that she talks when she is nervous, so he isn't surprised when she starts speaking again, but oddly, he finds he doesn't mind it much at all.

"I started using the snap fasteners for my father, because they are much easier for him to do up and undo with only one arm. My mother used to help him with his clothes, and she didn't mind doing it, but his independence meant a lot to him and I wanted to help."

Curiosity gets the better of him and Viktor asks, "Did he tell you much about the undercity?"

"A lot, actually." He feels her moving to pick some stitches further up his leg, "I think he misses it, but he hasn't had much of a chance to go back. My mother works and I'm studying here, it just, makes it easier if we don't really talk about it."

Viktor feels himself bristle at that, the angry part of him that is always so loud rears its ugly head again, "Do you have no pride in your heritage?" he spits, and only half regrets it.

She laughs bitterly, inclining her head towards the door again, "Not nearly enough to make it worthwhile facing all of them "

Viktor scoffs, "You're a coward, then."

"I know" She replies quietly, "and you aren't."

Viktor is surprised how much he likes that assertion. He has heard from a few misguided, well meaning topsiders how brave he is for being here, but the meaning is different. How brave he must be, they say, to live the way he has for so long, how fucking brave he is to walk around with a limp and a cane, how hard his life must have been.

That is not what she is saying and he knows it. How brave you are, she says, to put up with all this Piltie, obfuscating, bullshit, day after day. How brave you are to not have already ripped their throats out with your teeth, to not have set this entire building on fire. That is what she thinks he is brave for and that feels good.

"All done." She says softly, unpicking the last stitch, "Just, um, just be careful not to tear it, or poke yourself with any of the pins." she gestures to a section of the room closed off by a curtain, "You can change in there and just leave the uniform with me on the way out."

~~~

She watches silently as Viktor walks to the changing room, grabbing his bag on the way and slinging it over his shoulder. Once he is out of sight, she takes a long, deep breath in through her nose and tries to calm her breathing. This could have gone better, but it could also have gone a lot worse. She sighs, peering shyly at the curtain Viktor is changing behind. One day she will be able to give something back, re-open her father's shop, do something that matters something more than frivolities, more than lace and silk.

Quietly, she starts tidying her leftover pins and returning them to her workbench. Then she removes the canvas cover from her sewing machine, it's much fancier than the one she has at home, not as loud as she works the pedal. She had gotten so used to the way her father's old machine would stick, how it would sometimes catch and tangle on loose threads. This newer thing, she keeps waiting for it to bite her, for it to realise she is different the same way her classmates did so quickly.

Her head snaps at the sound of the curtain being pulled back, and the sight of Viktor emerging in something other than his uniform. Whatever he is wearing clearly wasn't purchased in Piltover, it's mostly brown and green, with a few purple touches here and there. More importantly than any of that, other than the trousers being a few inches too short, it fits him perfectly. Her eyes dart to the narrow dip of his waist, the broad stretch of his shoulders. She had been right, he is captivating.

All she can do is watch as he steps back over to her, holding out the neatly folded pile of his uniform, "Just before sunset, yes?" he clarifies.

She swallows, taking the pile from him, "Y-Yes, that's right. I'll be here."

"Alright." Viktor leans down just a little, enough that his eyes meet hers, "Then I will see you later, Myšičko"

Her heart thunders behind her ribs and she clutches his uniform tightly to her chest, watching as he turns on his heel and heads back out the door, desperate to ask what he had just called her, but too shocked to get the words out.

The door clicks shut behind him and she hopes not just to see him later, but to see him again and again and again.

[veinsfullofstars]

Meet the Families: Gear Dee, Eva, & Treble Dee

You guys might’ve heard me talk about Bow’s extremely cool moms before (and maybe mention her sullen older brother once or twice), and now I finally get to introduce you to them! Check below the cut for more deets and fun facts!

(OC info updated as of 05/28/25.)

Started 04/22/25, finished 05/06/25. | Childhood Friends AU Masterpost

---

Some fun facts about Gear Dee:

-Raised in a certain city off-world, Gear grew up deep in the heart of Air Ride culture, surrounded by roughnecks and gearheads who absolutely adored her and always treated her like one for the family. Her father, a trophy-winning racer, taught her all the tools of the trade - mechanics, vehicle operation, pyrotechnics, etc. - and fostered in her a love of fast starships and thrilling races. (He maaaay have also let her test out the machines before she was old enough to drive one, but the authorities never found out, so who’s to say how true that is?)

-Once she was old enough to enter, Gear quickly made a name for herself in local Air Ride competitions, living mostly for the thrill and the speed rather than victory. Her vehicles of choice tend to be either the Turbo Star and the Formula Star.

-Her first relationship was… a messy one. During her early days running in the city trials, she fell head-over-heels for an awkward but charming Waddle Dee who always showed up for her races, taken in by gifts, pretty words, and - though she didn’t know at the time - empty promises. Her father and friends never approved of him, but Gear has never been one to follow any path but her own, moving in to his grungy apartment partly out of stubbornness and partly upon learning they had a kid on the way. She’d tried her damnedest to make it work, even as their love started to sour, as her career prospects flagged, as his debts and gambling problems became known, as the shouting matches grew more and more frequent. It wasn’t until the birth of their second child that she’d had enough, packing her bags and ignoring his protests and pleas as she left with the kids, moving in with a certain seamstress friend of hers across town.

-Things improved a bit during her stay with Eva. She didn’t have much time for races anymore thanks to the kids but found enough fulfillment in ancillary mechanics work to make up for it. Her friendship with Eva quickly blossomed into something more, the transition near-seamless given how close they’d grown in the years prior. She saw Eva’s meek demeanor open into something bright and personable, the pressure of city life easing off as she found her footing. It warmed Gear’s heart to hear her talk about patterns and textiles and fabric quality with a fervor that only came when she was at her happiest.

-When the phone calls came, Gear blocked his number. When the letters arrived, she tore them up. When he appeared on Eva’s doorstep - teary-eyed with his pockets turned out, offering the same empty apologies and poor excuses as before - she slammed the door in his face. Almost one year since she left, she once again decided she’d had enough and packed up her things for a second time, now with Eva at her side. They said their goodbyes to their families and friends with promises to keep in touch (and to not tell him where they were going) and boarded the next starship out of the city, making their home in a little middle-of-nowhere village on Gear’s birth planet, Popstar.

-It’d taken some time to get used to more rural living, but Gear settled in well enough. Popstar - for all its peace and quiet - is not without its own avenues of entertainment and thrill. And there’s always need for a handywoman around, whether it’s to fix a busted toaster or build a new fence or see what’s wrong with the family warp star (spoiler - it's probably the result of Para's overcurious tinkering). It’s fulfilling, in its own way (plus, with some help from the Poppy Bros. family, she also gets to be in charge of fireworks on holidays, so there’s that). She does miss the city sometimes, though, especially the races. She hopes she can visit again someday… though, not right now.

-Gear isn’t entirely sure what happened between her and Treble. He used to be such a sweet boy before… well, all that. She’s tried to talk with him about it, but he never wants to hear it, either brushing her off or starting another shouting match. It reminds her a lot of herself at that age. Maybe that's why it strains her patience with him to its limit so often. (That, or seeing his father in those blue eyes...)

-Raising Bow was a journey that Gear wasn’t entirely prepared for - nothing in those stupid parenting books about atypical Copy Abilities. If it hadn’t been for Eva’s help, she has no idea how she would’ve managed. Even now, Bow’s still a handful, but she’s also Gear’s little firecracker, a tiny spark of excitement and energy who loves fun and danger just as much as she does. She can’t wait to take her to the city someday - Bow would love the races, she just knows it.

-Gear will never stop talking about how cool her wife is.

Some fun facts about Eva:

-Eva doesn’t talk about her life before the city. Full stop. For all she cares, her life didn’t begin until she hitched a ride on a passing starship and stepped out into the blinding lights of that sprawling metropolis. The city was hardly kind to her in those early years, forcing her to run with some tough crowds and make some tougher choices in order to survive, but she did survive, finding home and friends and purpose in those grimy, noisy streets. Compared to the nest she’d clawed her way out of, it might as well have been paradise.

-While working in a laundromat to pay for her meager apartment, Eva bumped into a very punk-rock Waddle Dee who introduced herself as one of the many Air Ride racers that populate the city. They got to chatting and hit it off right away, becoming fast friends in a handful of weeks. She learned all about Gear and her life in the city, her interests, her goals, the sound of her boisterous laughter. Eva could feel her heart reaching even then and found herself feeling brave enough to share bits of herself, her own experiences - good and bad - carving out a life in the city. She learned of Gear’s kids and the disintegrating state of her relationship, saw the frustration and misery in her warm eyes, and - though trying to remain respectful - did try to act as a voice of reason regarding Gear’s flaky partner, perhaps the one that finally convinced her to leave him.

-Though Gear and her kids moving in came rather suddenly, it proved to be some of the happiest days of Eva’s life (before coming to Popstar, anyway). It was far from easy, but they shared the weight as evenly as they could, supporting each other and talking through what needed talking through. She watched the life return to Gear’s eyes, her drive returning in earnest as she pursued her passions once again (even if they had to be tweaked a bit). It was Gear who took her to get her first piercing. It was Gear who took her to the Garden in the Sky and showed her the stars high above the city. It was Gear who used her connections to help Eva land a job with an esteemed boutique, a dream she’d had since coming to the city. After all that, how could she not fall in love?

-They’d discussed leaving the city long before the calls and letters. Eva might have come there seeking a fresh start, and learned so much in her time living there, but she never quite took to urban life as readily as Gear did, despite her efforts. Gear was understanding… if a bit hesitant, at first. After all, she had a life here already, family and friends and a potential career. Obviously, Eva didn’t want to tear her away from that, only wanted Gear and her kids to be happy, but she couldn’t help but wonder if there might be a better home for them all elsewhere… It was only when Gear’s ex started coming by that the prospect seemed a lot more inviting.

-Within a year of moving in together, they’d found a new home far away from the city, in a quiet little village full of kind folks that took them in readily. Eva quickly found that the countryside suited her much better than the city, enamored with the clean air and vast blue skies unblemished by skyscrapers and smog. She’d been so used to the roar of vehicles and commuters that she’d almost forgotten the sounds of nature, animals and leaves and wind and silence. She’s never felt so… at home than she has here.

-Though she still takes commissions for custom outfits and accessories, Eva has mostly relegated her clothing passions to the comfort of a beloved hobby. She spends most of her time these days working as a community organizer, helping folks like Dedede's mama and Para's dad with holiday setup and event planning for the village (a far cry from the nervous wallflower she'd been during her first year in the city). That said, she’s still the first on call when someone needs fashion advice or a rip repaired, and she’s knitted at least one sweater for almost everyone in the neighborhood. 

-If Gear had been unprepared for a sulky teenager and a hydrokinetic baby, then Eva even less so. She loves Bow and Treble dearly, of course, cares for them as if they were her own children… but, stars, they can be a handful sometimes. It’s so hard to keep up with Bow’s energy, and Treble looks at her like she’s personally responsible for every bad thing in his life… It’s fine, though. If her time in the city has left her with anything, it’s the ability to adapt to whatever life throws at her. She can be patient. She can be strong. She can be a good mother to these kids who deserve the world.

-Eva likes to call Gear her wife despite the fact that they never officially got married.

Some fun facts about Treble Dee:

-Unlike Bow, who was too young to remember her brief time in the city, Treble has no trouble recalling his early childhood. He remembers their tiny apartment, with its faded wallpaper and water damage stains that looked like animals if he squinted. He remembers his dad carrying him on his back out by the wharf, telling him stories and showing him the lighthouse and buying him the best ice cream he’d ever had. He remember his mom coming home smelling like motor oil and letting him play with toy spaceships she brought back from the races. He remembers having friends and going to school and hearing music on the street all the time. He remembers being happy there.

-He remembers his dad being gone a lot, while his mom paced and fumed over the bills on the tiny kitchen table. He remembers hearing them argue a lot through the walls when he was supposed to be asleep. He remembers peering down into the crib with the tiny Waddle Dee inside, feeling crowded despite how small she was.

-Once, his dad bought him a ukulele for his birthday. His mom taught him how to play it, promising to teach him how to play her guitar when he got bigger. He loved that little uke and played it all the time, making up silly little songs that made his dad laugh and tell him he was going to be a star one day. He forgot to pack it up when his mom said they had to leave. He wonders if it’s still there.

-He didn’t like Eva’s apartment. It smelled weird, and the water stains in the ceiling looked like faces laughing at him. He had to share a room with Bow. She cried a lot, so much that she broke one of the pipes in the kitchen. He had a nightmare the first night there, hearing his dad calling out to his mom and begging her to come back. Eva found him crying and tried to hold him until he calmed down. He pulled away. He never got to say goodbye.

-He didn’t cry when they left the city. Just sat with his cheek pressed against the window of the starship, watching the only home he’d ever known fade behind the clouds, and then the stars. He kept his headphones on so he couldn’t hear Bow crying or his mom talking to Eva.

-Treble learned to play bass on his own. Mostly out of spite, if we’re being honest. (Gear’s too proud of him to see it that way, though.) Yes, he’s aware of the irony of being named Treble and playing the bass - stop bringing it up. Also, he's in a band with his friends. Called the Mellow Dees. They're gonna make it big one day, you'll see.

-He wishes his mom didn’t push her interests onto him all the time. Yeah, it’s cool that she taught him how to write music and dye his hair and stuff, but then she wants him to listen to all her weird old-people music or go skateboarding with her and Bow or some other dumb thing he doesn’t care about. Then she gets on his case for staying inside all day and not spending time with people. He is spending time with people, just not her. He has a life, y’know? Friends his own age who actually like the things he likes. He’s not gonna hang out with his parents all the time. That’s so lame.

-He wishes Eva wasn’t so nosy. It doesn’t matter that she’s nice or whatever, she’s such a starsdamn busybody. Always asking what he’s doing and what he’s working on and does he want a snack and ugh, stars, just take a hint already. Does she think he’s still a baby or something? Just leave him alone. He doesn’t want to talk to her. He never wants to talk to her.

-He thinks his baby sister is annoying and wishes she’d stop bothering him when he’d busy doing his own thing. Her friends are just as bad, the little brats. Stars, he hates it here.

-Well… okay, maybe he doesn’t hate it here, living in the village. It’s… fine, he guesses. The weather’s always nice. Food’s good. He even made some new friends who are actually pretty cool. He just… misses the city sometimes, is all. The lights, the music, the tall buildings, the crowds of people, even the smell of the alleyways. He doesn’t miss the races, though. Not even a little bit.

-He does miss his dad sometimes.

[stonesparrow]

One way you can test for a fabric's material makeup is by lighting a piece of it on fire and seeing what happens. Singe, melt, smoke, you get the idea. My favorite fun fact is that burning silk smells like meat! I totally wanna try it someday to experience it firsthand...

Oh yeah my point was headcanon that when they were 11 and still getting to know each other Senku once asked Yuzuriha what some cloth was made of and she said "I'm not too sure, we could cut off a sample and burn it?" and Senku immediately decided textiles were extremely cool and epic actually