Shroomsq Daddy — Better

He stood where the mycelium net split into neon fractals, wearing a velvet robe stitched with spore-print galaxies. His voice wasn't sound. It was a sub-bass hum that softened the edges of your fear.

And somehow — somehow — falling felt exactly like being held. Want me to adjust the tone (more humorous, more erotic, more surreal) or turn this into a poem or dialogue instead? shroomsq daddy

“Then rewrite it. I’ll be the root you break against.” He stood where the mycelium net split into