#i've molded into my bed and i actually don't like it

[inejghavertz]

ha. ha ha.

[theosbaby]

Brother’s best friend!theodore smut please!! Super soft!dom Theo where he makes LOVE to reader. Perhaps shy!reader as well??

thank you so much for your request! i really loved this idea. i'm sorry that it took me so long to write this, but i've running low of inspiration lately. i hope you like it babe!

𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅ casually thinking about...

brother's bsf!theo taking your virginity

NSFW content ahead, +18

you can't believe you're actually making out with the theodore nott, sprawled on your brother's bed with theo between your spread thighs. his lips are avidly kissing yours, playful tongue delving inside your warm mouth as his hands roam over your gorgeous curves, fingers gripping your sides to tug you as closer to him as possible, not leaving even an inch between your bodies.

and you swear you're on cloud nine.

you're whimpering so prettily into his mouth, your body arching against his while you grasp his dark t-shirt between your slender fingers, the sweet flavor of your chocolate birthday cake still lingering on your plump lips as you return the messy kiss with equal fervour. the act is almost sinful —you're mattheo's little sister, for god's sake. not that he cares about it right now, anyways, not when your body molds itself so perfectly to his, like you were made for each other.

theo groans into the kiss, his hands sliding down to your backside to hoist you up against him. you gasp against his mouth, wrapping your legs around his waist, and you feel him grinding against the junction of your thighs, his own breath hitching as he feels your warmth through his jeans.

your pretty cheeks flush at the intimate contact between your heated bodies, your lips becoming sloppier as you struggle to keep up with him. this is the first time you're actually making out with a guy like this, and you're feeling embarrassed, nervous and excited all at once, which is kinda overwhelming.

he'd notice how your body slightly tenses beneath him. not wanting to make you feel uncomfortable, he slides his hands back to your hips to give them a gentle squeeze, trying to reassure you. he doesn't want to rush you if you're not ready —but oh how bad he wants to fuck you.

the kiss comes to an end, leaving you panting against his swollen lips, agitated. the way you find his deep set, blue eyes looking down at you when you open yours, makes you feel weak on your knees, the blush on your face deepening. he gives you a lopsided smile, his eyes glazed with lust as he brushes your long, soft hair out of your beautiful face.

"you okay, pretty girl ?" he'd ask, his voice husky, just to make sure you're not regretting what's happening. "are you enjoying this?"

the pet name he gives you makes you smile. "yeah," you whisper coyly in response, nodding slightly while your pearly white teeth sink into your bottom lip, which is a bit swollen from all the kissing.

"good," he murmurs against your mouth, "because i'm really enjoying it too." he pauses, his breath warm against your lips. "i was thinking maybe we could... you know... take things a little further?" he leans in and starts kissing your neck softly. "would you like that?

your heart starts hammering in your chest at his words, butterflies fluttering about crazily in your tummy, but you tilt your head to the side to give him better access to your throat despite your nervousness.

"we don't have to do anything you're not comfortable with, okay?" he reassures you softly, his hands squeezing your waist soothingly.

he continues planting gentle kisses on your neck, feeling you relax little by little against him. you let out a sigh, eyelids fluttering shut.

"i wanna do it," you admit, not being able to look into his eyes as you do, blushing, "just... don't tell anyone about this, my brother can't know."

you feel him smirking against your throat as he stops rhe gentle kisses, cupping your face to make you look at him; there's sincerity in his eyes as he says, "i won't, pretty girl."

"pinky promise?"

you'd extend your pinky, waiting for him to intertwine his finger with yours. theo smirks as he tenderly rubs the tip of his nose against your cheek, and he tangles his pinky with yours. "i promise."

he keeps kissing you for a bit more, caressing you over your clothes and whispering sweet nothings into your ear, before he starts undressing you with such care, as if he's afraid of breaking you. and you look so pretty while you're naked beneath him, just like a precious doll.

then, he'd spread your creamy thighs and ask for permission to touch you, eager to get his hands on that gorgeous pussy of yours, which is fucking soaked just for him, your juices dripping down your pink slit and onto mattheo's sheets —that fact has him painfully hard inside his pants. is he a perv? probably.

he's taking his time preparing you, thumb rubbing your puffy clit in tight circles while he plunges his thick, long fingers in your pussy. you're so fucking tight he struggles to push the first one in without hurting you, but after a few minutes, you're taking two of them like a champ, completely soaking his hand in your arousal when you finally cum on it.

theo can't take it anymore, seeing you so flustered and hearing your sweet little moans have him on the verge of bursting in his pants like a bloody teenager, so he withdraws his digits to start taking his clothes off too, and you whine at the loss. but the feeling of emptiness doesn't last long, soon he's pushing his thick cock inside your little cunt.

you're so slick that he slides in pretty easily despite the resistance of your tight walls, his dick stretching you a lot wider than his fingers. and it hurts a bit, but it's a sweet pain that has you whimpering as you beg for more. after a few thrusts, you're cock drunk underneath him, nails digging into his back and leaving scratches that he'll have to hide from your brother for the next few days.

he actually gets you to cum on his dick too, pussy milking him so good that he doesn't even have time to pull out. he spills inside you with a whimper, pounding sloppily into your spasming cunt to ride his orgasm as he stuffs you full of his cum.

more.

[foldingfittedsheets]

okay follow-up ask to the bed thing: pillows?

I like the mattress I have, it molds to my body in a good way and offers good support, but I CANNOT find the right pillow. I use 2 right now depending on if I'm sleeping on my side or back (I have chronic pain and sleep poorly, which causes a lot of reshuffling and switching from side to back to other side over and over). I hate the overly fluffy pillows, but I feel like the foam ones squish down so quickly they only last maybe a couple of months max, and even then it's not ideal.

Any suggestions? I would be so so grateful 🙏

Okay, but you have to take this with a huge massive grain of salt, because pillows are SO personal. Not only that, our bodies get used to shitty pillows and switching to good neck support can suck in a very major way.

My pillow tips are as follows:

For side sleepers, this very quickly googled image is the exact right idea. If you can, test pillows on a bed like your bed at home and have someone check your spine. (I can't actually say if every mattress sales person will be competent at this because most of the ones I worked with didn't care so bring your own person if you can)

The right pillow should fit the gap between your head and your shoulder to keep your spine level. The best ones I've found for this are solid memory foam, and not that money is everything but if it's about $70 that's usually where the good foam starts. Stay away from polyfill and down.

Back and stomach sleepers will typically want a lower pillow than side sleepers.

I personally really love my tempurpedic symphony pillow. The quality has declined over the years but it's the exact shape for me, and each side is a different shape for back or side sleeping. If you sleep warm Technogel makes a freaking amazing cooling pillow in a few heights. It's really spendy but damn it's a cool pillow.

Lastly, if you find a good pillow get a waterproof protector. Also for your bed. Waterproof protectors on all your bed shit! Nice ones breathe well and don't feel plasticy but we are creatures made of water between sweat, drool, accidents, and dust mites for the love of god get a protector on everything.

[slowestlap]

Bradley Scanes, Max's trainer during 2020-2023 seasons, did an interview with The Red Flags Podcast (22 Jan 2024)

I took one for the team and transcribed the bits I found interesting enough to share:

[12:40] Talking about the first times Brad met Max and how important it is that you click together well:

I think it's the most important. We had a good conversation in that time, I think the decision probably set on the fact that, for half of the time I was there, he was out driving the car. But I was there, talking to his dad, talking to his family. And really got on with Red Bull and really kinda fit into that mold and did for my whole 4 years with him and it was so nice. And I appreciate Max for this, his dad for this and the rest of the family because I felt part of the family the entire time which was really really nice and you know, we'll stay friends.

[24:00] From what I saw, I saw a guy that was elite. He knew where he wanted to go. You could see the drive, you could see the work ethic. The work ethic was tremendous. And for me it was just, I've gotta create the optimal space for him to be him and him to do him.

[27:30] Talking about flexibility and adaptability being the traits that separates greats from the rest:

He's on the grid being interviewed by two or three different tv stations, or something's happening with the car, he gets in the car and drives exactly the same no matter what's going on. And that's for me what I've seen from the kinda good to great.

[28:25] Was it hard to train him this year when he was so far ahead?

No, no. If anything he was more motivated this year than any year before.

[34:55] I feel like you have to be elite at falling asleep. Is Max like "allright time to go to bed" and he's like "okay [snores]"? Can kinda turn on turn off?

Yeah, he's really good at that.

[48:50] On staying motivated to win:

The mindset to keep winning is there. We love winning and it's what we get out of bed for, it's what we do our work for. We want to win no matter what it is. We going to Monza, going to Belgium, we wanna win that race. We want to win every single race and if the championship comes in the end the championship comes in the end. That's the mentality he has. […] The first one was motivated by winning the first championship, the second one was motivated by seeing off Ferrari and making sure we got the second (wdc) and that we're here to stay. And then the third one we were motivated by winning every single race and setting every single record that we could.

[1:14:55] Talking about other drivers posting tough work out videos while Max posted a lighter work out:

That's the thing actually, it's a conversation we've had before because we have the markers where we need to get to. How you get there doesn't really matter. We managed to do it in the most time efficient way, in the most enjoyable way for Max and how it doesn't impact on the other stuff as much. […] He doesn't like working out, everybody knows that. But when he's in the session he gets after it. It's just shifting that mindset, he might not want to do it ever again but there's not too much encouragement needed actually in session which is always nice. It's nice to work that way.

[1:16:10] If Max pisses you off what exercise are you doing to punish him? What's his least favorite?

Single-leg squats or planks.

[1:17:35] How long can Max plank for?

Decent amount of time. I don't actually remember but we must have hit like 4-5 minutes in pre-season test and a bit longer come summer break.

[ahgasegotarmy116]

The Art of Etiquette Part 7 | Jeon Jungkook

Summary: Going gown shopping is proving to be a bit more difficult than you had expected and Jungkook doesn't make it any easier Pairing: f!reader x Etiquette instructor Jungkook Word Count: 4.7k~ Warnings: I don't think there's any need for warnings but so much teasinggg a/n: Sorry this too so long to get out 😭 I've lost motivation to write these days so it's been taking a bit longer for me to get chapters out but I hope you guys like it! p.s. kinda sorta edited lol I just wanted to get it out already Start from the beginning

After talking to Jesse last night about everything that happened between Jungkook and I, I've been even more confused than I was to begin with.

"HE KISSED YOU?!?!" Jesse yells into the phone making me cringe as I pull it away to save my hearing but ultimately fail. 

"I don't know, kind of but not really. He leaned in and kissed my cheek but his lips did brush up against the side of my mouth so I don't know. I'm just so confused because at the start I thought he hated me. He was rude and demanding and always tried to intimidate me. I will admit that it worked sometimes but I just never know what he actually wants from me" I complain while switching to my airpods so I can walk around my room and talk to him while looking for an outfit. 

"I think you're over thinking things. I think it all comes down to the fact that he found you challenging at first so that might've been why you thought that he hated you" he explains. 

"Challenging? What's that supposed to mean?" I question, flipping through the clothes in my closet, struggling to find something that's comfortable but not too casual, easy to take off so it makes trying on dresses a bit easier but doesn't make me look like I didn't put in any effort. You would think I was getting dressed for a first date or something based off the existential crisis I seem to be having. 

"He probably thought you were some bratty rich kid that needed a real push to break out of that mold. I bet he's had to deal with a lot of divas in his time. Don't take it personally though, I'm sure that he just goes into those first few lessons with that mindset and then loosens up a bit as you go along. Or at least that's what I would think based off of what you've told me" he explains. 

"You're probably right" I agree while trying to choose between two colors of what sweater to wear. "Pink or Blue?" I question and without hesitation he chooses pink. "What did you end up putting together?" he asks, eager to know what I've settled on. 

"Pink sweater, white skirt with nude colored leggings and some white boots. Oh and I'm pairing it with the white pea coat James got for me last Christmas" I relay, going through the outfit in my head, leaving everything on their hangers so I won't have to worry about too many wrinkles tomorrow.     

"Why are you dressing so...girly? I mean you're a girl obviously but I figured you would go with something a little more...black" he chuckles, thinking about my usual choice in attire. 

"Jungkook would send me back upstairs to change before he would take me somewhere dressed in all black clothing. He wants me to remember to dress like a lady so I might as well go into it right off the bat so I can avoid another scolding. Plus I figured a skirt would be a lot easier to take off and put back on again since I'll be trying on a few dresses" I say while finally getting myself ready for bed.

"Fair enough. If I were you though I would tell him that the only way I'm taking these clothes off is if you take them off of me if he had a problem with your outfit" he teases, making me roll my eyes at him, amused but embarrassed by his nonsense. "Jesse he's my teacher" I point out for the millionth time, hoping to get him to back off but I know it's pointless. 

"As much as you would like me to jump his bones I need to remember the purpose of our relationship. I don't want to cause James any trouble with messing around with him. I could just see the headlines, 'CEO's step daughter sleeps with her etiquette teacher', I do not  want to have to deal with the backlash from my mother either. If something were to happen between us it could ruin his reputation, making people think that he sleeps with all of his students. Plus who knows, he could've slept with his past students based off of how forward he has been with me" I say while throwing myself onto my bed and staring up at the ceiling. 

"He may be an adonis but I don't think he's the type of guy that would do that. Like he's an etiquette teacher girl, if he was to have had a scandal with a student in the past I'm sure it would've come out by now" he reasons with me and I hum in acknowledgement. 

"I guess you're right" I mumble and soon wrap up our call so I can get some 'Proper beauty sleep' according to Jesse but for the life of me I can't sleep a wink. With all of these questions spinning round and round in my head I just can't seem to ease my mind until I'm jolted awake by my alarm. 

'I guess I was able to sleep a bit' I think to myself before jumping into the shower and rushing to get ready. This'll be the first time Jungkook has seen me bright and early in the morning and not run down after a long day at school so I guess it's best if I make a good impression. 

After putting on my lip gloss to complete the look I'm met with my mother barging into my room. "You do know that Mr. Jeon is going to be here soon and oh-!" she nags quickly spewing out her speech before finally taking a look at me. 

"Look at you! I guess you really are my daughter!" she says while walking over to my mirror to stand behind me. "What's that supposed to mean?" I say crossing my arms and giving her an unamused look through the reflection. 

"It means that you look very beautiful and you're showing off your femininity and assets very well" she says referring to the shorter skirt that she hasn't ever seen me wear before. "Very funny mom now can you please leave so I can finish getting ready?" I ask, shooing her away so I can get her out of my hair, literally since she had started running her fingers through it from the back. 

"Okay okay I'm going. Would you like me to let you know when he's pulling up outside?" she asks and I nod my head and at that she's off to no doubt stand and wait for the first glimpse of him by the door. 'She's more obsessed with that man than Jesse is' I mumble to myself and quickly slip on my boots and take another look at myself before I hear my mother yelling for me to come downstairs.

I open my bedroom door and hear that Jungkook is already somehow inside the house and speaking to my mother when I had anticipated for him to just wait for me by his car. "Oh good you're here! Hurry along I heard you have a very long day ahead of you so behave yourself and do exactly as he says" she lists off and I don't bother giving her an answer. 

"Don't worry Mrs. Hart, I know she's a good girl" Jungkook shamelessly responds for me. My eyes bug out and I watch the amused look spread across his face but it's gone in a flash when my mother turns her attention back to him. "Shouldn't we get going? I know how much you hate being late and I'm sure she's waiting for us already" I say in regards to the modiste that we have an appointment with. 

"Oh yes, I'm sorry I'm holding you up. Have a good day both of you and I'll see you later tonight" she says with a smile while opening the door for us. "Oh I don't think it'll take that lo-" "I won't keep her out too late" Jungkook jumps in and I shut my mouth at his response, knowing I really have no say in the matter but also losing my wording when he places his hand on my waist to guide me over to the car. 

Walking over towards it I realize that he's switched from a four seater car to a two seater and I can't help but wonder if his motives were to not give me any other choice but to sit next to him. "I didn't realize you had another car" I say while he opens the door for me and I sit down and almost squeak at the feeling of the seats sinking down a lot lower than expected and he smirks at my reaction. 

"I have a few but I tend to take this one out every once in a while since it does best on longer trips" he informs before shutting the door for me. I nod my head while he walks around the car and gets in a lot more gracefully than I had which makes me roll my eyes and turn my face away from him. 

"Here" he says handing me an iced coffee "Oh thank you but I don't drink coffee, it makes me anxious" I say politely rejecting. "I know, Matthew told me so I got you a chai latte since to his knowledge, tends to be your favorite" he says. I thank him and receive it with both hands, my cheeks showing a dusting of pink at the thought that again he bothered to make sure he got me something that I would like. He even got me an iced one since I like those better even when it's cold outside. 

I take a couple of sips as he pulls out of the driveway and onto the street before taking notice that I had forgotten something. "Mr. Jeon I'm sorry but do you think we could turn back around? I forgot to grab my coat" I admit, cringing at the thought of inconveniencing him and messing up the schedule for today. 

"It's alright, you can just borrow mine" he says with a slight smile, no hint of irritation or condescension. "But I don't want you to be cold I-" "Y/n it's fine, I don't mind. If anything we can get you another coat once we go looking for the shoes to match your dress" he says and relaxes into his seat. 

His left hand on the wheel with his right placed on his lap where I notice that he's spreading his legs a bit further than I've seen him do before, making me gulp at the sight and turn my face away from him. 

"Is that alright with you?" he questions, making me look back over at him. "What?" I ask, not sure if I had lost track of the conversation or not. "Do you feel comfortable borrowing my jacket or should we turn back around?" he questions glancing over at me. 

"Only if you're sure" I say, wanting to give him the option to change his mind. "If I wasn't sure I wouldn't have offered. I'm asking if you're alright with it" he says and I reply simply saying yes but that's not good enough for him.

"Yes what y/n? I thought we had agreed upon using our words" he taunts and my breath hitches at the fist sign of his flirtatious attitude for the day. "Yes Mr. Jeon, I would feel comfortable borrowing your jacket" I say but he presses further. "I thought we had agreed on being more informal with each other as well" he teases and I look over at  him with a confused face as to why it would make a difference for him.

"Say my name" he says darkly causing a fluttering sensation to bloom in my stomach. "I-, what?" I stutter, not expecting this sort of behavior from him this early in the morning. 

"Say. My. Name. Or would you rather us go back to addressing each other formally?" he questions while he stops at a red light and cocks his brow at me. "Yes Jungkook, thank you for letting me borrow your jacket" I say quietly after a pause, my brain not being awake enough to come up with any smart remarks.

He smiles at that and focuses back on the road and offers me the aux to play some music since the drive is so far. "Try not to fall asleep on me again like last time. Wouldn't want to have to clean the drool off your face again" he teases while holding the chord up for me and making our hands touch since he doesn't seem to want to let go right away. 

I bring my hand down to plug my phone in and he lets his follow mine, keeping them connected for a second, letting his warm hand rest on my thigh before bringing it back towards himself and placing it back on his lap. I clear my throat to get my bearings again and quickly plug it in and play some low fi music which gets him to glance over at me again. 

"What? You don't like it?" I question feeling insecure about my choice since I don't really know what his taste in music is. Unless it's just the ballroom music that we've been dancing to for weeks now but I highly doubt that. 

"No, I do. I'm just sure that a playlist like this one would be the exact thing that would put you to sleep" he says with a crooked smile. "Well I just wasn't sure what you would like and so I figured low fi would be a safe choice" I explain and see that he's still smiling.

 "What?" I question and he glances over at me, making me suspicious of him and all of his reactions. "It's just cute that you put thought into choosing something that you thought I might like as well" he says with a lilt in his voice. 

"I just wanted both of us to enjoy the music that's all" I say, crossing my arms over my chest as a defense mechanism to hide the fact that he's made my heart rate pick up with his simple words. "And that's what I found cute about it" he says, rubbing it in since he can clearly see that it's making me shy. 

"You know, you can be quite irritating sometimes right?" I say as a way to defend myself and make him stop teasing me. "Who me? Am I not allowed to compliment a pretty girl for acting cute?" he plays coy and before I'm able to respond he corrects himself. "Excuse me, a beautiful woman from acting kindly towards me" he finishes and I can't seem to come up with any response to it so instead I choose to angle my body away from him and look out the window. 

"You can put on something you like instead. I tend to enjoy all genres of music" he says, reeling in the teasing and giving me a break thankfully. I in spite, choose to go with one of my angsty playlists full of artists like Simple Plan, Blink 182 and Linkin Park, thinking that it would be something he wouldn't enjoy but to my surprise I catch him drumming his thumbs on the steering wheel to the beat. 

As the playlist shuffles through the songs I catch him singing along to the opening of Bring Me to Life by Evanescence and it's then when I turn my body to face him again. "You know this song?" I question, my eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "You didn't think that you were the only one who had their emo phase did you?" he laughs and again I'm given another reason to see him in another light. 

As the song progresses we end up doing the call and response of it, with him settling on the guy's part and myself on the girl's and somehow it all just clicks. It's as if we were just two friends on a roadtrip together and it feels, nice? Right? I don't know but it's as if we'd known each other for our whole lives.

There's a comfortable silence once the song comes to a close and we both glance at each other a few moments later and laugh it off. "You weren't kidding when you said you had an emo phase" I tease and he laughs in response. 

"We promised to be honest with each other have we not?" he chuckles after calming down a bit with me, wiping away the few tears that had fallen in the midst of my laughter. "You're right, we have" I respond and again we settle into a comfortable silence before he asks me a question to keep me talking. 

"Penny for your thoughts?" he questions, glancing over at me before turning his attention back towards the road. "I mean there's not much to tell" I say, not having anything in particular stick out to me but he unsurprisingly presses nonetheless.

"There must be something going on in that pretty little head of yours" he teases I take in a sharp breath, his compliments always catching me off guard. "Why do you always compliment me and tease me like that?" I say quickly without giving my brain a second to stop me. "Tease you like what?" he asks with a huge smile, not expecting me to just come out and say it. 

"Why do you do that Jungkook?" I ask, using his first name to show him I'm serious about this question. "Do you not like it when I compliment you?" he deflects. "Answer the question Jungkook" I reiterate since he doesn't have a care in the world at this point. 

"Because you're beautiful" he admits as if it would have no effect on me. "I-" "What? You expect me to spend this much time with you and not come to notice how beautiful you are?" he asks, looking over at me as we reach a stop light. I sit there without an answer, not knowing whether I should acknowledge his words or just brush them off. 

We had agreed to be less formal with each other but did he think that was a green light to trying to pursue me? I've gotta talk to Jesse about this. 

"Looks like we made it just in time" he states a few minutes later as we pull up to the modiste, seeing that the kind woman that had helped us out before waving at us through the window. 

"You ready?" he asks, scaring me at the sudden concern in his voice. "You're scaring me" I laugh off and watch as he gets out of the car and comes around to open my door for me.

"Let's just say it's going to be a long day" he explains, holding his hand out for me to take and I graciously do. Seeing how low these seats sink down I would probably make a fool out of myself if I were to try and get out on my own. 

Once I stand up I stumble a bit and lose my footing leaving me bracing myself on his chest, my hands pressed firmly against his pectorals but I push off of them once I feel them flex under his incredibly tailored dress shirt and again lose my balance but he pulls me in close by the waist before I can manage to tumble back down into the car. 

"You alright?" he smirks with his hand still firmly against my waist and his hand pressed against the car behind me, placing us in a similar position we had been in just last night. "I'm fine" I say after clearing my throat and placing my hand on top of the one he has on my waist as a way to request for him to let me go. 

"Hey, are we okay?" He asks, tilting his head to meet my downward turned gaze. "Why wouldn't we be?" I question, felling on fire being this close to him. "I just hope I haven't made you feel uncomfortable. I really do think you're beautiful" he says, placing a hand on my cheek and bringing my chin up to face him. 

"Can we talk about this later? She's watching" I ask, nodding toward the dressmaker inside who is clearly enjoying the show. "I don't mind, I just want to make sure that we're okay" he says, deepening his gaze if even possible and I just nod and utter a quick yes before slipping out of his grasp and speed walking to the door. 

He braces both of his hands on the roof on the car I had just been leaning against and lets out a dry chuckle before pushing off and closing the door, catching the last glimpse of me scurrying into the shop. 'Cute' is the only word that comes to mind for him at our whole exchange and my reactions to it all and it would continue to be his reaction throughout the whole day as he watches me try to find the perfect dress. 

~~~~

"Welcome back dearie" she greets me with a knowing smile, not even bothering to pretend she hadn't seen everything that transpired between Jungkook and I. "Good to see you again" I say, meeting her with a shy smile, hoping she won't address the topic, or at least with Jungkook right on my heels. 

"I'm sorry ma'am in all of the excitement from the first time I had been here I never managed to catch your name" I say, scolding myself for forgetting to even ask. "You can call me Genevieve dear. And remember, I said you could lose the formality with me, especially since I would love to have some girl talk with you about Mr. Jeon" she teases with a wink and before I'm able to protest she's already greeting Jungkook right behind me.

"Mr. Jeon how lovely to see you again. I see you've both become better acquainted with each other since the last time you were here" she says, stopping Jungkook in his tracks and leaving me clearing my throat and awkwardly requesting that we get started. 

I glance back at Jungkook and see how the tips of his ears have turned red, not having expected her to come right out with it but it makes me smile nonetheless, seeing once again that I'm not the only one that gets shy in this dynamic we have going. 

~~~~

After trying on dress after dress after dress we can't seem to find the right one. "What about the dress you picked out when we first came here? That one won't work for this event?" I yell to Jungkook from behind the curtain as Genevieve helps me out of what feels like the hundredth dress. 

"It doesn't fit the season nor the occasion. Just try on a few more and if we can't find one we can look through the catalogue and order one and come back for a fitting later on this week" he responds without a care. 

"It'll be a bit of a tight squeeze in terms of time if we were to do it that way though" she warns me as she zips up the next dress and before I can even take ten steps out of the dressing room Jungkook has already disapproved of it.

"You don't like this one?" I question looking down at it, but then after having seen it in a different lighting realize that I hate it too. "You really want to ask me that question again?" he cocks a brow at me. I let out a sigh and my whole demeanor droops as I walk back into the dressing room. 

"Hey" Jungkook says, walking up on me before I'm even able to close the curtain. "Don't scare me like that" I say, placing a hand over my chest as an automatic response. "Why don't we take a break? There's an Indian restaurant down the street from here so we can have lunch and then come back. That sound alright to you?" he asks and chuckles at seeing my face light up at the idea.

"I'll take that as a yes" he says with a smug smile. "Can you help me get out of this? Genevieve had a hard time with the zipper so I think her hands might be getting a little tired of doing this" I ask, turning my back to him and giving a perfectly innocent excuse as to why I'm seeking his help but I can see his amused smile in the small mirror that he doesn't seem to notice that's placed right in front of me.

"Of course Pretty" he smiles and he takes his time dragging the zipper down and his brows shoot up at the realization that I'm not wearing a bra with this dress and once he's finished he runs his finger along my spine, seeing a slight red mark from the constant rub of the zippers of multiple dresses and I see his brows draw together at the realization.

"Let's get you out of here. We can come back another day to continue but I think you've had enough" he says running his finger along the line once more, causing a shiver that I had been trying to hold back to run up my spine but at his concern for the slight marks the dresses had left on my skin he decides to ignore it.

"It's okay, let's go eat and once we're done I'll try on a few more. I feel like the both of us will be able to think a bit straighter on a full stomach. Don't you think?" I ask, turning around to face him with one arm placed over my chest to hold up the dress being the only space between him and my bare skin. 

"If that's what you want" he says, his eyes tracing the slight bit of bare skin he's able to see on my chest and up to my eyes. "I'll just ask her to get a few more dresses ready for us while we're gone" he says and tells me through the curtain minutes later that he'll meet me outside. 

"You're a sly one love" Genevieve says as I come out of the dressing room fully clothed. "What makes you say that?" I question, tilting my head in confusion. "You knew I was coming back in a few seconds but asked him to unzip the dress for you anyway" she says and I widen my eyes, surprised that she has seen that exchange. "Nothing goes on in this shop without me knowing love" she chuckles at my reaction and gives me a little jar of salve. 

"What's this?" I question curiously, turning the jar over in my hands. "Mr. Jeon noticed the red marks the dresses left on your back and got worried so he asked me if I had anything that might with that" she says giving me a quick wink. "Now hurry along love and I'll see you soon" she says ushering me out and watching as I walk up to Jungkook leaning against my side of the car and looking up when he hears me coming. 

"You sure you want to come back today? I can ask her to schedule another day for us to come back" he says, still leaning against the car with his arms now crossed over his chest and observing my form to see any signs of discomfort but the only thing that has me nervous are his wandering eyes.

"I'm fine Jungkook I promise" I say while looking down and pulling on the sleeve on my sweater in an effort to warm up my hands a bit and shield them from the cold. He hooks his finger under my chin and brings my eyes up to him and studies my features before making the decision that I'm still up for the task. 

"Okay" he agrees, caressing my face for a second before using that same hand and places it on my waist and turns to open the car door and helps me in again. He places his coat over my lap, noticing that I'm shivering. I murmur a quick thank you before he closes the door, going around the car to get to the driver's side, waving at Genevieve before getting in the car as well. 

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[thefallennightmare]

Happy Headcannon Monday, Tina! Here’s what has been swirling around in my brain this past week:

Reader is the new guitar tech hired for ERRA’s next tour. Her and Jesse initially get off the wrong foot and generally don’t get along. They eventually end up discovering and bonding over their mutual love of reading. Feelings develop as well, because why not. Maybe they go visit bookstores on their off days or find nice places to read together in what ever place they stay at in between shows. You can make it as sweet or as spicy as you’d like.

(Recently found out Jesse enjoys some of the same authors that I do and I find that to be incredibly attractive. lol)

@thescarlettvvitch @mitchhbitch @burning-outx @missduffsblog @hayleylatour @sleepyomens @loeytuan98 @artificialbreezy @marvelousmal @bngurngheart @lma1986 @dsireland86 @wild-child-7747 @calleyx13 @illmakeyousaywow @jaded-and-hollow-souls @concreteemo @cookiesupplier @thatchickwiththecamera @whenthesummerdies @lookwhatitcost @klutzy-kay24

"I think you're doing it wrong," Jesse's soft voice called over your shoulder.

Your eyes sliced into him and set down one of his guitars. "Alright, Cash. Do it yourself then!"

Pushing past him, you decided to cool off your anger by sitting outside in the back of the venue to read.

You were the guitar tech for Erra for the last six months and while you got along well with the other members, Jesse had to be difficult.

You didn't know why because you were always professional and kept to yourself.

"Don't think too much into it, kid," JT ruffled your hair. "Jesse's been through a lot so he's just reserved."

The only one who knew your feelings for Jesse was JT. He knew how often your gaze lingered on Jesse when he entered a room or how you found yourself nearby of him.

The cool autumn air felt wonderful on your heated skin as you sat on a bench behind the venue. You finished your duties for the day until the actual show started, so you wanted to spend some time to yourself.

Less than an hour later, Jesse stepped outside with his own book in his hand.

Both of your eyes locked but before he could leave, your soft voice called after him.

"You can stay."

It had been constant bickering back and forth between the two of you and frankly, you were tired of it. You just wanted some peace for once so if that meant allowing him to sit next to you, you'd allow it.

Hesitantly, Jesse adjusted his glasses before sitting next to you. His attention wasn't on his book, it was on yours.

My Struggle by Karl Ove Knausgaard.

"That's one of my favorites," his soft voice broke through the silence.

Your gaze lifted to his. "Mine too. I'm on my third read-through."

As if finding a common balance, it was like the tense feelings between you two slipped down through the cracks in the ground at your feet.

From that moment forward, after sound check, you and Jesse would find a quiet part to sit and read together. Sometimes you would read your own books, other times you would listen to him read to you.

On the last day of the tour, the two of you were sitting in his bunk on the tour bus and your legs were across his due to the tight space, as he read softly out loud.

But you couldn't focus on his words.

All you wanted was to finally taste his lips.

"As the wind blew-," Jesse's words were cut off when you finally pressed your mouth to his.

He stilled for a moment before it clicked what was happening and quickly he laid you back on the bed.

Your tongues molded together perfectly as you ran your hand through his luscious curls.

"Sweetheart," he muttered against your mouth. "I've been wanting to kiss you since I first saw you."

You left pepper kisses along his jawline. "I was tired of waiting."

[brookediamonds]

like snow on the beach | dalton lambert x reader

gif is not mine

Summary: You and Dalton are hanging out like you normally do when you find out he has a muse when he creates. Heartbroken it isn't you, you spend the night pondering the last few months and how this will affect your future, possibly without him.

Warnings: None, fluff, angst, mutual pinning, Fem! Reader

Word Count: 2K

Song Inspo: snow on the beach by taylor swift

Dalton Lambert x Fem! Reader

I sat on Dalton's bed reading a new romcom book I picked up earlier as he continued to finish his art project that was due tomorrow.

Music played softly in the background as we dwelled into our hobbies while still enjoying each other's silent presence.

"Done," The artist stood in front of his now finished canvas looking over the assignment. Glancing up from my page, I admire the work he spent the last few days on.

"Wow," I stare at the painting in awe. The colors are bright and fiery the whole thing was eye-catching. "I don't think I've ever seen you use colors like those."

"I normally don't use such loud colors but," he looked over at me a grin breaking out on his face before facing the painting again. "I've been inspired lately."

Part of me is beaming but the other part of me is dying on the inside because who was inspiring the boy I grew to have a crush on?

"Oh," I nod shutting my book closed. Scooting down to the edge of the bed, I watch as Dalton continues to look over his project double checking it was to his liking.

"What's been inspiring you lately?" I gain the courage to ask careful not to use 'who.'

"A girl," he answers nonchalantly, his back still facing me.

I felt my heart drop to the pit of my stomach. The last few months replayed in my mind, the longing stares, playful banters, late night study sessions, Sunday sundae's in the student lounge, had it all been in my head?

Were we just two friends hanging out to him?

"Lucky her," I breathe out. Before he can say anything else, I slip on my grey slippers and begin to stand up.

"I just remembered I need to turn this assignment in for English, it's due at midnight," I stammer out.

"Do you wanna use my laptop?" Dalton asks motioning over to the computer on his desk.

"N-No!" I reassure him quickly. "I have it saved it specifically in a folder on my laptop."

"Oh, okay, are you gonna come back so we can watch 'Suits?" He grins referring to our usual hangout routine. Last month we binged Better Call Saul, this month it's Suits.

I stood by his door with my hand on the handle ready to flee.

"Actually I feel a migraine coming on," I pretend to wince, pressing my palm to my forehead. "So I'm just gonna head to bed after I submit my paper."

"Do you want me to get you some ice and bring it to your room?" The boy frowns taking a step closer to me knowing my go to remedy was an ice pack.

"No, I just want to be in a dark room," I say quietly avoiding his gaze. To cry my heart out.

"Okay, well text or call me if you need something alright?" He reassures me. "Just down the hall."

Which was true, he was four dorms down the hall from me

I nod ready to walk when he suddenly took ahold of my wrist spinning me around to pull me into his chest. We never leave each other without a hug.

This was the hardest part, being in his warm embrace. It was strong and comforting, the way I can hear his heartbeat against his chest, how perfectly my body molds into his.

All of me is screaming to get away and run before you break down right here but the way he sway from side to side with his cheek pressed to the top of my head, I stay taking in this moment that could be the last.

"Is this helping?" Dalton whispers unaware of his words.

"I wish," I mumbled. It's making it worse.

Pushing him away, I turn away opening the door rather quickly, and walking out prepared to spend the rest of my night sulking in my bed.

-

Waking up the next morning I feel the pounding in my head erupt due to the amount of crying I did last night.

It didn't help that I watched 'P.S. I Love You' but sometimes you just need that extra push to get out that good cry.

"Here," my roommate Izzy holds out two pills of Tylenol for me with a bottle of water.

"How'd you know?" I mumble, half my face still in my pillow.

"The trash is filled with tissues and it smells like popcorn in here," she teases me. I grab the pills from her hand, sitting up in my spot to take the medicine.

"I thought you were staying at Jaime's," I recall her saying she was supposed to spend the night at her girlfriend's room since her roommate was gone for the weekend.

"I did, I forgot my insulin," she walks over to her mini fridge to grab her small bag of her prescription. "Why were you crying last night?"

Swallowing down the two pills, I wiped my mouth to prevent the excess water from dripping down my chin.

"Sad movie," I respond lamely, laying back against my pillows.

Izzy stood up from her place, watching me with careful eyes.

"You only watch a sad movie when you're already sad," she points out. Damn, she knew that? "What happened?"

I sighed scooting further down into my bed, not wanting to bring up last night events. I was being dramatic, I shouldn't be this emotional over someone.

Dalton didn't mean to intentionally hurt my feelings, so how could I be upset?

"I got my hopes up, like always," I responded crossing my arms over my chest.

"With Dalton?" She asked raising her eyebrows. I told her about the liking I had taken on the boy the second I got back from hanging out with him and Chris. "Did you tell him?"

"Not really," I mumble avoiding eye contact with her.

She places a hand on her hip giving me a knowing stare that I wanted to avoid.

"How can you get your hopes up if you haven't even told him how you feel?" Izzy states bluntly making me cringe.

"Its what he said last night," I sighed. "He painted a really beautiful picture of a garden with the sun, with all these bright and pretty colors."

Izzy walked over to my bed waiting for me to continue.

"Dalton doesn't use too much color when he creates, so when I asked why this time around, he said it's because someone inspired him," I explain reliving last night's events.

"So? That someone could've been anybody-"

"He said it was a girl," I say lowly looking to my right at the wall in front of me. Since becoming friends with Dalton, he's gifted me all sorts of drawings.

My favorite flower, peony, a portrait of Louis Armstrong because that's my favorite artist to listen to when I'm reading, and my personal favorite, a painting of me reading my favorite book.

"Was he looking at you when he said that?" My roommate asked a frown forming on her lips. I began to feel that heaviness on my chest again, this time I didn't need a movie help get out this cry.

"Nope," I confirmed for her, my eyes swelling with tears. "I left after that."

Before Izzy could respond, there's a knock at our door causing me to panic.

"I don't want to see anyone right now," I begged my friend. "Send whoever it is away."

Wiping away my stray tears, Izzy creaks the door open before looking over at me with a sheepish smile.

"I think you'll want to see this person," she says opening the door wider to reveal the boy I wanted to avoid.

"I brought you your favorites," Dalton gives me a small smile as he holds up an iced vanilla cold brew in one hand and a small bag in the other which I'm sure was the breakfast sandwich I always got at Starbucks.

Dalton used to give me a hard time about my Starbucks intake but after forcing him to try my favorites he understood why I was so broke all the time.

"Call me," Izzy mouthes to me before walking out of the room, shutting the door behind her.

Dalton saunters over to me, handing me my items as I sit there dumbfounded at what my roommate just did.

"You feeling better this morning?" He asks taking a seat at my feet. "Was hoping the coffee would help."

"Yeah, I'm still not all there," I sniffle avoiding his gaze as I stir the sweet cream at the bottom to blend in with the cold brew.

"Sounds like you might have a cold," he reaches his hand out to press the back of it to my forehead then my cheeks. "Maybe we should-"

"Dalton," I cut him off removing his hand away from my face. "I'm not sick."

There's a pang of guilt in me when I see the look of hurt come across the boys face. He was just trying to help and I was being bitter.

"You can't help with this," I assure him quietly taking a sip of the drink in my hand. So good.

"Try me," the blonde pushes. I sigh looking him dead in the eye.

"I really like you, Dalton," I finally let out. "I like you like I'll let you have the last bite of this sandwich like you, I like you like I think of you in every love song Taylor Swift has ever wrote like you, I like you like I want to call you after any little exciting thing happens to me like you."

"I like you so much, and you told me another girl is inspiring you," I look down at my hands that were slowly growing cold due to the melting beverage in my hand.

Dalton falls silent for a moment making me sick to my stomach. I poured my truth out, that's all I can do. I probably just ruined everything. No more Friday show binging, no more Tuesday study sessions with Chris, no more of him picking off my food in the mornings.

It's all over.

"You didn't look at my painting very well," he finally breaks the silence. Looking up at him, I furrow my brows.

"What?"

"You are the girl," the corners of his mouth quip up. "You've been my inspiration since the first day Chris introduced us."

My breath hitches in my throat as I take a deep breath.

"I've been drawing peonies since I saw them on your phone case," he admits reaching out to tap the back of my phone.

I think back to the painting from last night and immediately recall the colors of different pinks splattered across the canvas below the bright orangey sun.

"Peonies are playful, beautiful, lively, and bashful, just like you," he says gently running his thumb over the top of my cheek. "Incase it isn't obvious already, I really like you too, (Y/n)."

Relief washes over me, a giddy feeling running through my veins instead.

"You think I'm beautiful?" I tease him tilting my head to the side. Dalton shakes his head biting back a grin.

"Playful," he refers back to the flower's characteristics.

He lays his palm flat against the side of my face making me lean into his touch.

"Can I kiss you?" He asks staring at me with adoration.

"Never ask again," I confirm for him before pressing locking my lips with his. I snake my free hand around the back of his neck pulling him closer to my body.

My heart sputters in my chest, as our mouths become familiar with one another's. His mouth still tasted minty from bushing his teeth not too long ago, while I'm sure mine tasted of coffee.

We pull away slowly, the tips of our noses still touching.

"You are so beautiful," he whispers confirming my question from earlier.

A warmth splays across my cheeks at his compliment, I smile widely leaning my forehead against his.

"I suddenly feel so much better," I quip up placing my arms over Dalton's shoulders.

"Good," he murmurs pressing a soft kiss to my forehead moving his hands to grasp my hips. "Because I'm taking you out for lunch."

"Why not dinner?" I chuckle at the unusual date time.

"Because we're doing what we should've done last night, tonight," he explains. "We are watching 'Suits' and eating candy as soon as we get back."

"Oh," I laugh realizing his plan.

"Does that sound good to you?" He asks bumping his head with mine.

"Sounds perfect."

[queenofpurgatoryq]

@elysiankitty said: I've always wanted someone to write what might've happened if it had been Asi who found Alaz that first night, with no Ruya or Yaman. I thought about doing it myself, but I'm not much of a writer.

thank you for this idea!!

feel free to send me head canons/requests/anything aslaz related

.

It was one of these nights where Asi simply needed to be out in the open.

It was strange considering she had spent a considerable time in her life dreaming of a roof over their heads to keep them secure, a warm bed and a door for a privacy. She had it now and she was content with her squeky bed and a room that smelled a little of mold and humidity yet some nights she just wished to breathe out in the open.

Maybe you could never get rid of the street kid you had inside of yourself, she had to wait and see.

Yaman was working that night and Cesur was having an early night in. Asi was feeling restless. She went out in her pijamas which were her old joggers and a band t-shirt Yaman had bought years ago, with her leather jacket on top. She was feeling chilly but the cold was a welcalmed addition to calm her mind in this restless night.

Her thoughts (that were all over the place to begin with) were interrupted with a loud engine sound and a distant club music blasting from the speakers.

She rolled her eyes at the audacity, at this hour of the night and at this neighbourhood it had guts to drive around like that.

She turned around to see the car and was blinded by the headlight and well, the car was moving towards her too fast and she barely threw herself of road.

The car stopped with tires screaming with the force of it, the music was still blasting as she heard someone getting out of the car.

She groaned a little as she rolled on to her back, her arm was hurting a little.

"Hey, sorry I didn-"

"Are you fucking crazy?" She yelled as she sat up, she was fuming. "You entiled rich bastard, almost fucking killed me!"

She got up and tried to get rid of the dust on herself.

"Well, you were the one on the road," the guy muttered which made Asi even angrier. She looked up with a frown on her face.

"DOES THAT MEAN YOU CAN KILL ME, YOU FUCKING IDIOT?"

She moved forward and the guy took a step back with his hands above the air in surrender. His hair was ruffled and he was swaying a little bit, barely standing still. "Wow, easy there girl. You are the one with a possible murder charge here, with that murderous look in your eyes."

The guy laughed, he looked young and hadsome when he did. With that Asi punched him across the face.

"FUCK!" The guy yelled as he stepped back and fall down on his back like a rag doll. Asi could smell the booze off of him now, could see his white shirt clining on to his chest with sweat. She stared at him as he laid down with an arm drapped over his eyes, and his face squmished with pain.

Of course the rich asshole was drunk or high or both, and she had knocked him down.

Asi started to feel a little anxious, she did not want an actual murder charge on her hands on a random Friday. She moved closer and nudged him with her shoe, she could see his chest raising and falling which was a relief but there was no response. "Hey, asshole. Wake up," she said.

Oh god, was he brain dead or something?

She crouched next to him, his lip was bleeding from her punch and in her opinion it was well deserved. Such a pity that the bastard had a pretty face and she had to mess it up a litile.

"Come on, wake up," she said again. The music was blasting and the car screaming a techno song still and Asi felt like throwing up. "Hey! Are you ok-"

As she grabbed him by his shoulders and shook a little, he grabbed her by the wrist and smiled. "I think you deserved this scare," he opened his eyes with a mischievous glint in them. Asi yanked her hand and sat down as she stumbled back.

"You are such an asshole. Goodbye," she spat out as she got up.

The guy chuckled, and then subsequently started coughing in pain. "Don't go! My head hurts, you broke me, you fix me," he demanded but it felt childlike instead of commanding to Asi. He tried to sit up on the pavement and groanad in pain a little. He touched the back of his head and there was a little blood on her finger tips.

Great, fucking great.

"The weather is so nice. Should we go dancing?" He barely got up on his feet swaying from side to side and Asi had to hold him by the shoulder to prevent him from falling again.

"You are about to die you idiot, you might have concussion! Stay still," she said.

"But its so hot! I wanna swim."

Asi groaned as the guy ckumsily tried to unbutton his shirt, while she struglled to keep him still. He managed to get one open, she could see a silver chain dangling on his neck, some chest hair and smooth looking skin.

"You're gonna freeze, stop it!" She hissed ande grabbed him by his wrist. His hands were beautiful, fingers long and lean, decorated by several stylish rings.

The guy finally stopped moving and stared at her as if it was the first time. He was breathing heavy with his lips slightly parted, they were standing close now. His pupils were dialeted and eyes were unfocused but Asi could feel he was coming down off of what ever was running in his blood stream.

"You are so fucking pretty," he stated, there were no hint of any game, just observation.

Just when Asi was about to push him away the guy grimaced dropping his head on her shoulder. Their hands were trapped between thier chests and Asi heard a low groan. "I think I'm gonna puke."

Asi pushed him just in time and let him hold her arms as he moved forward and threw up on the ground.

"Its Alaz by the way," he said after coughing for almost a minute.

It was gonna be a long night.

.

bayramınız kutlu olsun 💕 eid mubarak to ones who are celebrating. i wish everyone a good time with your loved ones

[smute]

inspired by my tags ⬆️ on this poast:

LAUNDRY STRIPPING

basickly laundry stripping is an old (ish) tiktok trend that for some reason has started appearing on my dashboard recently.

it involves soaking your clean laundry in a bathtub with hot water and a solution of borax, baking soda, and detergent, and the idea is to "deep-clean" your clothes removing detergent, fabric softener residue, body oils that have collected on your clothes over time, and other grime. the viral videos all show tubs full of opaque brownish gray water.

HOWEVER! the implicit (or sometimes explicit) message that "your washing machine isn't actually cleaning your clothes 🙀🙀🙀" or more bluntly, "your clean clothes are actually FILTHY!😵" borders on fear-mongering imo which is the part that really pisses me off. i've seen people blame everything from big detergent to fast fashion, and many people seem to swear by laundry stripping as a necessary practice, so i am here to debunk it. i am the debunker.

now i am become debunker, the debunker of bullshit.

✂️hyperfocus kicked in so the rest is under the cut✂️

TL;DR:

laundry stripping can technically help, but it only addresses a symptom rather than the cause of the problem. generally speaking, it is unnecessary if you wash your laundry correctly.

but many people don't.

so let's review:

I. AVOID UNNECESSARY ADDITIVES

softeners (including dryer sheets) and perfume (those scented pearls of waxy stuff) fuck with the properties of textiles (both natural and synthetic) and they can build up on the fibers. THAT IS NOT NECESSARILY AN ISSUE, in fact, it's what they're designed to do, but over time it can make fabrics feel less fluffy, it stops cotton from absorbing moisture (especially bad for bedding/towels), and it messes with functional fabrics (active wear etc).

if you really really want to use fabric softener, try limiting yourself to shirts and stuff. dont use it for underwear, and definitely dont use it for bedding and towels. also, try using less of it/don't use it for every load.

II. AVOID OVERDOSING

if you use too much laundry detergent, there's a chance that some of it will be left behind on your clothes even after the final rinse cycle. it can also make your clothes feel sticky and irritate your skin. more importantly though, IT WILL BUILD UP IN YOUR MACHINE, which not only damages seals and gaskets and wears out the motor, it also encourages the growth of bacteria and mold.

this is an easy fix though. apart from the fact that washing machines, like all appliances, need to be cleaned regularly, you can easily tell if you're overdosing by looking at and feeling your laundry at the end of a cycle. if there are any suds left or if the fabric feels slippery, put it through another rinse cycle and try using a little less detergent next time.

III. KNOW HOW TO CHOOSE THE CORRECT CYCLE AND TEMPERATURE

your washing machine has multiple settings for a reason. DON'T use the same one for everything all the time and DO NOT BE AFRAID OF THE HOT WATER SETTING. please please PLEASE wash your towels and bedding at higher temperatures.

okay, so afaik many american washing machines use lower temps because they depend on an external hot water source. according to google, the "hot water" setting on american washers can mean anything over 130°F (55°C), which is the minimum temp i would recommend for bedding and towels. (obviously mind the instructions on the tags, but tbh if a cotton pillowcase or towel can't be washed at hot temps, dont even buy it).

european washers usually have a built-in water heater and allow you to select a specific temperature, including a 95°C (203°F) cycle. USE THAT. i know, i know, every detergent brand has jumped on the climate change marketing bandwagon and tells you to conserve energy because their super duper laundry sauce can remove stains at ice cold temperatures, but that's exactly the problem. as a rule: the higher your water temperature, the less you depend on aggressive additives to clean your laundry. and if you have a washer that can do 95°C/203°F, it's probably a front loader and quite energy efficient to begin with.

like i said, 60°C/140°F is the minimum i would recommend for bedding/towels as well as for washcloths, cleaning rags, dish towels, etc. but do try to make use of the 95°C/203°F cycle occasionally. 60°C/140°F is also good for underwear and things that are actually dirty.

the 40°C/104°F cycle is totally fine for most other things, and if you're washing delicates or things that are just "worn" rather than dirty/sweaty/stained you can definitely do 30°C (86°F). google says this would be the "warm water" setting on american washers (=generally between 90°F/32°C and 110°F/43°C).

and tbh if it's your jam, feel free to do 20°C/68°F (="cold water") for those things. BUT NOT FOR BEDDING AND TOWELS

IV. SO WHAT ABOUT LAUNDRY STRIPPING?

you can do whatever you want forever. if your clothes feel sticky and not clean and you think you may have been overdosing your detergent or if you use a lot of fancy additives because you like mixing colorful things and miss making potions on the playground (no judgement btw) go ahead and try it.

one thing i want to say though is that in 90% of the videos i've seen about laundry stripping, the murky brown water is literally just DYE. 🥴 scorching hot water alone is more than enough to make textiles bleed color.

borax is also an irritant and laundry soaked in such a concoction is not something i would handle with my bare hands (if borax was legal in germany lol). hell, most detergents can irritate your skin, so if you decide to strip your laundry with this method, please use gloves.

V. A BETTER ALTERNATIVE

this is based on personal experience btw, im not just talking out of my ass. if you've been using a lot of additives and your clothes don't feel clean or smell weird even when they're freshly washed, try the following troubleshooting steps:

CLEAN YOUR WASHING MACHINE

DO NOT USE BLEACH AND VINEGAR! oddly enough, this seems to be the number one recommendation on many websites, but mixing bleach and vinegar creates POISONOUS CHLORINE GAS! 😐 both things can also potentially damage rubber seals/gaskets. instead, try the following:

start by manually cleaning the parts of your washing machine that are accessible from the outside. remove the detergent drawer/dispenser compartment, take it apart, and clean it with warm water. use a bit of dish soap and a sponge or an old tooth brush to get rid of stuck-on gunk.

wipe down the rubber gasket around the lid/door. this is just to remove any gunk or lint stuck in there so water should be enough, but you can use a bit of dish soap if you like

find the filter on your machine, take it out, clean it with a paper towel, and rinse it off

finally, run an empty cycle at the highest temp but add one or two tablespoons of natron/baking soda instead of laundry detergent

repeat as needed

REMOVE FABRIC SOFTENER RESIDUE FROM YOUR CLOTHES

tbh i hesitate to call it "residue" because coating the fibers of your clothes is literally the whole point of fabric softeners, but that's exactly why they can be problematic.

most fabric softeners are hydrophobic, so water alone won't do anything. instead, try soaking your clothes in lukewarm water with dish soap, which also works great for removing fabric softener stains, or simply put them through a cycle with dish soap instead of detergent. (please don't use too much though because it can produce a lot of foam🫧)

AVOID COMMON MISTAKES

try to remember the basic tips from above going forward:

avoid unnecessary additives (fabric softener, dryer sheets [the same thing basically], and laundry perfume)

less is more. don't use too much detergent. pods are gimmicky and fun and very convenient, but they don't give you much control over the amount. for liquid detergent and washing powder, stick to the instructions. also, detergent pods are a major source of microplastics.

choose the right cycle and water temperature.

VI. SECRET BONUS TIPS

not directly related to laundry stripping but useful to keep in mind:

don't overstuff your washing machine, and if you do half a load/a smaller load, adjust the amount of detergent accordingly.

if you use a tumble dryer, CLEAN THE FILTER AND LINT TRAP AFTER EVERY SINGLE LOAD FOR GOD'S SAKE. not only is it kind of desgostang to let all that hair and lint accumulate, it's also a fire risk 🔥 additionally, clean the internal filter as well as the vent hose regularly, and check for lint in the less accessible areas and behind/underneath the dryer.

don't leave zippers unzipped, but DO leave buttons unbuttoned.

this one is hard, i know, but try not to leave wet laundry in the machine for hours and hours. set a timer. not only will your clothes be wrinkly, they will also develop a funny smell very (and i mean very) quickly. if a load has been in there overnight, it probably needs to be washed again.

additionally, leave the lid/door open after a cycle to allow moisture to escape and to prevent mildew in your washing machine

finally, and i know this is gonna be controversial, but SORT YOUR LAUNDRY! 😭 it's the one necessary step that allows you to use the appropriate cycle/water temperature for different loads. color bleeding is not the only concern here, and you absolutely do not have to wash all colors separately, but separating whites from darks WILL preserve their color without the need for bleaching/lightening agents. general rule: separate whites from darks and bright colors. separate delicate fabrics from heavy denim. group things by cycle/temp. combine things like bedding and towels, or underwear and sweaty/stained clothes, and group semi-clean stuff that only needs a cold wash. i swear it's not as complicated as it sounds.

ok rant over 💕

sources: personal experience, my mom, research and critical thinking skills

[imaginethezeldaverse]

Ahhh the pregnant reader x Yunobo was so cute! If you can could you do a Revali version as well?

Sure thing! He'd be so sweet to his pregnant s/o too, oh gosh.

---

No matter how much you rearranged your home, it never felt as comfortable the next day. The pillows suddenly weren't situated the right way. The plants didn't look as marvelous in the last spot you had them. There was always something that felt off to you, and seeing as how you were due in a few months, you really were starting to get stir crazy. As you settled some of your beloved trinkets on a different shelf than yesterday, you missed the emerald stare from the entryway.

"You're going to drive yourself to the brink of insanity if you keep shuffling about like this," rang a dulcet timbre from just behind you. Though his words sounded as though they were meant to scold you, they were said with genuine care. Soft feathers caressed the roundness of your stomach; plumage colored in berry and cream hues gently molding to tummy. You tilted your head backwards, sheepish smile meeting his endearing one. Revali gave you a knowing look, "Were you not told you should be resting?"

Your lips pursed playfully as you shifted your gaze away from his,

"Yeeees but," the sigh you let out was lengthy, "I just can't...sit still, you know? I get organized one day, but then come the next, everything feels...just slightly out of place."

Revali chuckles a bit, and you pout further. Both of his wings come around your frame. The warmth of him around you, holding you like this brings you comfort - settles that unfamiliar energy inside of you that's been plaguing you the last few weeks.

"You're nesting, dove," he begins quietly, "Not uncommon for my race or yours."

Humming in understanding, it makes total sense to you. Your space was soon welcoming another life. Without even realizing it, you were subconsciously preparing a comfortable environment for you to take care of your baby. You only wished your mind would actually let you rest!

"It's exhausting, I'll admit," you say, your own hands now coming to your belly. Suddenly, you are lifted up, Revali's long feathered fingers carrying you over to your bed. He laid you down with careful ease, leaving just enough room for him to nestle in beside you, "That's exactly why you should be resting".

His beak tilted downward, sharp eyes holding yours, "Or do I need to remind you that we're expecting?"

With a roll of your eyes and a shake of your head you quickly shot out a "No, no, no" before shimmying yourself further into the bed for more comfort. Revali's wing cradled the back of your head, drawing you close enough for his beak to lovingly peck a kiss to your forehead. His expression shifted into a pleased one,

"If it's any consolation - our home looks nothing less than perfect."

This lit you up, "Does it? I know I've been fussing about it every day, it just never feels like I'm making it look nice enough, and I-"

A plumed finger touches your lips.

"It's because you arranged it that way...that it looks perfect."

Your heart swells at his words, though you take the opportunity to playfully say, "And I know you'd know a thing or two about perfection, wouldn't you, Revali?"

His eyes don't leave yours. The upturn of his beak is genuine, heartwarming. The finger that stopped at your lips now travels to tuck a lock of your hair behind your ear.

"I think it goes without saying that I have an eye for it."

[fakesimp]

hear me out on ver x gn!reader baking together

reader has at most watched one minute of five youtube videos on how to cook, and ver’s baked for years

im sorry if this req isnt v interesting its like 3:32 am when im sending this and i pulled this idea out of my ass

Baking, With Ver Vermillion

Warning !

Fluff ; Slight Crack ; Established Relationship

A/n !

Why are you awake at such hour.

➶◜◝➴

"Ver! Let's try baking today"

"... That's so random of you, I thought you're just gonna lay in bed reading like usual"

"Hey, don't call me out like that. I want to try something new"

"Hm~ okay okay, let's try baking"

. . .

That's how it started, but then you realize you've never got an experience with baking before, or perhaps you did but not really doing that much.

And now that you're in this situation, where you and your Beloved Kaichou, baking together.

He had way more experience than you, the way he moved around the kitchen to find what things you need to make this certain cake you wanted.

"Okay so, ..Jagiya, Do you know how to bake" He rolled up his sleeves and put on an apron on him, then on you. "No..." You can hear him stifling his laughter behind you as he tie your apron, "H, Hey! Don't laugh at me," You scolded him. Earning a small apology from him, though he's chuckling as he did.

"How about you?" You asked as you look at the preparation in front of you, a bowl, a whisk, ..other basic baking stuff that you need is displayed in front of you and him.

"I've learned about how to bake years ago, since, you know. I'm a sweet tooth, and I prefer not to spend money on them. So.." He looked over at you smiling, "So you decided to learn how to make them yourself" He smiled wider and nod his head, "Yes that's correct" he said as he now grabbing a scissor to open up some ingredients.

"Okay then-" You took a deep breath, "Teach me."

. . .

It's only been 10 minutes in, you, learning how to bake not only from Ver, but also watching videos about them.

You, kinda doubt yourself if you could get a hang of it, but Ver reassured you that it'll go well, he'll help you.

And so it began, you both started mixing the ingredients, as you whisk them, Ver went to grab the tray.

After you're done, you helped Ver pouring the dough on the cake mold. As you wait for the cake, you both decided to make icing for the cake, after you're done making the icing, you tried to grab a taste.

Ver beat you to it, before you could put your finger in your mouth, he grabbed your wrist and licked the icing off your fingers.

"Tasty~" He said and let your wrist off, pretending like he did nothing at all, "Y, You-!" You glared at him as he smiled teasingly at you. "Me?" He repeated, You smacked his arm, making him laugh as he brush his hand on your reddened cheek.

"You're so unfair." You pouted, but then laughed along with him.

. . .

After who knows how long, both of you finished making the cake along with applying the icing. You stared at the cake in front of you, nothing too much but it looks simple and it actually taste good.

You shared a plate with Ver, eating the cake together, satisfied with the result.

"Maybe we should do this more often" You said as you glance at the cake and then looking back at Ver, "I don't mind, it's fun to do it together"

You smiled at him, "Okay then, next time, we'll try to cook some food then"

"Can't wait"

©fakesimp . 2023

A/n !

I hope you like this anon ! Even though you just pulled that idea out of your ass, I still manage to write a fic about it.

Anywho, thank you for requesting !

( 7/10 )

[minniiaa]

I AM FROTHING AT THE BARS OF MY ENCLOSURE!!!!11!!!!1!!!!!! YOU GOT ME BARKING

First of all, thank you ^-^ <333

You've not only satisfied my simp heart with bottom Law but also my yearn for and emotionally constipated Law being proven wrong

Second, I have more ideas or course :D

This is a gigantic leap from my previous… contributions, but I want to share my love for something I enjoy just as much as my little guys (grown ass men) getting railed in such a way it puts the trolley problem to shame. Sweet, sweet aftercare, I dunno what about it that enthralls me but just- like- I- jsbdudbskospaks-

It's an honest 50/50 whether the aftercare situations I think up actually comes after sex or if it's all I think of. It has me by the throat man.

Something about Law feeling safe enough to tell Luffy when he's had enough without feeling the need to force or threaten Luffy, or not holding out far past his limit so Luffy doesn't “get bored of him” makes my brain melt and mold back into the shape of a sea urchin.

OH, MORE THOUGHTS!!! >:0

Here me out, modern au, Law comes back to their apartment more tired than he's ever been after the longest shift he's pulled in a while. All he wants, more than anything, is their bed, screw the shower, he couldn't stand long enough to take one and he knows the moment his knee bends further than what's needed to walk his body will collapse. So he heads straight to bed, unsurprisingly, Luffy is awake and anticipating Law's return to give him his “goodnight kiss” that became the only constant thing Luffy upholds. Law tosses himself into bed as soon as he gets his pants off, leaving them on the floor along with his shirt, and Luffy is immediately on him. Not to Law's dismay, he knows he won't last long but the fact that Luffy still wants him when he's coated in sweat and deadweight kind of turns him on. He's right, he doesn't last when Luffy eats him out while running only the pad of his thumb up and down the base of Law's shaft, and GOD does everything *hurt. Law doesn't get that post-nut daze, instead he's hit with an ache deep in every muscle and bone from the souls of his feet to the back of his head that he has no choice but to succumb to. So badly does he want to feel Luffy all over him, all up in him, but he can't ignore his limit if he tries. He gets what he wants anyways, without having said a word Law's exhausted body is crushed by the concrete hold Luffy calls a hug, and Law couldn't be more grateful for Luffy's mysterious workout routine. It's the silent communication of Law's needs that relaxes him further, not needing to rely on his voice for Luffy to know, to understand, his pain makes it all the more easier to just let Luffy take care of him.

You got me out here writing paragraphs man, you've changed my chemical components on a spiritual level lol. Also, I stand by that my headcanon dumps are a bit much, so just know that I don't expect a masterpiece response every time. I MEAN THEY ARE ENCOURAGED CAUSE GYATT DAMN, would ABSOLUTELY eat your writing while dressed better than for a wedding and a napkin in my lap, but I dunno, I don't want you to think I'm trying to make you pump out tailored content for me. Definitely just like my own self-consciousness wanting me to make that clear sorry lol I think this might be the largest headcanon dump I've shared.

-💫💀💫

ANONNN I AM SO SORRY I JUST CHECKED MY INBOX AND SAW THIS BEAUTY!!

I am sooo glad you enjoyed my little oneshot I wrote and it scratched the itch of your last message. I just took that idea and RANNNNNN with it I have to admit.

I am also super happy that you came up with your own head canons omfg I'm frothing. I definitely can't write a whole story this time, but you inspired me to add some of my own little head canons because it was just too good!

You are hilarious and I am picturing you dressed for a wedding waiting for dinner but it's actually just my writing. Don't feel self-conscious, I live for this shit. You can leave headcanons whenever though I can't promise I'll be able to get back asap, I will always slurp it up and add my own thoughts if it's something that speaks to me. Maybe one day you'll decide to share your own stories and I will be the one who gets to leave my headcanons in there! :)

With that being said, here are my thoughts:

I loveee Lulaw aftercare (and just aftercare in general cause who doesn't like the sweet moments after getting your insides rearranged), especially your situation. I'm deceased at the thought of Luffy always waiting up for Law's goodnight kiss. Does he do it because he wants Law to be the last thing he sees every night before bed? Or because he wants to make sure that he's awake if Law needs him after his long hard days at work? Maybe both, Luffy is self-indulgent and also wants to do whatever he can to make Law feel loved and comfortable.

Sometimes Law needs Luffy to fuck him until he forgets about how shit his day was and how maybe he lost a patient and he just needs his mind and body filled with nothing but Luffy who can push him to the edge in unimaginable ways. Luffy never says no, he could eat Law for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. He just loves watching the way his normally tense and irritated lover falls apart underneath him. Other times, Law just needs his partner to give him a quick and much-needed release before pulling him into his arms and giving him the attention he craves when he can barely think straight after a stressful day, his body screaming at him to just shut off and let go.

Luffy knows Law so well that he never has to tell him what he wants which is great because Law is terrible about asking for things. He never wants to be a burden, never wants to feel like he's taking too much from Luffy when he's already given him everything he's ever wanted and more. Luffy feels Law's body going limp after he comes, how he sighs contently and buries his face into his chest. Law just needs him there to recharge him, to soothe his weary body and soul and Luffy loves him so much he would never think of doing anything different.

Luffy knows exactly what Law needs in those quiet moments in the dark. He runs his hands over Law's aching body, healing him with his soft touches. Soft kisses are pressed against his skin, no intent to go anywhere further behind them even though Luffy yearns to feel Law around him, to hear his pretty sounds echoing through his ears. That can wait for another time, right now he will just satisfy Law with his gentle caresses. He wraps his arms around Law, pulling his weary form into his arms, so close that he begins to forget where he ends and Law begins just the way he likes it.

Law usually gets so flustered and cranky when Luffy spills his feeling out but they've been doing this for so long now that Luffy knows Law will let him say whatever he wants when they're like this and he takes full advantage of it. He plays with Law's hair, telling him how much he loves him, how he's so lucky to have him in his life, how he wants to be with him forever. He lists all of the thing he loves about him-his compassion, dedication, strength, and beauty.

Law loves the way Luffy's voice sounds when he whispers these sweet nothings into his ear. He's so calm and quiet, so different from his normally loudmouthed self. Sometimes he responds, though usually only with a "thank you" or "I love you". Words are hard for him even though he feels just as strongly for Luffy. It brings him comfort knowing that Luffy never expects him to say anything back, that he does this simply because he wants to.

Once, in a fit of insecurity, Law asked Luffy if he feels neglected because Law is so terrible with words and even though he tries, he just can't express how he feels inside. Luffy simply smiled at him and said "I know how much you love me. You don't need to say it. I just like to tell you because sometimes you get in your head like you are right now and forget". Another time, he apologized to Luffy for being too exhausted to move a muscle after Luffy went down on him. Just like before, Luffy smiled and said "Making you feel good makes me feel good. Taking care of you makes me happy."

After that, Law realized he might just be the luckiest man in the world. He stopped worrying about if Luffy wanted or needed more from him on these days when he he couldn't give anymore. He graciously took all the affection he was given, allowing Luffy's calming voice to lull him to sleep, saying words Law would never be able to accept were all for him.

That's all for today, sorry if it was a little messy I am too tired to proofread any further. Thank you once again for the food for thought <3333

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

A Strange Sort of Family

hi, resident evil fandom, i'd like to throw my hat in the ring

look, i don't even really go here, the fandom mold just got into my brain and would not fucking leave. this is my first time writing any of these characters so if they feel a bit rocky, please forgive me. my media analysis brain has been spinning nonstop since we started the resident evil brain rot and ho boy would I love to sink my teeth into a proper horror fic but! i don't know if i'm there yet so i figured i'd start a bit easier for me :)

also--we all know there's no way ethan's just gone from the franchise now, right? like, sure, he's dead, but he died like 30 minutes into re7 and that didn't fucking stop him

ALSO also big shoutout to @dragonsareaqueerthing and @greenninjagal-blog for the encouragement to actaully make the words go :) hopefully i'll be spending more time in this fandom now that I've got that ball rolling

Read on Ao3

Warnings: talk about events of shadows of rose dlc, nothing explicit, bullying

Pairings: implied ethan/mia/chris, but Ethan & Rose is the focus

Word Count: 10,919

You'd think after about 16 years of being treated like a child and the most powerful bioweapon the world has ever seen, you might get used to it.

Nope!

Not even slightly.

Sometimes a family is a molded bioweapon, a traumatized agent, a former bioterrorist, and a series of golden, sparkly words. Sometimes family is decorating your room with your mother, sometimes family is hugging a pillow because your dad isn't here anymore. Sometimes family is training too hard and going out for ice cream, sometimes family is a dinner where your parents won't stop teasing you.

Or, five times Ethan Winters was there for his daughter, and one time Rosemary Winters was there for her father.

1.

You'd think after about 16 years of being treated like a child and the most powerful bioweapon the world has ever seen, you might get used to it.

Nope!

Not even slightly.

Okay, well, maybe slightly, but only in the way she's able to shake off some of the lesser things that would've made her really upset before. She's no longer threatening the lives of the agents that call her Eveline, to her face or behind her back when they think she can't hear them. Even when she really, really wants to. Small victories.

But despite her best efforts, she still returns to the cell block of a room—Chris had been so insistent that it wasn't a cell, but it was all concrete walls and a tiny window and a camera that she knows is in the corner—and curls up on her bed, jamming her headphones in and refusing to engage with the outside world until she could summon up the resolve to impersonate a normal person again.

Today had been no exception.

Rose throws her backpack onto her desk chair and slings her hat over the hook, kicking her shoes off and collapsing face-first onto the bed with a groan. More tests today, always more fucking tests. Didn't they have every inch of her shitty, moldy body cataloged by now? She has half a mind to start making shit up when they ask her the same stupid questions. 'How are you feeling today, Rose?' Oh, you know, just getting stuck with more needles than a fucking porcupine, how do you fucking think I'm feeling? Yeah, no, no homicidal instincts yet, just had one murderous thought the other day when I was imagining mold eating the bitch who called me a charity case. Although I did go to the park after I snuck away from that asshole you have tailing me on Tuesdays to see if I could amass a mushroom army, how was your day?

A small laugh leaves her throat at the thought of the doctor's face if she actually did say that, but then she'd probably have two assholes tailing her until they deemed her 'no longer a risk.' God, they were supposed to be these super highly trained agents, then why the fuck do they suck ass at being subtle?

Turns out, even having mold superpowers means she still has to breathe like a normal person, so she drags her face up from the bed and doesn't even bother to fully get up to inchworm up to the pillows. She mashes her face against the slightly cold surface—honestly, the best part about this prison-cell-ass room was that the air conditioning was always on Arctic, so her pillows were always cold—and grabs her phone, squinting at the notifications.

One from school saying her group project deadline was coming up…something from some shopping website she'd logged onto out of pure boredom three weeks ago…and a text from Chris.

Rose sits up a little more and opens the text. "Overseas this week…sorry I'll miss the—you fucking dick!"

Of course Chris is working this weekend, of course he's not gonna be fucking here to take her to the cemetery—great, that means another two hours of bus rides until she can actually go see her dad. She swears he does this on purpose sometimes, how often does he actually need to go overseas for 'work?' And it's not like anyone else here would be able to take her, she's learned her fucking lesson about asking them for anything more than more fucking food. Not bothering to stifle her groan, she flops back onto the bed, only for her phone to clatter out of her hand and onto the floor.

Great. Now she has to move again to pick it up.

She decides that moving is actually not what she's going to do right now, letting one arm hang over the edge of the bed, her cheek scrunched awkwardly against the lip of the mattress. She tucks her face against the collar of her jacket and rubs her thumb against the ring on her finger.

"Sorry it's gonna take me longer," she mumbles, "I really wanted to spend longer with you this time."

Her eyes widen when gold sparkling words appear on the floor next to her phone.

it's okay

"What the—" she whips around to look at the door, closed tightly, and jerks back— "how—"

The words are still there. The words are still etched into the floor, right next to her phone. She should check if they're on the camera—no, they can fucking hack into her phone whenever they want, and she doesn't—she can't—if this really is—

Rose swallows the lump in her throat as the words shift and change.

you ok?

"I—what—how are—" she swallows again, camera in the corner of the room, "uh, M-Michael?"

A pause as the words reform: sure

"I mean, I—I know," she says quickly, "I know what—I know what this is, I…I remember, it's just…"

camera, I know

"How is this possible?" she whispers, not daring to move from her haphazard scramble up the bed, "I thought you were—I mean, at the end, when we, uh, did the thing, it seemed like you were…that you were going again."

The words sparkle again as she grips the sleeve of her jacket—his jacket.

apparently i'm bad at it

"Bad at what?"

staying dead

Another laugh chokes its way out of her throat and she reaches out without thinking about it, just to touch the words. They glow a little bit brighter as she touches them and the tips of her fingers glow. Almost as an afterthought, she grabs her phone and shoves it behind her, hopefully muffling the microphone and at the very least, getting its cameras away from her dad.

Her dad. Those are her dad's words, that's her dad, he's here, he's here.

"Are you—is this…are you really here?"

sort of, as the golden words swirl around, part of you

"What do you mean, 'part of me?'"

not a scientist

"You're the only other m—person like me I know, I'm sure it'll be fine." She can almost hear the little huff of laughter as the golden sparkles swirl again. It seems like it's the same as it was when she was in there, with her dad only able to say a few words at a time.

i'm part of the mold, just like you, we're sharing a part right now

"Are you always sharing a part with me?"

i wish i could, and she feels her chest hurt a little bit, takes energy

"I guess that makes sense." Her arm begins to ache from being so stretched out. "I really miss you."

i miss you too sweetie

Fuck, she's 16, she should not be getting this choked up over her dad calling her 'sweetie,' but fuck it, she's a mold person and her dad's dead, she's allowed to sniffle a little when those words glow warmly under her fingers. Some hysterical part of her wonders if he'd be able to give her a tissue or a hanky the way he gave her guns and chem fluid in there, but she scrubs at her nose with her sleeve and decides that it's enough right now that he's here, in her room, still calling her sweetie.

***

2.

She almost recognizes it the second time, a tug in her gut. Given that she's got her hands over her face and is currently doing a fabulous impression of an angry seal, it'd be harder for her to see it. Still, she can't help the dumb smile on her face when she rolls over.

bad day?

"Oh, you know," she mumbles, "just your average day of being a human guinea pig."

ew

She snorts, clapping a hand over her mouth to muffle it. "You know I get a look at their notes sometimes? That's what they call you, just your initials."

surprised they're still talking about me

"What do you mean? Of course they're still talking about you, you're the—" she cuts herself off. The golden sparkles swirl.

i'm the what?

"Never mind."

The floorboards wait expectantly, but she twists the ring around her finger, chewing on her lip. After another moment, new words appear.

can i help?

"With what? With the tests?"

with you

Another tug in her gut, this time at the fact that she can't actually remember the last time someone asked after her, not their biggest liability or their most dangerous weapon. She props herself up on the cold pillows—thank you, government AC—and sighs. "I'm just really tired."

i bet

"Like—are they bored? What do they get out of sticking me with the same needle fifty different times? And it's not like they talk to me about anything, they just look at each other and then fake-smile at me and they tell me 'you're doing great,' like I'm supposed to know what that means. And the other people aren't any better! They keep trying to train me how to do a thing but they're not—it's not like they tell me why we're doing something or what I'm supposed to be doing instead, they just tell me I'm wrong and that's it."

that sucks

She huffs. "You have no idea."

After a moment, though, she realizes that might not actually be true. From what little she's actually managed to get Chris to tell her, and what she can learn from Mom, they were both held in BSAA's quarantine for ages before they moved over to Romania. And if Mom knew about Dad's…not-aliveness way before he did, then they must've done some sort of tests on him too.

"Can I ask you something?"

anything

"Did they, um, did they test you too?"

The floorboards stay empty for a minute, but it feels more like he's thinking than it does him avoiding the question. Sure enough, after another moment, words start appearing again.

they did, they didn't tell me anything either, just that i was lucky

"Lucky how?"

to have made it, even when i didn't

"You did, though," she mumbles, fiddling with the ring again, "you—this part of you made it. Chris told me, Mom told me. You…even after you were…gone the first time, you…you came back. The important parts of you, they came back."

and i'm grateful for it, for you

"You're gonna make me cry," she mutters, scrunching up a little tighter.

i love you Rosie

"Shut up." It's empty and they both know it. A few extra sparkles swirl around and she could swear he's laughing. "I love you too."

Sunlight streams in through her tiny window and she finds herself looking at the way the leaves on the tree dapple the shadow across the floor. Part of her dad's words are still glowing. She looks at the nightstand, bare except for her charger and alarm clock, then over at the desk where her school stuff is, then at the dresser. She reaches out and touches the metal bedframe. It's cold underneath her fingers.

what's wrong?

"Nothing." The words remain and she sighs. "I'm just being mopey."

you're allowed to mope

"Someone at school said something today," she says before she can think better of it, and she winces at how young she sounds.

bullies?

"Not really, it wasn't even really about me, I just—it's stupid."

if you're upset it's not stupid

"They were just talking about this thing they got for their room, okay?" Embarrassment makes her curl her fingers into the loose fabric of her jacket. "It's this mirror thing that hooks up to your phone and lets you play music and stuff from there. They were just talking about it and I thought—see, I told you it was stupid."

There's another pause. The breeze rustles the leaves outside. The shadows dance over the walls.

do you want it?

"Not really…I don't like mirrors that much anyway. And it's not like they'd let me just have another thing that connects to the Internet in here." She glances at the alarm clock. "I barely got them to let me get a laptop for school stuff. I don't think they've got a 'Mold Bioweapon Allowance' in their budget."

The silence grows thoughtful. She turns her head to look at the floorboards again, watching the few sparkles there swirl around.

it's your room, they say finally, it should feel like it

Rose scoffs. "What am I supposed to do, walk up and ask them to sponsor a shopping trip?"

why not?

"They're not gonna do that. They're just gonna brush me off again or tell me they're busy."

you've tried?

"I told you, I barely managed to get a laptop, which is something I need to be able to do schoolwork or anything, even have a taste of what being normal is like. And even then I had to argue for like, ages, and I had to get one of my teachers to write an email saying that it's necessary." She swats the white pillowcase, bitterness seeping into her words. "Everything else isn't necessary. They're all about practicality, like I'm just some other expense they have to deal with."

what about Chris? or Mom?

"Chris isn't here. He's always off somewhere doing something or he's here glaring at me like I'm some stupid new recruit that he doesn't want to have to train. And Mom's…I don't want to bother her, you know? She's got her own life now."

she's your mom, come the words almost before she's done speaking, she'd want to know

Rose sighs, sitting up to lean against the headboard. She twists the ring around and around her finger, chewing on her lip. "I don't know. Sometimes it feels like she's…like she doesn't want to know."

Another pause. What her dad had said before, about them sharing a part of the mold—she can feel something in her chest. An emotion that isn't quite hers, something like a deep and exasperated sadness. It's faint, not quite enough to put words there, but she can tell when she needs to look back down at the floor.

she does love you, let her

"Okay. I'll try."

thank you

"Would you come shopping with me?" she asks, even when she knows the answer. "If you could?"

The room gets a little happier as the sparkles swirl around.

i'd spend all day with you

"What did you want to have in your room? When you were my age?"

telescope

"A telescope?" She laughs. "Did you want to be an astronaut?"

astronaut ew

She laughs again and the sunlight seems a little brighter.

***

3.

She meets Mom at a coffee shop near the big bookstore downtown. She's not wearing Dad's jacket—it still feels weird to do, even after Mom's said it's fine—but she has his ring on a necklace under her shirt. Mom waves her over to a table in the corner, nodding to the smoothie already waiting.

"Pineapple mango," she says as Rose sits down, "your favorite."

"Thanks, Mom." She takes a big drink, savoring the weird feeling the pineapple leaves on her tongue. "How're you?"

"I'm okay. Work's been getting busy again recently with the month's end rush." Mom swirls her straw around her coffee. "Did I tell you about this new thing our boss is trying to make us do?"

"No, what?"

"Apparently some young CEO in the area made it big on corporate social media about 'team building exercises,'" and Rose is already groaning in sympathy, "so he sent out this survey this past week about what activity we'd rather do."

"What were the options?"

"This group painting class thing, where we all paint the same picture—"

"Like in kindergarten?"

"Like in kindergarten," Mom agrees, "there's a bar-arcade place that's just opened up on the West Side that does private events, and then there's a good old-fashioned work dinner."

Rose makes a face. "That's it? No, like, crazy obstacle courses, or escape rooms, or anything?"

"We barely had the budget for the normal year-end stuff."

"So what did you vote for?"

"I ended up voting for the painting, actually—"

"What? Mom, that's so lame."

"Hey!" She jokingly flicks a napkin at Rose. "Lamer than the most awkward dinner you can imagine or sitting and drinking for a whole evening?"

"Isn't that what adults do? You sit and drink and talk?"

Mom sighs, shaking her head as they both laugh. "Yeah, well, I figured it might be better if we tried to do something that wasn't just sitting and drinking."

"I guess."

"Besides, I'm still missing something for the bathroom upstairs. Maybe I'll hang up whatever I manage to make there," she adds, winking at Rose.

It's supposed to be a joke at how bad at art she is—really, even Chris looked at her stick figures and struggled to find something nice to say, and Mom just laughed it off—but Rose's smile fades and she shuffles a little in the chair. She drinks more of her smoothie. Dad's words turn over and over in her head.

"Hey, Mom?"

"Mm?"

"Would you…" She fights the urge to reach for the ring. "Would you help me decorate my room?"

Mom's brow furrows. "At my house?"

"N-no, my…my room at the compound. It's stupid, never mind."

"It's not stupid, Rose," Mom says, picking up her coffee, "I'm just—I guess I'm just surprised. Most teens don't really want their parents anywhere near their rooms."

"Yeah, well, forget it."

A car drives by. Despite herself, she reaches for the ring anyway. Something warm pulses in her chest.

"It's just," she manages, "I don't really have anything in there. It's just the military stuff."

Mom's coffee cup hits the table with a thud. "What do you mean you don't have anything in there?"

"I mean, there's just a dresser, a desk, and a bed. And my little side table thing. They didn't really give me any—"

"How much time do you have?"

Rose blinks. "Huh?"

"How much time before you have to get back?" Mom's already getting up and putting the lid back on her coffee. "We're not that far from the big stores and I have my car."

"I, uh, I think I have a few hours, so—" she scrambles up too, reaching to grab Mom's arm— "wait, you're really okay with doing this?"

Mom pauses for a moment, then reaches out and covers Rose's hand with hers. "You're my daughter, Rosie, I'd love to help you decorate your room."

A lump appears in her throat and she swallows it down. "Thank you."

"Come on," Mom grins, "what are you thinking you want?"

"Uh, I was thinking maybe like a whiteboard? That way I could write down stuff that I might forget? Or like—a magnetic one so I could stick stuff to it?" She gets into Mom's car and they start driving. "Or a corkboard—I've seen a lot of people pin like, pictures and stuff to a corkboard on their walls."

"What if you get both? A corkboard to put pictures and cute stuff and then a whiteboard to write on?"

"I also want a lamp. The normal lights just make my head hurt. And they buzz, you know?"

"Oh, I know exactly what you're talking about. It's like the world's most annoying crickets, isn't it?"

"And there's no, like, in between! It's either no light at all or—"

"Or my eyes are being scorched out, that's right."

They pull into the parking lot of the store and get out, still bouncing ideas back and forth. Mom grabs a cart and they head straight for the stationary section and they spend about five minutes talking about the different corkboards and whiteboards. Then Rose decides she wants magnets so she can stick stuff to the whiteboard, then Mom spots a cute set of push pins, and then another mom and daughter walk by with one of those fancy photo printers that print out pictures from your phone like Polaroids, and they just have to get Rose one of those.

As they pick out lamps and wall decor and sheets that actually have some color, she's struck by how normal this is. She's with her mom. They're shopping for stuff for her room. They're freaking out over the pillows that have little penguins on them. She's actually smiling and laughing and she's excited. She can't wait to get back and put all this stuff in her room.

She just…wishes Dad could be here too.

"I think I'd prefer the yellow lampshade, but it's up to you." Mom looks up from the shelf to notice she's gone quiet. "Hey, what's going on?"

"Nothing, nothing," she says quickly, wiping surreptitiously at her face, "…just…I kinda wish Dad was here too."

Mom's fingers stutter on the box and for a moment, she thinks she's going to see those walls go up again, the ones that always go up when she tries to talk about Dad, but then Mom puts the box down and rubs at her wedding ring. She still wears it sometimes. Rose reaches for Dad's, under her shirt.

"I wish he was here too, Rosie," Mom says quietly, "he'd be so proud of you."

Rose swallows, and her eyes catch on a tiny monkey LED lamp further down the shelf. She picks it up. "I think he'd vote for this one, don't you?"

A hint of fond exasperation comes to Mom's face. "God, did I ever tell you what happened when he found out that you loved that little monkey you got when you were still a baby? He tried to buy everything monkey-themed he could find because he thought you might like it."

"Wait, really?"

"I had to get Chris to help me talk him out of buying an entire monkey crib for you."

Rose puts the monkey lamp in the cart. Mom smiles and they keep walking. They end up spending way more than she thought they'd be and sheepishly tries to put some stuff back, but Mom won't hear a word of it and bags everything up.

"Chris can help cover the cost if he's so worried about it," she declares as they pull back up to the meeting spot where the car is supposed to take Rose back to the compound, "anyway, all of this should have been done years ago."

"Thanks, Mom," Rose says, "I had fun."

"We should definitely do it again. I'll help you decorate your college dorm too."

Rose smiles and gets out of the car. It fades a bit when she sees Paul again, leaning against the side of the van with his arms crossed. She turns her back deliberately on him and goes to help Mom get all the bags out of the trunk.

"You're late," Paul says, like he has any right to sound like a smug, condescending asshole.

"By like five minutes. Open the trunk."

"What's all that?"

"Stuff. For my room."

"Well, I—hey!" Paul finally moves when Mom just opens the trunk and starts putting the bags inside.

"You must be the agent Rose told me about," Mom says, her voice saccharine as she dusts off her hands, "is that right, honey?"

"Yeah," she mumbles, "that's him."

"Paul," he says, "Ms. Winters."

"Mia." Mom holds out her hand and he takes it, Rose peering at them from under the brim of her hat. Her eyes widen when Mom yanks Paul closer to her, her smile fading as she hisses in his ear. "Call my daughter Eveline again and I'll break your nose, are we clear?"

Paul jerks in surprise, before turning his head slightly. "Stand down, it's fine, I can handle it."

"You can't afford to make a scene in such a public place," Mom says, her voice still perfectly even, "and Chris won't risk harming me or Rose. So you can start treating my daughter like a person or I can break your nose right now and Chris can clean up your mess."

Rose can't stop her snort as Paul sheepishly walks back to the front of the car and gets in. Mom watches him go before she turns around and says, loud enough for him to hear, "Make sure you send me pictures when you get it the way you want it, okay?"

"I will."

"And if you decide you want anything else, we'll get it next time."

"Thanks, Mom. I love you."

"I love you too, Rosie." She glares once more in Paul's direction before she walks back to her car.

Rose doesn't stop smirking as Paul drives them back to the compound. He slinks off with his tail between his legs after helping her get all her stuff into her room. She can't cover up the camera—and let them know she knows about it—but she can play her music out loud as she decorates, hanging up the little plants they found and pinning a few photos to her new corkboard. It still strikes her how normal all of this is, dancing to her music and putting up all of her new things, finally collapsing onto her now-colorful blankets with a laugh.

She texts a few photos to Mom, who responds with gushing reviews and excited emojis, before she rolls onto her side to look at the floor.

"What do you think?"

The words only take a second to appear.

it's beautiful, sweetie

"You were right," she murmurs, "it was really nice to let Mom take care of me a bit."

i'm glad

"Oh! I forgot to show you the best part!" Rose jumps off the bed and goes over to the far wall, switching on the fairy lights she hung from the ceiling amidst a bunch of fake vines. "Now the camera will just think the glowing is from the lights!"

Golden sparkles swirl beneath the soft glow.

you're so smart

"I mean," she blusters, trying not to show how pleased she is, "I was just tired of lying down to talk to you all the time."

i see, still clever

"Thanks." After a moment, she reaches over and picks up the little monkey lamp and her stuffed monkey, safely hidden beneath her pillows. "Mom told me you wanted to buy a monkey crib for me."

it would go with the onesie

"You got me a monkey onesie?"

mom has pictures

"I'll have to ask her next time." She chews on her lip, running her fingers over the seams of the monkey's ear. "I wish you could've been there."

me too

"Mom threatened to break Paul's nose if he was rude to me again." The light swirls as Dad laughs and she laughs too. "I'd kick him in the nuts too."

that's my girl

***

4.

"Stupid fucking dickhead," she spits as she slams the door, throwing her backpack onto the chair so hard it scrapes across the floor. "Fucking asshole! I'll fucking rip his head off, the fucking bastard!"

Out of the corner of her eye, she sees a tiny sparkle from the floorboards, and she stomps over to the lights, turning them on. Almost immediately, golden words swirl up.

what happened?

"Your buddy Chris fucking happened!" Rose throws herself onto the bed and punches the pillow. "He keeps treating me like I'm some—some fucking gun that only he knows how to fire and I'm fucking sick of it!"

It had been especially bad today, too. Chris apparently woke up and decided yeah, today's the day I'm gonna be a total fucking asshole for no goddamn reason. He started them out sparring, which he never does, he always has them warm up first because it's important not to strain yourself, except apparently not today when she was thrown against the fucking ground three times before she could even open her mouth long enough to say hi.

Or maybe ask what the hell crawled up his ass that morning.

And then he kept fucking looking at her like he was disappointed! Like it was her fault she wasn't expecting to be slammed up against the wall or pinned to the ground by a man fucking three times her size and then grunted at when she winced in pain because that fucking hurt, you asshole! And he kept on saying these stupid little comments that just made her angrier and angrier and then he had the gall to be like hey, you need to get a handle on your emotions like he wasn't pushing every single fucking button he knew she had!

You need to be sharper, he'd said like he had any right to try and be reasonable as he almost dislocated her fucking shoulder, emotions make you sloppy.

Yeah, well, he could try being sharper when he was being bullied for no fucking reason.

And when she'd finally screamed at him that she was done, that she didn't want to fucking do this anymore, he had the fucking audacity, the nerve to scoff and cross his arms and tell her that no, she wasn't done, she was only done when he said she was done. And yeah, she hadn't really made the decision to rush at him after that, her body did that on its own, but he literally just tossed her aside like a fucking doll and then said she wasn't leaving until she could do the fucking stupid thing he wanted her to.

She tried. She really fucking did.

But she couldn't do it.

And Chris kept refusing to help, saying he'd been training her for so long already, that he'd wash her out if she were any other recruit—to which she'd screamed that she wasn't, so why the fuck was he being like this? And he didn't fucking answer! He just told her to try it again and he kept making her angrier and angrier and she could tell Chris was getting angry too which just made hers worse because what fucking right did he have to be mad at her? What the fuck did she do to him?

It ended really badly. She'd gotten so mad she'd thrown herself at him again, not caring about proper technique or what was smart or anything, she just went for him. He grappled her, obviously, and that was supposed to be their tap-out, fight's-over thing, but she hadn't stopped. She'd scratched him and punched him and kicked him even when he growled at her to yield, and when that didn't work, she'd bit him.

Chris fucking wrenched her off of him and threw her across the room and she heard three guns click.

They'd glared at each other, Chris holding his arm like it was a fucking biohazard, and then he'd stalked off without a word while agents forcibly shoved her back to her room.

She's panting by the time she finishes, glaring a hole in the wall right below where the words normally appear. Her hands still tingle from where she'd hit the walls and the pillows. She looks up when she sees the familiar swirl.

you shouldn't have bitten him

The anger surges up her arms and she clenches her fists. "That's all you have to say? No 'I'm sorry he was such a dick, Rose?' 'You didn't deserve that?' You're fucking defending him?"

i didn't say that

"I just told you that your friend, the person you told to watch over me and keep me safe was fucking bullying me for no goddamn reason and the only thing you can say is that I shouldn't have defended myself?" Betrayal steeps vehemence into her words. Her nails bite into her palms. "I'm fucking glad I bit him!"

he's trying to help

"How in the fuck is he trying to help," she cries, "by being as bad as the bullies in school? By treating me like a freak that needs to be kept muzzled and on a leash?"

you did bite him

She picks up one of the pillows and hurls it at the wall. It hits with a pathetic thwap and falls limply to the floor. It only makes her angrier when she sees the words calm down when the lights stop shaking.

"Don't fucking tell me to calm down! You're supposed to be on my side!"

i am

She barks out a humorless laugh and picks up the pillow, throwing it back on the bed. "You're not on my side, you're on his. I don't need you lecturing me too. Just leave me alone."

More golden words swirl as she turns away, throwing herself onto the bed and curling up tightly around her stuffed monkey. She chokes around the lump in her throat and wills herself not to cry. She'd almost cried in front of Chris today already, she won't give either of them the satisfaction of seeing her cry now. She won't, she won't, she won't! It's not fucking fair that Chris did that. It's not fucking fair that he gets to act however the fuck he wants and then she's the only one punished for it. He gets to go all over the fucking world and only see her when it's convenient to him and he gets to be an asshole about it.

Dad's not even alive.

A sob chokes out before she can stop it, and then it's too late. She's blubbering like she's a stupid fucking baby again and she can hear the echoes of their voices in her ears. All alone, poor freak Rose, crying like a baby who doesn't get her way. She's so weird, she's so stupid, she can't do it. She's useless, she's not strong enough. Just go away. No one wants you here. No one wants you. No matter how hard she presses her hands to her ears, they won't fucking shut up!

Maybe she should've fucking kept the purifying crystal. Maybe she should've left with no powers and had a normal fucking life. Maybe she should've just left her dad to—

As soon as the thought threatens to cross her mind, she recoils from it. Guilt and anger war in her gut as she nearly grows sick. How could she fucking think that? After all he'd done to save her, protect her, how could she think about something like that, even if it was in a fit of rage?

A strangled noise escapes her throat and the bruises and injuries from her humiliating 'sparring session' abruptly make themselves known. Her body screams in pain; her shoulders ache, the bruise on her ribs throbs, and her jaw feels like it's about to explode. She has the hysterical impulse to bite herself and she wonders if it would hurt more than everything else. Out of the corner of her eye, she glimpses a glow coming from the floorboards now and she curls up tighter, burying her face in the monkey's tummy. Fuck it, she's been called overly emotional and childish enough times already, she may as well throw her tantrum properly.

It's like falling into the Megamycete again; she has no idea how long she lies there, wallowing in her own emotional turmoil. Flashes of the bullies, of Chris's stupid fucking face, of watching herself get tossed around and left behind…even stranger things like massive castles filled with screams and horror, creepy old houses that just feel like tombs, deep water and clanking metal, all filled with whispers of freak, dangerous, stupid child, not good enough. Everything is too loud and too quiet and she just wants it to be over.

When she finally manages to rouse herself from whatever malaise she'd fallen into, the sun has long set. Her clock shows that it's close to 10—that would explain why her stomach is trying to dig a hole in her intestines. The anger fled unknown hours ago, leaving her weary and wrung out. In its absence, she no longer feels like the bioweapon that she's supposed to be, only the scared and lonely child. It's cold. She's hungry.

There's still a soft golden glow coming from over the side of the bed.

Her lip wobbles. She doesn't want to face the consequences of yelling at her dad and throwing a pillow at him, but she can't stop the blooming warmth that he didn't leave. She crawls to the edge of the bed and peeks over.

i'm sorry Rose

She sniffles and rubs her cheek on the sheets. "'M sorry too."

you were right, i should've been on your side

"You're always on my side," she mumbles, "I know you are."

still

She sniffles again and tucks the monkey under her chin. "Why was Chris so mean today? Did I do something wrong?"

i don't think so, sometimes he's just like that

"Why?" She's ignoring how much she sounds like a baby, thank you. "It's not fair."

no it's not sweetie

Rose closes her eyes, basking in the soft glow of her dad's comfort. "Was he ever mean to you when you were training?"

yeah

"What did you do?"

broke his nose once

It startles a laugh out of her. "You what? Wait, what happened?"

he was being an asshole, so i punched him

She giggles again, both at the image of Chris's surprised face with a broken nose and at the fact that her dad got so angry with Chris that he punched him hard enough. A few more golden sparkles surround the words before they change again.

you shouldn't try it though

"Aw," she complains, mostly for show, "but you did it."

do as i say not as i do

She's quiet. After a moment, she lets her arm hang down to touch the words again. They glow gently. "I don't like fighting with you."

me neither

"I'm sorry. I was being a brat."

The words swirl up quicker than she's ever seen.

you were upset at something unfair, not a being a brat

She sniffles again, reaching over to grab a hanky and blow her nose with a sharp honk. She throws it over to the laundry basket and lies back down. The words have changed.

if you need to hear it, i forgive you

"I forgive you too."

rest

She nestles up against the pillows. "Will you stay until I go to sleep?"

of course sweetie, i love you

***

5.

Mostly Rose doesn't dream. She'll close her eyes and open them again and it will be hours later and it's time to get up. Most of the time when she does dream, it's weird half-memories that aren't hers mixed with something she does actually remember. She has dreams of a house with a red chimney being taken apart by little robotic goats, or of a crocodile swimming through a swamp filled with dead crows, or of bugs crawling over test tubes and dirty flasks. Some of them make sense when she digs into the files she's not really supposed to have access to, some of them don't.

On rare, awful occasions, she has nightmares.

She's been curled up and unmoving for who knows how long, desperately trying to feign sleep. The mold in her keeps prickling like there's something else in the room, watching her, just waiting for a sign that she's awake to pounce. Her white-knuckled grip hasn't wavered either. She dares hardly breathe; even though her rational brain knows there's nothing there, there can't be anything there, her entire body is screaming. She can feel the milky sweat beginning to ooze from her palms.

Something creaks.

She goes stiff as a board.

A creak, a groan, a rumble as the air conditioning turns on and she forces herself to relax, cracking open one eye to see that yes, this is just her room, there's nothing to be afraid of here, she's fine.

Her eyes land on the switch to the fairy lights.

The small and whimpering part of her lunges for them, for the warm glow of the light, her dad's words, in lieu of running to her parents' bed to be comforted. The other part hisses that the second she moves, whatever's lurking in the dark will strike. The monkey wheezes as she tightens her grip, staring at the innocuous plastic box hanging against the wall.

With a sudden burst, she launches herself from the bed, slapping the button, and curling back up beneath the safety of the blankets.

Immediately, the soft warm light chases away the worst of the shadows and she can peek over her shoulder to assure herself that yes, nothing is there, she's safe in her room, everything's okay. Golden sparkles are already swirling, a quiet inquisitiveness filling that one empty part in her chest as she lies back down. He's rotated his words so she can read them easily.

what's the matter, sweetie?

"Nightmare," she whispers, more into her pillow than anything else.

i'm sorry

She curls up tighter, trying to pull the blankets up almost over her head. The sweat's almost ruined her monkey—she's going to have to wash it again—and she wipes her hands on the sheet. The absence of it hits the cold air and she shivers, hunching tighter in the covers and sniffling. A sudden and sharp ache sears through her chest and she shudders, harder this time, only the top of her nose peeking out over the comforter. She's so cold. Not in the way where she can pile more blankets on and it'll go away—she could put the whole world on top of her and she would still be cold. This horrible, achy, exhausting cold that seeps into her bones and makes her want to cry.

what can i do?

"You said in your—in your letter," she hiccups, "that you'd hold me when I had nightmares, and—and sing to me until I went back to sleep."

But the words on her wall are just words and words can't hold anybody.

She wants a fucking hug, goddamnit. No one touches her anymore, not unless they're running some stupid test, or sparring, or escorting her roughly down the hallway like some—some prisoner. The last time someone touched her and it wasn't that it was Mom, telling her she'd help decorate her room and that was so long ago, everyone else just—just—

"I want to go home," she sobs and it lands like a dead weight in the still room.

what do you mean?

"I want to go home, I want to go back to that house you showed—showed me when I was in there, where you—where your memories are and I can actually h-hear you and it's warm an'—an' safe, and you love me," she cries, not caring that it's the middle of the night and she's talking to a wall, "no one here loves me. No one loves me, the doctors think I'm some—some experiment that's run too—too long and the agents all think I'm a l-liability and Mom's not here because she gave me up and Chris h-hates me."

he doesn't hate you sweetie

"He does! He does, he does, I can feel it." She hugs her monkey tightly to her chest. "He h-hates me for being the reason you're not—you're not here anymore and he hates me for reminding him that you're dead and he hates me for—for being like this and—and—and—!"

shh…shh…shh…

But he's not here and she can't hear him shushing her and she's all alone in her cold, dark room and she wants to go home.

don't cry, Rosie, it's gonna be okay sweetie

"It's not. 'S not okay."

The wall doesn't move for a moment, then it swirls again.

scoot back, i'm going to try something

Frowning, she does, shuffling awkwardly back until she's on the far side of the bed. The golden light swirls around for another second, before it writes itself on one of the pillows.

hug me

"D—Michael?"

i'm right here sweetie, i love you so much

With trembling fingers, she reaches for the pillow, touching the words with a soft gasp as they glow warmly against her still-slick palms. A sob of disbelief leaves her throat and she bundles it to her chest, burying her face in it. A soft scratching and buzzing fills her ears as more words write themselves across the pillow, but she doesn't pull her face away to read them. Not when this is the closest thing to hugging her dad she's been since she was in the deepest stratum of the Megamycete, crying over his dying body. Not when she's still so cold and the words are so, so warm. She tucks her face into the crook of the pillow's embrace and she cries.

The words don't stop writing themselves over and over and if she focuses hard enough, it almost sounds like her dad is humming.

She falls into a light sleep, not willing to miss a moment of actually being so close to her dad, soothed by his presence. Soon, light has begun to break through the window, the auto timer on the lights long since activated to switch them off. The pillow is all gross from a mixture of drool, snot, and tears, and she sheepishly tries to wipe it away when a small glow comes from underneath.

it's okay

"It's kinda gross."

my privilege, i'm your dad

"Still."

ew, remember?

A watery smile. "Thanks."

i love you so much, i'm so proud of you

"I love you too," she mumbles back, curling her arms around the pillow. Another set of words writes itself and she leans back.

do you really think Chris hates you?

"I don't know. He…he looks at me like he can't sometimes. Or like he's waiting for me to…I don't know, turn crazy or bad or like he's waiting for me to turn into you, almost." She rubs her fingers over the pillowcase. "He used to be nicer."

have you spoken since?

She doesn't need to ask what he's talking about. "No. He's been out of town again. He's supposed to be back, um…"

She leans over to check her phone, eyes widening when she sees the date.

"Uh, today. Shit, I actually think we're supposed to have a training thing today."

Before more words can write themselves, there's a knock on her door. She freezes, phone still in her hand, pillow clutched close.

"Rose?" Fuck. "It's Chris. Can I come in?"

be brave, says the last flutter of words before her dad vanishes, i love you

"…yeah."

Chris opens the door. Rose tugs on her dad's jacket over her pajamas and clutches the pillow in her lap. She doesn't look at him. He moves around a little in the doorway before he shuts it with a click. After a moment, the bed dips and groans under his weight and she sneaks a glance at his arm. Her bite mark is still there.

"Surprised they let you walk around before that healed."

"You didn't even break the skin."

It's probably meant to come off in a way that means she doesn't have to worry about it, but it stings anyway. She turns away again.

A car drives by outside.

"I owe you an apology," Chris says finally, his voice low and gruff, "I shouldn't have been so harsh. I'm sorry."

She doesn't reply, but she shifts to face the window instead of the wall.

"There's been talk of getting you moved to another squad," he continues, and her stomach drops—is Chris leaving too?— "and I thought…if I could prove that you were good with us, that we had it all under control, then they'd drop it. Leave you alone."

At the rustle as he shifts, she glances over at him. His jaw works and his hand twitches on his knee.

"I thought…" He trails off, then scoffs at himself, shaking his head. "I don't know what I thought."

He turns to meet her gaze and her gut clenches at the obvious guilt and remorse she can see there. She swallows.

"You were mean." Her voice comes out a lot smaller than she'd hoped. She swallows and tries again. "I thought you hated me."

"I don't hate you, Rose," he says in a rush, turning to face her, "please don't think that."

"So you're not trying to get rid of me?"

"Shit, Rose, no, I'm not trying to get rid of you. You're—I think Mia'd kill me if I tried, no, I'm just—" he takes a breath— "I'm just trying to keep you safe, okay?"

"Then you should've said something! I would've trained harder if I knew—we could've—I would've done something else, did I do something wrong?"

"No," he insists, shaking his head, "no, you didn't do anything wrong."

Relief begins to pool warily in her chest. Her grip on the pillow loosens and she scoots a little closer. "I'm sorry I bit you."

He shakes his head again. "It's fine. You, uh, you have good bite strength."

"Good bite strength?"

"Yeah. Your contact's really good." He gestures to the bite mark on his arm. "Got all of them in there too."

"Thanks," she says, laughing a little. Chris smiles and it's a bit easier to breathe. She gives herself a shake. "So, what's today? Weapons, sparring, how to punch boulders?"

"Actually, I, uh, thought we'd go get ice cream."

Rose pauses, looking up at him, blinking as if she'd heard wrong. "Ice cream?"

"Weather's gonna get cold soon, the good place around the corner's gonna close." He shrugs. "Been craving it."

"Yeah…yeah, ice cream sounds good."

"Great."

And before she can think too much of it, she throws herself at him and hugs him for all she's worth. She feels him stutter, not quite sure what to do, and then his arms slowly wrap around her, holding her just as tightly. And oh, she's on fire, Chris is big and warm and solid and he's holding her like she's something special and she's gonna fucking cry her eyes out if she stays here a moment longer and she's gonna die if she lets go. Chris lets out a noise of dismay when she sniffles and scoops her up, like she's a little kid again, holding her in his lap and now she's making a mess of his shoulder too.

She could swear she feels Dad smile.

***

+1.

"I'm telling you," Rose says as she lounges on her bed, "you're wrong about the cover. It's actually pretty good."

i like the classics

"Yeah, well, you're old and boring, so that makes sense."

:(

The sight of the old-fashioned emoticon frowny face makes her burst out laughing. "Oh my god, that's so lame. I don't think I've seen someone use that in years."

it's a classic!

"You gotta get with the times!"

totes dope fam

Rose winces at the immense amount of psychic damage those three words dealt, her neck protesting as she almost cringes it out of alignment. "No, D—Michael, just no."

lol

She tosses the pillow playfully at the wall again, laughing when another frowny face appears on both it and the wall. "Aww, okay, I'm sorry, here."

She picks it up and cuddles it and the frowny face turns to a smiley face. Lying back down, grin still on her face, she toys with his ring. It's gotten shinier from all the rubbing, except where she ties the cord around it so she can wear it as a necklace. She turns it this way and that, watching the sunlight glint off of it. As she does, she catches sight of the engraving on the inside.

Always and forever.

"Do you want me to tell Mom and Chris about you?"

The words swirl for a moment.

up to you

She pushes herself to sit up, propped on one elbow. The ring glistens as she slides it back onto her finger, turning it to and fro. "I don't know. It feels bad keeping something like this from them, but I want to be selfish about it too, you know? I kind of like having you all to myself."

it's not selfish

"And what if Chris thinks it's bad?" She twists the ring harder. "What if he tries to take you away from me?"

i won't let that happen

Her shoulders drop a little and she picks up the pillow again, cuddling into it. A few words write themselves across it just so she can feel their warmth and she rubs her cheek against it. "Don't you miss them?"

all the time

A melancholy that isn't hers hangs in her chest and she squeezes the pillow again. "Then should I? They miss you too, you know. I think they'd be happy to, you know, hear from you again."

The words fade and the wall glows again as he thinks. She lets him have his time, rubbing the ring back and forth, listening to the slight rattle it makes as it spins around her too-small finger. When she hears the familiar soft scratch again, she looks up.

they're happy now, i don't want to ruin that

"They're not happy," she can't help but say, "they still miss you."

content, then

"You wouldn't be ruining anything," she argues, "I thought—I thought I'd never get to see you again after I got out of there. The day I heard you again? That was the happiest moment of my life."

mine too sweetie, or my un-life i guess

The words glow brighter as her fingertips glow too. She gets up and lays her hand against the wall, smiling as their powers dance together. "I really think they'd be happy."

A pulse of warmth runs up her arm to her chest as the words shift once more.

when you think the time is right

"I'll tell you, I promise."

i'm so proud of you, Rose, i love you so much

"I love you too."

That time doesn't come on their terms, though, because that would be easy. No, instead it's when she and Chris are over at Mom's house for dinner and Chris asks a question out of nowhere that almost makes her spit all over the table.

"What?" Mom asks as Rose glares a hole in Chris's stupid forehead.

"I said," Chris says like an unrepentant asshole, "who's Michael?"

"Michael?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Rose mutters, staring down at her lap.

"I was coming to get you for training last week and you were talking to someone called Michael." Chris takes a bite of steak and talks with his mouth full, like an asshole. "So who is he?"

Mom elbows her, winking. "Someone you like?"

"What? Ew, gross, no!"

Chris and Mom just laugh and Mom elbows her again. "Don't worry, I was your age once too. That's how I reacted when my mom asked me about my crush."

"Michael isn't my crush!"

"Boyfriend, then?"

"No, he's not my—" she covers her face and sighs. "He's not my boyfriend, he's not my crush, he's not someone from school, happy?"

"So who is he?"

Well, fuck it, no time like the present. She pushes back from the table, muttering about using the bathroom. They wait until she's halfway up the stairs to start talking again, their voices low in that way where she knows they're still talking about her, but she pays them no mind as she goes into the bathroom and shuts the door. She braces her hands on either side of the sink and takes a deep breath.

"I'm guessing you heard all that."

The words swirl up right below the mirror.

yeah

"I mean, it's not like we'll get a better opportunity."

probably not

"Are you ready?"

are you?

She rubs at the chip in the linoleum and turns on the cold water, just to make sure there's no milky sweat on her hands. "I'm nervous."

me too

"No matter what happens," she says firmly, "no matter what they do or say, I'm here for you, okay? I've got your back. I love you."

i'm so proud of you, sweetie, i love you too

The words glow cheerfully against the weird tile pattern and she reaches out to touch them. They share a moment before the words fade and she takes a deep breath, squaring her shoulders in the mirror and nodding to herself. "Right. Let's do this."

She marches back downstairs and Mom and Chris do a horrible job of pretending not to be nosy and expectant. She sits back down and folds her hands in her lap.

"I'll tell you who Michael is," she begins, "but you have to promise not to tell anyone else."

"I promise, honey," Mom says, miming zipping her lips shut.

"Chris, you promise too."

Chris looks at her for a moment like he's going to disagree, then he winces as Mom kicks him under the table. "I promise too."

"Good." She takes another breath and reaches for the ring around her neck. The second she brings it out from under her shirt, Chris's silverware clatters against the plate and Mom inhales sharply.

"Rose," she says shakily, "where did you get that?"

"Before I said yes to joining you," Rose says, "I met K outside the lab. He told me there might be a way to get rid of my powers for good."

Chris frowns. "K never said anything like that to me, what do you—"

"I'm getting there. He took me to the lab where there was a piece of the Megamycete, and said that—"

"He what?"

"Will you both just listen to me?" The two of them quiet down. "Thank you. So, like I was saying, he took me to see the piece of it and said that there was a purifying crystal that Miranda discovered that could take the mold out of someone. All I had to do was look through the Megamycete's index of consciousness to see if I could find it."

"That's incredibly dangerous, Rose," Mom says quietly, and Chris looks like he's trying to strangle his fork. "Please tell me you didn't—"

"I wanted them gone," she interrupts, looking at her Mom, "they were—I was just a freak with no friends. Someone offered me the chance to be normal, are you telling me you wouldn't have done the same thing if you were a teenager?"

Mom looks at her for a long moment, but she doesn't disagree. Rose squeezes the ring and keeps going.

"It wasn't that easy, obviously. It was…really hard. And really scary. I had to fight my way through these, like, twisted versions of the places in Miranda's village, like that big castle and the creepy doll house, and there were all these versions of me that kept getting killed and tortured, I fought a version of Eveline too—"

"Rose," Chris tries to say but she doesn't let him.

"—but I had help," she continues. "There was something helping me. It helped me figure out where to go, what to do, gave me a gun and taught me how to use it. There were these glowing words that would appear when I needed them most and it…it was like having a guardian angel."

"Michael," Chris says, and she nods.

"Yeah, I called him Michael. He—he kept trying to get me to leave, said that it wasn't safe, but I wanted to find the crystal and so he helped me. And then we found out K wasn't actually K and it was all a trap set by Miranda—"

"It was what?"

Chris is already getting up. "Is she still in there? Do we need to—"

"Sit down, Chris, it's fine, we beat her. She's dead now, like, really, actually dead. She crystalized and turned to dust, I saw it."

His face still looks like he ate a lemon, but Chris sits slowly back down. He exchanges a worried look with Mom and she puts her hand on Rose's shoulder. "You said 'we?'"

"Me and Michael." She looks down at the ring and turns it over in her hand. "Until I found out who he really was."

Mom gasps, a small and shuddery thing. She holds her hand over her mouth and stares at Rose. "Ethan."

Chris makes a noise too as Rose nods. "Yeah. It was him the whole time. He…he protected me. From Miranda, from Eveline, from everything."

"He loved you so much, honey," Mom whispers, her eyes growing wet, "he never stopped loving you."

"He showed me our house in Romania," and to her horror, she can feel her voice growing thick too, "with all his memories. I heard his voice, Mom, he—he wrote me a letter, did you know?"

"Yes," Mom says, trying not to sob, clutching her shoulder, "yeah, honey, I know. He cried so much while he was writing it, he wanted you to get old enough to read it with him, oh, Rose…"

She swipes a hand under her nose and turns to Chris, who's doing that big, tough, I'm-too-manly-for-my-emotions-right-now thing and reaches for him too. After a moment, his hand turns and covers hers. He's trembling. "He taught me how to fight, Chris. We—we fought together. He shot the monsters in the face with a shotgun and gave me his power so I could kill Miranda, once and for all."

Chris swallows heavily. "Your dad was…he was one of the best men I've ever known, Rosie. He would be so proud of you." He sniffs. "You said he shot them in the face with a shotgun?"

"Mhm."

"Yeah, that sounds like Ethan, alright." Mom laughs and it sort of sounds like a sob but she and Chris are smiling now, so it's okay. Chris looks back at her and nods a few times. "So you were talking to him, then?"

"Yeah. When you walked by on Tuesday, I think it was…yeah, we were arguing about whether the original Blade Runner was better than 2049." She wrinkles her nose. "He said the original was better but I like the remake."

Chris frowns. "What do you mean, he said—"

The words scrawl over Mom's dining table, illuminating their faces.

i like the classics, that's all

Rose would laugh at the way Chris almost falls out of his chair if his hand and Mom's weren't trembling. She looks at Mom, who stares at the glowing words, and at Chris, who looks like he's about to be sick.

Mom breaks the silence first. "…Ethan?"

The words move, now right next to her forgotten plate.

hi honey

"You're—you're—"

bad at staying dead?

Mom's breath leaves her like she's been punched in the gut. "Oh, Ethan, I—I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry—"

breathe, it's okay

She squeezes Mom's hand as she takes a few shaky breaths. "What—how is this possible?"

rose

"We're both part of the mold," Rose says when Mom looks to her, "he's…he's using my part right now, we're sort of sharing it."

told her i'm not a scientist, figured you'd get it :)

"No one uses those anymore," Mom mumbles and Rose whispers a quiet told you so! as the smiley turns to a frowny for a moment, before the words change again.

i know it's been hard, i'll always love you

"Oh, Ethan," Mom whispers, reaching out to touch the words. She gasps as a flicker of warmth pulses through them and Rose squeezes her hand again. "I miss you."

i miss you too

Another glow flickers up next to Chris, who startles and stares down at the words in shock.

you too

"E-Ethan, I—" he cuts himself off as the words swirl again.

thank you for taking care of my daughter

Chris swallows heavily. "She's incredible, Ethan. You should be proud of her."

always am

"I'm sorry," Chris whispers, and something in Rose's gut clenches at how close to tears he looks too, "if I'd been faster, we could've gotten you out of there, we could've…"

it's okay, Chris, we're all okay

"You're dead."

i died in 2017, doing pretty well considering

"He is really bad at staying dead," Rose adds, "Miranda said so too. You should've seen her, she was so mad at us."

Chris looks like he's having a hard time deciding whether he wants to laugh or cry. The sparkles swirl again.

she's a fighter, she gets that from you too

His free hand jerks and Rose squeezes the one in hers. "You can touch, Chris, he won't bite. That's my thing."

it won't hurt, promise

Chris takes a deep breath and slowly touches the words. His breath leaves him in a rush as they glow warmly under his fingers. Rose smiles as she feels the mold connect all of them there, in that moment, through her and Ethan. Some part of her clicks into place. As if he can feel it too, which he probably can, another set of words appears in front of her.

we're so proud of you, Rosie

"Yeah, yeah," she mumbles as she feels heat rush to her cheeks, "shut up."

no :)

Mom laughs. "We finally have all three of us together again and you want us to not tell you how proud we are of you?"

"They've got a point, Rosie."

"I'll break your nose!"

"No, no," Mom says as Chris squawks, even though she's still smiling, "no breaking Chris's nose."

even if he deserves it

"Hey!"

As they all laugh together, Ethan's words still glowing in the warm, quiet house, Rose sits back in her chair and twists her dad's ring around her finger. Sure, being a mold bioweapon teenager was weird, but if this is the family she gets to have because of it, it can't be all bad.

[mikurulucky]

Tochiro hyperfocuses like a goddamned champ. I wonder how many times he forgot to eat while he was tinkering with stuff or building the Arcadia. How many times did Emeraldas and Harlock end up giving him food thinking "Yo, you forgot to eat lunch a few hours ago, so I brought you this".

The times he feels he NEEDS to do something and stubbornly sticks to that thing, whether it's fixing the ship when he needs to rest after an injury or it's driving through a disease/cancer causing wormhole to fix Emeraldas's ship, or wandering off to a random western town to find his people in Gun Frontier despite Harlock and Shinunora telling him "Bro, you're gonna get yourself killed!"... it's numerous.

He's like my black cat endlessly looking for his toy mouse because it's his favorite. If he's got something he needs or wants to do, he's dead set on it until it's done. I imagine in the case of tinkering, that might've lead to moments where he ended up staying up all night only realizing he did so after randomly looking at the clock and realizing "Oh shit, I've been tinkering with this machine for literal HOURS!! O_O" and going to bed at like the crack of dawn. I know I've done that many times lol.

I wonder if that's part of the reason he rarely bathes in some timelines lol. The other part maybe being executive dysfunction or a negative association with past bathing incidents like someone forcing him to bathe and being too rough with him.

(I do suspect that that, the lack of motivation, and the fact there's only like ONE bathing area in the boarding house could be why Nobotta hardly bathes unless he's made to bathe, and the landlady's attempts to make him bathe probably only exacerbates that issue long term. As for his unwillingness to wash his boxers... idk maybe that was to save money, like forgoing a trip to the laundromat in favor of buying food?... or more boxers??? As if that's cheaper somehow??? Idk, I liken Nobotta's endless buying of boxers to my doordash addiction thanks to having less energy to cook half the time lol. And the mushrooms seem to be the result of rain leaking into his closet, as moisture DOES lead to the development of mold and other fungi after a while, and you DON'T want that. Nobotta's just lucky the mushrooms that grow on his boxers are actually edible inky cap mushrooms and not something poisonous (yes, I do believe they're supposed to be based on the inky cap mushrooms Leiji found growing on one of his clothing once and fed to, iirc, the creator of Ashita no Joe?). Eating those mushrooms is still kinda cursed tho lol.)

[billthedrake]

MY SON'S PORN LIFE (PART TWO)

I held on to Travis's shoulders and fucked harder. My son and I had been having sex for the last two months, each time I came to Chicago, and it was like we couldn't get our hands off each other. Sneaking in a fuck or a blowjob before a business meeting, or holing up in Travis's condo or my hotel room for a marathon session.

But up till now, the sex had been gentler. I'd seen my son let loose in a couple of his OnlyFans videos, but part of me didn't want to treat him like a porn star or escort. He was my son, my only son, and for all that I'd learned about him, for all that had developed between us, I was still a protective father.

There was still Trav's buddy Mike in the picture. MusclePupXXX, who I banged a couple of times recently. I didn't want him to suspect anything between me and Trav, I suppose. Besides, I got a kick out of the way that compact muscled dude egged me on. I leaned to get very physical with Mike, and the more I did, the more he seemed to crave it. It was hot, animalistic sex, like I never had with my wife. I may be a schmuck and a half, but I was enjoying the hell out of my mid-life crisis.

I'll blame the fact that it had been five solid days since I'd gotten off before my early November trip to Chicago. I told Kate I had a day of meetings I didn't had and honestly said I was tacking on an evening to hang out with our son. That gave me three whole nights in Chicago. I'd probably have time for MusclePup Mike if Travis didn't drain me dry.

I met my son at his place, and not only did he look just incredible, his sweater and jeans molded to his porn-star body just right, Travis had that look in his eye. Horny. Hungry. I'd stopped feeling guilt about fucking my son. This was just too powerful and addictive.

We tried to kiss softly at first, a peck with some gentle tongue. Travis actually laughed when he pulled back.

"What?" I asked.

His blue eyes twinkled. With a sly grin he reached down and cupped my erection through my jeans. "I love your dick, Dad."

That got a deep groan out of me. I felt my chest puff out and my hips adjust their stance in a little swagger. "Yeah, buddy?"

Trav bit his lip and nodded. He seemed almost shy now. "I've been thinking about you ravishing. You know, really tearing into my ass."

The next kiss wasn't soft, at all. My mouth pressed hard against my son's and my tongue plunged right in. I was now walking him back into his place, toward his bedroom. That five-day-load impatience calling the shots.

We stripped quickly, eyes eating each other up. My son was a month away from his 26th birthday and I was a couple of weeks from my 53rd. Even beyond the taboo of our sexual affair, I wondered what a hot stud like him was doing with an old fart like me. But Travis was rock hard, Viagra hard as he peeled down his jeans, showing he'd gone commando with nothing between that beautiful dick and his clothes.

"Ready for an incest fuck, Dad?" he growled, peeling down the bedsheets.

My own dick twitched at those words. I actually thought of getting a Viagra prescription to keep up with my son's sex drive on these trips, or Muscle Pup Mike's for that matter, but so far I hadn't needed it. "Gonna fuck my own son," I hissed, getting into the thrill of vocalizing this for the first time.

My words made Travis's nostrils flare. He reached in the nightstand and grabbed some lube, then tossed it to me. "Don't use too much," he instructed. "I wanna feel that Dad cock entering me."

"You'll feel it, buddy," I grunted. This was like the primal connection I had with his porn-star buddy Mike. Only better.

We were gonna get whisker burn from how hard and deep we were kissing, but we couldn't help it. Our bodies met on the bed and we made out roughly, rolling around like we were fighting for dominance. Maybe if Travis had made a move on me, I would have let him try. I'd been thinking idly about that possibility, I had to admit, even if I didn't feel ready for a guy to fuck me. Not yet.

Thankfully, Travis needed me in him. As I rolled on top of him, he needily wrapped his legs around my waist and humped up into me. We ground against his perineum and crack and moaned into our rough kiss.

"You drive me wild, son," I hissed.

Travis's hands clung to my naked body. My son was strong, all right, and the legs seemed to pull me in tightly.

"No foreplay, Dad," Travis his. "Just put that dick in me."

I managed to apply some lube to my prick and push it down. Not a perfect aim at the ultimate target, but Travis met me half way, moving his hips to line up my dad dick. The slickness and Travis's professional hole were a match made in heaven. I enjoyed working my way inside him. Gentle mini pulses of my dick at first, then actually penetrating my son.

"Incest fuck?" I prompted once I breached my son.

Travis's eyes went open. The dimples disappeared from his face as he reacted in ecstatic surprise, but it was the same, cute as fuck Travis. My blond hunk of a son. "God yeah. Fuck me Dad. Fuck my hole." He gripped me even tighter, drawing me in. "I can't get enough."

"Me either son," I replied. Now openly pounding him. "Look forward to every goddamn Chicago trip."

My hips were a mile a minute and Travis was there with me for every one. Looking up into my eyes with love and lust and a hunger I don't think I'd even seen in his best videos.

"How you want it, Dad?" he asked me about a minute and a half into that treatment. "How you wanna fuck me?"

"This is good," I said with lust clogging my voice.

"Hell yeah, it's good," Travis grinned, those dimples coming back. Fuck. "But you got JakeTheJock in bed with you. How you wanna do me?"

I had to stop my fuck, suddenly.

Travis looked up excitedly into my face. "You cumming, Dad?" he asked, turned on, but maybe impatient at my quick trigger.

I shook my head and let out a deep breath. "Not yet. But almost," I said. "Fuck!" I looked down at my son. Trusting and willing. I ran my hands along his porn body. I knew what I wanted. "I keep thinking of that video you did with Cornfed Daddy," I said. I'd confessed to Travis that I watched his videos, but we hadn't done this either, talk about them in bed.

But his reaction made me feel ok for bringing it. He was downright proud of being a stud who had sex on camera. "Yeah? Which one?"

"The last one," I said. "The one you posted a couple weeks ago. You on all fours, Cornfed Daddy railing you hard." It was lewd to talk to my son this way, but that was part of the turn on, for sure.

He gave me an affectionate smile. "Dad, you don't have to be jealous..." he started.

"I'm not fucking jealous, son," I growled, maybe a little too aggressively. I slowly pulled out and showed off my slickened erection. A match for my son's porn-star dick. "I just have a five day load in these balls and I need to pound it off, bad."

"Oh fuck, Dad," Travis hissed, scrambling out from under me to get on all fours on the mattress next to me. He'd kept his body lightly tanned, from the tanning bed or his trips to Palm Springs or Spain or wherever, I didn't know. I just know he was a muscle stud offering himself to me. I got behind him and ran my hands along his bare flesh.

Travis arched his back into my hands then hiked his butt up back at my crotch. "This what you've been dreaming about, Dad? Railing me from behind?"

"Fuck yes," I hissed, my cock was rigid and I ran it against his lightly furred crack and over his hole. Sometimes Travis shaved completely smooth but lately he'd been letting the blond fur grow back in. I loved it both ways.

"Don't fuck me like your son," Travis urged, his voice getting needy now. Fuck me like JackTheJock. Or like you fuck Mike."

I'd have to have a conversation with my son about how much he knew about me and Mike - or worse, how much Mike knew about me and Trav. But I wasn't thinking with my head right then. I just wanted to fuck. My dick pressed back into Travis.

"God yeah," my son urged. For a dude who'd started off as a total top in his videos, he could be an eager, skilled bottom, too.

"Take it," I urged, now holding onto Travis's shoulders and leveraging my cock in and out of his now opened hole in fast succession.

"How many times you watch that vid, Dad?" my son asked me. "The one with Cornfed Daddy."

"Lost count," I answered. "Couple of times a day. It's my favorite." It was wild to talk about this with my son.

"Make me forget him, Dad. Fuck me better than Steve does."

It was the first time I'd heard Cornfed Daddy's first name, and something about that tripped my competitive urge. I really went at it. Railing Travis. Dumping my load in him. Fucking his own cum out of his balls.

We collapsed on the bed in a sweaty puddle next to one another, exhausted and catching our breath. Finally we gripped each other's hands and looked at one another, meeting each other with a broad smile.

"Didn't go to hard on ya, did I son?" I asked. Maybe too late to ask that question.

"You came pretty close," my son joked. "But it was incredible." We met in a kiss, gentle this time. My dick wasn't going down but I lost that urgency from just now.

"I don't wanna intrude on your private life, Trav..." I started.

"Please," my son said. "You've watched all my videos, Dad. You can ask anything."

"So... are you dating anyone?"

My son actually blushed. But he answered honestly. "Not exclusively, but I've been kind of seeing Steve for the last year."

"Cornfed Daddy?" I clarified.

"The very one. He's a nice guy, really. He kind of plays up the dominant thing on camera."

"I'm happy for you, son," I said.

"Jealous?" Travis asked with a teasing smile.

I exhaled. "What do you want me to say, son?"

"I want you to say you're jealous." He turned to face me and ran his fingers along my upper body. There was something so unbridled about Travis's embrace of his sexuality. It intimidated me and inspired me both.

"OK, I'm jealous," I admitted.

Travis gave a contrite expression, like he realized maybe we were entering dangerous emotional territory. He reached down and touched my penis, still full and heavy on my belly. "For what it's worth, you fuck better than him, Dad."

My dick twiched. "God, Trav," I hissed. My son had a way of driving me wild.

"My turn for a question," he interjected. "What's going on with you and Mike?"

I turned on my side to face him. "What do you think is going on?" I prompted. I had to know how much Mike talked.

"I'm not dumb, Dad," Travis said. "I'm pretty sure you're fucking him. Just wasn't sure if there was anything else."

"Nothing else," I said. "I don't think Mike's the dating type."

"That's what people assume about porn guys," Travis said thoughtfully. He looked over at the clock. "What time is dinner?" he asked.

"At 7," I answered.

Travis grinned and scooted up to me. His hard body damp from sweat. "In that case, we have time for another round, Dad."

I met him in a kiss and wrapped my arms around my son. This time would be a slower fuck. I actually felched for the first time, eating out Travis's soft, fucked pucker and tasting my own seed there. I took my time, getting off on the intensity of the act and the nastiness of it, too, before I leaned up and placed my son's calves on his shoulder. Then I fucked him a second time. Sensual, steady thrusts into him, as I looked down on him and silently urged him to give it up for his dad. No words, just a silent, physical connection, father to son. I made sure he came first, then I gradually ramped up my last thrusts to get the necessary stimulation to orgasm. His eyes on me, full of wonderment at watching his father cum, were enough to get me across the finish line.

We showered together, no longer in fuck mode. At least I was pretty damn spent. As I soaped Travis's muscle I had a deep appreciation and envy of his body. "I need a personal trainer," I said, articulating an idea that I'd been entertaining for a while.

"You're hot as fuck, Dad," Travis said, reaching out to feel up my own dad bod. "But if you want, I have a couple of trainer buddies in KC..."

"They in the business?" I asked, partly out of curiosity, partly out of concern.

Travis shook his head, laughing. "No, straight as an arrow. Guys I knew from highschool football. But they could get you into whatever shape you wanna be."

"Your mom's gonna.." I said, before I stopped myself.

Travis knew why. I tried not to acknowledge my infidelity in words. "It's OK, Dad. Like I say, guys have needs. You're not gonna leave her are you?" I could see behind his sexual sureness he still looked at me as his parent, in addition to his lover.

"No, Trav, I'm not leaving her. I'm not going to win husband of the year award, but she's not going to find out." I'm not sure how I was so sure of that fact, but I was. Maybe because the scenario was so wild and implausible, that Kate couldn't possibly suspect it.

The put my son at ease. We soaped up more and shampooed our hair, then rinsed off.

"Dad, are you really jealous about Steve?" Travis asked as we dried off. Maybe now that it was no longer in bed, he had more concerns.

"Not really," I answered. "I mean, if it really bothered me, I wouldn't be watching those videos over and over, would I?" It was incredible how I'd gone from shy to up front about discussion my addiction to Travis's OnlyFans site.

"I'm pretty good in those, right?" my son grinned.

I stepped up and placed my hands on his hips, standing face to face. My dick was plumping up again. Maybe I wasn't completely spent. "The best. You're sex on legs, you fucker," I growled and kissed Travis again, softly.

Looking back, that visit was a turning point in my and Travis's relationship and a huge turning point in my life.

[loquatenjoyer69]

a get to know you better meme

I was tagged by @qserasera, what a surprise and kind of an honor, thank you

do you make your bed? No lol I sleep in a nest of blankets

what's your favourite number? My "favorite" I guess is 7, but "my" number has always been 4 so that's what I (usually) pick for everything. Sending 4 emojis, picking the fourth thing, etc.

what is your job? I teach metalsmithing (jewelry, not blacksmithing)

If you could go back to school would you? (smiling through tears) I'm still there (college) but no. I have regarded school as the house of the devil and a factory of suffering for many years now. I'm just trying to get my degree so I can get better jobs lol

can you parallel park? No, I don't like cars or driving so I don't partake.

a job you had that would surprise people? Idk, I think many people are often surprised by my current job, but other than that I don't think there is one.

do you think aliens are real? Yeah in a sense, like it's more likely than not that other lifeforms exist in the universe. But I don't think any have come to earth sadly :(

can you drive a manual car? See above lol. But my mom wanted to teach me once

what's your guilty pleasure? I try not to be ashamed of things I like but one thing I regard as a guilty pleasure is like, sometimes I listen to music that I don't think is very good but it's catchy and I just like it. Usually it's like new pop hits and stuff. I don't consider it to be representative of what I listen to and I don't play it around other people lol but yeah

tattoos? Yep, I have two, both done by myself when I was fifteen LOL... But I've been thinking about doing another one because I had another idea and I don't have money ha ha ha....also I just like doing it I like doing art who woulda thunk

favourite colour? I feel obligated to say red (and its associates) here since it's literally the only color I wear that isn't black...but it's just because that's kind of my brand. I like most colors, it would be easier for me to say which colors I don't like.

favourite type of music? I like all kinds of music, but the categories the music I listen to the most fall into is like, rock/metal (stuff with really nice guitars and drums), folk/indie, and electronic. I like music with good lyrics, and if it doesn't have good lyrics it has to sound good to me.

do you like puzzles? Does anyone not??

any phobias? I don't think so, just icked out by normal stuff like mold and spiders and stuff sometimes.

favourite childhood sport? I didn't get to do sports when I was a kid, that's why I do them now B-)

do you talk to yourself? Nope, and for a long time I was convinced that talking to yourself was just something that was done in movies and TV to show what a character was thinking. I didn't believe anyone actually talked to themself in real life, when no one is around. I also didn't talk/narrate my play as a kid if I was alone because well...I know what's happening, I know what my toys are saying, why do I need to speak it out loud? But I narrate my actions when I'm around other people, that's separate.

what movie(s) do you adore? I really like Peking Opera Blues, it's probably my favorite movie of all time...or at least my favorite live action movie. Also I like JCSS (the 1973 film), and as for animation, all the Cartoon Saloon movies, but especially Secret of Kells which pretty much shaped me as a person and Wolfwalkers which I've always kind of wanted to do like, an essay on but never got around to.

coffee or tea? I drink tea the most, I really never drink coffee but I like the taste. Just, caffeine makes me really shaky and sweaty and doesn't actually make me feel more alert so the drawbacks are not worth it most of the time.

first thing you wanted to be growing up? When I was in preschool I said I wanted to be a firefighter but that wasn't something I held onto long term. I don't think I really had a childhood dream occupation.

tagging @joelletwo, @versaphile, @treecakes, and @ladsofsorrow24 if you guys haven't done this already/want to do it