#The Way The Socket Socks

[theblackestofsuns]

“The Way The Socket Socks”

Maggie The Mechanic (2007)

Jaime Hernandez

Fantagraphics Books

[cy-cyborg]

Tips for drawing and writing amputees: The prosthetic needs something to hold onto

Prosthetics need to be able to hold on to the body.

If you're giving your amputee something similar to 99.99% of modern prosthetics, this will be done through a socket. This is a ridged cup made perfectly for the amputee that holds the prosthetic onto the body. Older prosthetics (mostly anything before the 90's) made the prosthetic socket intentionally tight in spots, which is what held it in place. Some people with sensitive skin still use this style of prosthetic but they've mainly fallen out of use in favour for suction sockets. These sockets create a vacuum seal that holds the prosthetic in place. These can work in two ways, either just by forcing excess air out of the socket and creating the seal that way, or for some legs, sucking that excess air out and into an "ankle" mechanism to offer some extra suspension and padding in the step.

Some prosthetics will also use additional measures as well as suction, such as pin-locks, where the amputee wears a sock with a screw at the bottom that clips into a mechanism at the bottom of the socket, or a prosthetic with movable panels that can be tightened via cables running through the socket.

I've used all of these except the pin lock socket, and they all have one thing in common: The sockets need as much space as possible. For prosthetics using suction in particular, this is to spread out the amount of force being applied to the leg. If all the suction is being applied to the end of the stump, it's going to get sore and could even damage the skin. If that same amount of suction is applied to a much wider area, it's going to feel less intense. Likewise, older prosthetics needed as much space to work with as possible too, as applying tight pressure to a small area as opposed to a larger surface to keep the tension isn't good for your skin or muscles in that spot.

For this reason, the sockets will take up all of the space available without limiting movement, meaning they will go all the way up to the next major joint. An amputee who lost their hand through the wrist will have a socket that goes all the way to their elbow. An amputee who lost their leg through or above the knee will have a socket that goes all the way to their hip.

Sometimes, if an amputation is particularly close to a major joint and there isn't a lot of space left between the stump and the next major joint, prosthetists will opt to immobilise the closest joint and take the socket all the way up to the next major joint. This was something I've actually discussed with my prosthetist. My left leg is amputated below the knee, but I only have a few centimetres of space below the knee. That leg occasionally needs revisions, meaning they take the very tip off of the stump to help correct issues with weird bone growth, scarring, infections etc, but if I get another revision, my leg will be too short to comfortably wear a socket, so my knee will need to be immobilised and my leg will become, functionally, an above knee amputation, despite still having the joint. This is rare, but it happens on occasion, showing that sometimes that need for space trumps even the use of a still functional joint. It's really important.

I wanted to bring this up because I see a lot of people draw sockets on their amputee's prosthetics, but they're much too tiny to be comfortable!

I did mention most prosthetics use a socket, but not all do. Some old prosthetics did not have sockets and were held in place using other methods.

This is a "prosthetic" my prosthetist found in his company's back room. He's not sure when it was made, but together we came up with an estimate of it being made around the 70's for a through-hip amputee (meaning someone who's whole leg was amputated with no stump at all)

It's designed so that the user would rest their hip on the cushion and use the handle to hold it in place and move it in time with their walk. This kind of mobility aid isn't often used anymore (me nor my prosthetist have seen one out in the world), and seems to have faded in use during the 80's as sockets were invented that could better hold onto the hip and pelvis for through-hip amputees and the use of wheelchairs for amputees became less stigmatised.

There's also A new type of prosthetic has been developed called the Osseointegration prosthetic, which also doesn't use a socket either. These are very rare as they are incredibly expensive and still very risky, but these prosthetics bypass the socket and implant the prosthetic directly into the body through a rod planted inside one's stump bone. This rod has a clip at the end of the stump, so the external part of the prosthetic can be removed as needed (and replaced). The reason they are risky though is that they are EXTREMELY prone to infection. I only know one person who had this implanted successfully, but he has to be very careful to keep his leg clean or else it will get infected (and it frequently does, he's constantly on antibiotics). Everyone else I know who got it had to get it removed.

With time these implants will get safer, but we are a very, very long way off from that right now.

[luveline]

dad!eddie taking care of you after a fainting spell? and hugs from both munsons please ♡♡ tysm

dad!eddie x reader my love <3 not quite a fainting spell but he takes care of you after a shock!! (almost step mom!reader) 2k

Eddie's daughter, Roan, is screaming from the very top of her lungs. You shoot up in bed, your heart racketeering out of your chest, just begging to burst you open and have you dropping dead right there in the bedroom as you shoot onto your feet. You rush to the top of the stairs, and the closer you get the more distinguishable her words are. 

"We will ROCK!" she's shouting, accompanied by punctuating metallic thuds, wooden spoons against pots and pans. "Because that is what rockstars do! Hold on to your SOCKS!" 

Eddie chuckles from somewhere near her, though through his laughter he says, "Ro! You'll wake Y/N up, baby, you can't be shouting!" 

"She needs to get up already it is nearly the afternoon," she says, with a fierceness only harmed by her disjointed pronunciation. 

"But she was up last night with you, you meanie," Eddie says. 

Roan bangs a pot. "Dad, it's not nice to call people names. You'll give them a col- a compel- a complex," she insists. 

"It's not nice to wake people up when they're sleeping." 

"You wake me up every day." 

You make your way down the stairs as they talk, your heart thud thud thudding against your ribs even though the danger you'd imagined is firmly non-existent. 

"And you keep me up at night. Wanna call it even?" Eddie's asking her. 

You walk past the front door and turn down the hall leading to the kitchen. Roan is sitting on the kitchen floor surrounded by all your pots, and Eddie's sitting at the small dining table with a mug between his hands. He's looking at you before you make it into the kitchen. He must've heard your steps down the stairs. 

"Hey, what's with the face?" he asks. "Are you alright?" 

Are you? Your heart is pounding still, it won't slow down, and your head feels heavy like all the blood has rushed and stayed there. You turn your face to Roan on the floor, in her darling, purple silk pyjamas, her hair nicely brushed. Eddie's bathed her and changed her: last night she looked like a wreck, cotton jammies stained with milk dribbles and melted chocolate chips, her hair a frizzy halo. 

"Roan," you say, "are you okay?" 

"I'm rockin'!" she cheers. She stretches a little foot your way, frilly socks to the ankle. 

"Hey," Eddie says gently, standing up from his chair, coffee mug set aside. He crosses the kitchen, stepping carefully over Roan and her drumset, an expression you've never seen before on his face. "What's the matter?" he asks, hushed, his face hidden from Roan's view. 

"Nothing, I–" Your head throbs with a sharp pain, an ache behind your eye socket. You duck your head. "I don't know what's wrong," you admit. 

"Hey, hey, hey," he says, still so gently. "It's okay. You're okay. Come and sit, okay? I got you." 

You cover your eyes with your hand. Eddie leads you swiftly to a chair in the kitchen, pushing you into it by your shoulders. 

"Roan, baby," he says, "do daddy the biggest favour in the world, yeah? Will you go and get that big fluffy blanket from the living room?"

"It's so heavy," she says dubiously. 

"Drag it, baby." 

Roan jumps up to leave, accidentally kicking one of her drums as she goes. The sound is like an ice pick right into your soft brain. 

"Hey," Eddie murmurs, running a cautious hand down your back. He's bent awkwardly, trying to meet your eyes. "What's wrong, babe? Are you faint?" 

"I don't know what happened. I heard the shouting," you say, licking your lips. "I thought something happened, so I got up, and I realised it was just her having fun but my heart won't stop." 

Eddie puts his hand down your shirt without comment. It's big and warm, covering the top of your breast methodically. His thumb rubs at your collar, one slow steady line. 

"Take a deep breath, baby. It's not too fast right now."

"Sorry," you say, and maybe you're freaking out more than you thought 'cause his comfort makes your eyes water, your apology strangled and weak. 

He shushes you. You'd feel guilty for making him worry if you weren't so conscious of your aching head. 

"It's okay. She's fine, she was shouting about making music like I used to. Roan's okay, and you're okay." His hand presses firmer to your chest. 

"I know, I'm sorry." 

He wipes your tears before they can fall. He isn't as gentle as he usually would be, the few times you've cried in front of him marked by the lightest of touches, and that's your only clue that he's panicked too. 

Roan moans and grumbles as she pulls the blanket into the kitchen, having carried it across the back of her shoulders, a length of it falling into her eyes. 

"It's sooo heavy, daddy," she says. 

"And you're soooo strong." He holds your eyes for a second, an unspoken promise that he's not going anywhere for long. 

He turns to Roan and pulls the blanket off of her head. He kisses the top of her head twice, says, "Thank you muchly," in his Animal voice to make her giggle. 

You don't realise you're shivering until he's wrapped the blanket over your thighs and around your sides. He tucks it between your back and the back of the chair to keep it up, and he stays squatting in front of you with a searching gaze. 

"You're okay." He waits for you to respond with nothing but patience in his eyes. "Hey," he says, tone infused with lightness, hand rubbing roughly at your covered thighs, "it happens to me. It used to happen to me all the time, when she started walking and she'd get out of bed by herself in the mornings before I was awake, she'd climb and she'd– she'd fall." He laughs happily. "She got hurt sometimes and I hated myself. But I got better at knowing when she was up, my amazing dad senses would kick in. I'd get an itchy arm in my sleep and I'd know she was doing something she shouldn't be doing. I think you got a couple of years worth of that all in one go." 

You exhale hard, your head falling toward his. Your foreheads smush together none too gently, but he doesn't say a word after that. He curls his hands behind your neck. 

"What's wrong?" Roan asks quietly. 

Eddie gives your neck a squeeze. "Nothing," he says, leaning back. Roan's looking at you both with a concern too old for her face. 

"You guys look 'spicious. Are you having the bad head ache again?" she whispers. 

"A little bit," you tell her, not really lying.

"Sorry, was it my music?" 

"No. No, princess, it wasn't your music. I woke up with it." 

Eddie licks his lips. He sits down on the floor from his squatting position, hand around your ankle, and doesn't have to beckon for her. Roan drops into his lap and gets immediately hugged to his chest. 

"It's not your fault, but when we were shouting we woke her up, and she thought something bad happened," he explains. 

"Oh. Sorry." 

"No," you say quickly. 

"It's alright," Eddie seconds. "It's nice to say sorry when we make mistakes, but you didn't mean to, and it's not your fault that it scared her, you know? I just want you to know what's wrong." 

"It wasn't you, Roanie," you say, frowning at her crestfallen expression. "Promise. Pinky promise." 

You hold out your pinkie. Roan takes it. You shake your joined little fingers together gently. 

"Well, I won't play any music again," she says. 

"Maybe not for now," Eddie agrees. "But if her headache goes away quick then we can play tonight. Maybe we'll do karaoke!" 

"Yes," she says, though she goes shy, and turns around in Eddie's arms to wrap herself around his neck. Her face dissapears into his long hair. She whispers something you can't hear. 

Eddie lets go of your ankle to pull her in tightly, his hand big enough to cover the majority of her small back. 

"I'm not mad at you," he says, like he's answering a question. 

"I didn't mean to make her feel sick," she whispers. 

"You didn't. It's just a shock sometimes, hearing big noises when you're sleeping. Like when you fell down the step outside of Uncle Wayne's trailer last week. You remember how weird that felt? You didn't hurt yourself, but you were scared. It's like that." 

"Oh, right." 

Roan pulls away from her dad and moves to stand up, but she changes her mind and gives him a quick second hug before she does. Then she climbs off of his lap and turns on the spot to you, her puppy dog eyes wide and soft at the edges, her eyebrows pulled up at the starts. She looks so much like her dad.

"Is it a dark headache or a light one?" she asks. 

You blink at her. "Um…" 

"'Cos sometimes you turn the lights off. Dad can put the shutters down." 

"Oh," you laugh. "No, babe, it's not that bad. The lights need to stay on, anyway, so I can see your beautiful, gorgeous face." You push a curl behind her ear. The older she gets, the straighter her hair becomes, like the weight of it is pulling it down. The ends curls up still, and it looks lovely when it's freshly washed like this. 

"You're beautifuler," Roan says, blushing at the attention. 

"No way, you're the most gaw-juss girl in the world." Prettiest, loveliest, smartest. Isn't that why you'd been as terrified as you were, worrying something bad happened to her? 

"Isn't she prettiest?" you ask Eddie. 

"Why do you girls do this? You have arguments and then I end up in trouble. If I say it's Roan, you'll punch my guts, and if I say it's you you'll both punch my guts. Either way, I get a gut punch and you guys make me grovel." 

"So choose the right one," you say, easing your hands under Roans armpits. 

You pull her into your lap and twist her so you can put your chin over her head. Your eye still aches with a constant shooting pain, but it’s not so bad, and Roan's nice-smelling hair and tiny fingers petting your arm makes it manageable. 

"No. I refuse to choose."

"So neither of us are pretty?" you ask lazily, hiding your face in Roan's downy hair. 

He gasps. Roan gasps. He knows you've set him up and he flicks your ankle. It's code for I'll get you back. 

"Dad, we are pretty!" 

"I know you are! I never ever said you weren't, mom's setting me up!" 

You beam. Mom, interchangeable to both of them with your name, not always used, is a delight to hear. You certainly feel like her mom when you're having conniptions over her safety. 

"No," Roan says loudly. You tamp down a wince. "Mom's sick, you're settling up yourself!" 

Eddie grabs your ankle again, his fingertips breaching the cuff of your sweatpants to feel your calf. 

"You're both equally gorgeous. Now don't ask me again, I need to make breakfast." 

"Okay," Roan says, turning in your lap to push her face against your collar. "Make breakfast. We are hungry." 

You look down at her with a bunch of different feelings. Happy she's alright, entertained by her delivery even if she doesn't mean to sound so deadpan funny. And astonished, most of all, that she loves you. That they love you.

Eddie kisses the top of your head. "Feel better?" he asks. 

"Yeah," you say. You feel much better now. 

—

more eddie and roan ♡ pls reblog if u enjoyed love u!!

[flowerandblood]

Rip my heart, heal my soul

[ Jack the Ripper • modern!Aemond x female ]

[ warnings: sex content, smut, angst, stalking, violence, mention of murder and body mutilation, manipulation, obsession ]

[ description: Driven by his hatred of women, who in his opinion are mere whores, Aemond delights in killing them when they least expect it - during their rapture with him. He meets a girl whom he chooses as his next target, but it turns out that this time he is the victim of a feeling he has never known before in his life. Murder, mutilation of his victims, obsessive, poetic, dark!Aemond. ]

This oneshot is an Anon Request and is created with Halloween in mind, so unlike what I usually write, these fisc will be very dark and uncomfortable. Keep this in mind before you start reading.

Next chapter: Rip my heart, heal my soul (2)

Aemond Inside Alphabet

*English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy!*

My others works: Masterlist

_____

He hated how two-faced women could be. With what ease they pretended to be sweet, innocent, warm, looking at him with dreamy eyes, only to fuck him a few hours later like common whores in their flat, moaning loudly like butchered animals.

He loved to see their expressions of surprise when they suddenly felt a fishing lines tighten around their neck as he fucked them from behind, choking them while smiling broadly, pleased to hear them stop making those sickening sounds, trying helplessly to grab air in their lungs and only then did he cum with a sigh of relief.

He loathed them.

He abhorred them.

Women like them laughed at him when he was in highschool, when he lost his left eye. They avoided him, calling him a cyclop, a monster, considering themselves superior, beautiful inside and out.

He knew how simple their mechanism of action was − all they had to do was meet a well-built, mysterious, charismatic man and they were all wet, suddenly forgetting about his artificial eye, ready for him to fuck them anywhere and any way.

They wanted to be the unique ones, the special ones.

They kept repeating to him that they weren't like other girls and he looked at them with a smile, nodding.

He'd gouge their eyeballs out of their eye sockets, grinning to find that it suited them to look like this − suddenly they seemed to be some kind of terrifying beasts, demons from the innermost abysses of darkness that had come to devour him.

He quartered their bodies with cleavers, packed them in great black sacks into which he placed stones and drove many hours ahead, finding some lake into which he threw their remains, their empty shell, as he liked to think of them.

His first target was his schoolmate who mocked him, but then he began to observe women and girls outside clubs, hunting down those who behaved similarly, pretending to be inaccessible, hard to get.

He knew this was nonsense, a cover for a guy to want to try harder.

Because of what he did, he changed his address frequently, catching light seasonal jobs. Mostly he was employed in cafés, because there he could observe people, often finding new targets. Women would frequently pretend to come to work there with their laptops, but would glance at him surreptitiously, checking if he was looking at them.

One day he heard the ringing of a bell hanging over the door and felt hot in his chest at the thought that this girl was perfect.

She was wearing an oversized pastel jumper, light-coloured shorts and mid-thigh-length woollen socks, her hair partly pinned back − a typical sweet pastel girl making big eyes, thinking he didn't know who she really was.

She smiled warmly at him as she approached the counter, but he didn't reciprocate the gesture and looked at her expectantly, throwing a cloth over his shoulder in a gesture of impatience.

"Good morning. A large hot chocolate, please." She said softly, pulling her small rucksack off her back, searching in it for her wallet.

As she opened it, looking in it for banknotes, he saw out of the corner of his eye a student card from a university an hour away from their town and pressed his lips together, thinking it was a perfect match. He scooped her order onto the till and glanced down at her − she reached his shoulder height.

"Anything else?" He asked indifferently and she shook her head, undeterred by his coolness she was still smiling.

Stupid bitch.

"No, thank you." She said calmly, and he told her the amount she had to pay. She placed in front of him exactly as much as he had said, and he walked over to the machine and busied himself filling her order.

"Did you come here on holiday?" He asked her, standing with his back to her. He felt her move uncomfortably, surprised by his question.

"In a way." She said lightly, but added nothing more. He handed her a cup and she took it from him − she looked him in the eye and thanked him, then sat down by the window, setting down her chocolate, pulling a laptop from her backpack.

He wandered between tables cleaning them and collecting orders from other guests, glancing at her screen out of the corner of his eye each time, wanting to find something that might give him a clue as to who she was, what she was doing.

He saw that she was constantly typing something in an open text document with quick, sure movements, clicking loudly on the keyboard, taking a sip of chocolate once in a while. When their gazes met she smiled slightly at him, but immediately went back to work again.

Despite his hopes that she would order something else, after half an hour she packed up and left, wiping her table with her handkerchief beforehand and bringing him her empty cup, throwing over her shoulder to wish him a good day.

He felt all tense and bit his lower lip, knowing exactly how he would spend the evening.

As soon as he entered his flat he opened the internet browser on his laptop and typed in the name of her university − it was a private institution of higher learning, so she either had to have an outstanding academic record or a great deal of money.

Another fucking nepotistic child, he thought with amusement and mockery.

He started browsing the university's website, her Facebook page and Instagram hoping to see her somewhere, but found nothing. The only thing he found out was that the university specialised in the humanities, psychology, history, literature.

That would explain why she wrote so much.

He felt impatience and frustration when she didn't come for days, unable to concentrate, thinking only of her. Standing outside the clubs, smoking a cigarette, he caught himself not observing what was going on around him at all, replaying for the hundredth time her visit to the café, her smile, her cordiality, the fact that she had cleaned up after herself so he wouldn't have to.

He knew it was all just a shell, underneath which there was only disgusting meat.

He couldn't hide the gleam in his eye, the grimace of satisfaction that ascended suddenly on his face and disappeared a moment later when he saw her again in the doorway of the café − this time she was wearing a summer blue dress, her hair tied up in a braid. She walked up to the counter and ordered the same hot chocolate again with a smile.

He felt he needed to start any light conversation.

"Wouldn't you prefer something cooler for such a hot day? We have freshly squeezed juices." He suggested, looking at her out of the corner of his eye. She cocked her head, curious, and hesitated, involuntarily pressing her lips together.

He looked at them, at their pink, fleshy, moist texture, at her slender, long neck, and swallowed loudly, feeling his trousers pulsing at the thought of tightening the noose on her.

"Do you also have orange juice?" She asked softly and he nodded.

"Of course." He replied lowly.

"In that case, I'll have the juice." She said, taking out her wallet again − this time his attention was caught by the small photos she had slipped into a translucent pocket, a picture of some boy, a dog and an older man.

He wondered if she had a boyfriend and furrowed his eyebrows as he pressed half an orange to the juice squeezer, recognising in his mind that this would complicate things a lot.

He set the glass in front of her and took the banknote she handed him.

"Thank you very much for your suggestion." She said lightly, with a wide, warm smile and satisfaction in her eyes. She moved ahead to the same table as before and took out her laptop again, starting to type something.

He circled around her for half an hour until he finally decided he couldn't stand it.

He walked over to her table with a cloth and spray, pretending he had to wipe the top, and she picked up her laptop, wanting to help him and make some space.

"Do you work even on holidays?" He asked her indifferently, and she blinked, surprised by his question. She grunted quietly, correcting herself in her seat.

"I have to publish academic articles if I want to keep my place at university. But I like doing it." She said, shrugging her shoulders, not even a trace of displeasure on her face. She put her laptop back on the table when he had finished, and he analysed quickly what she had said.

So it was a scholarship after all, she wasn't paying tuition fees.

"What are you writing about this time?" He asked feeling that this was his only chance, glancing at her nervously, wondering if he was crossing the line or being too persistent. She lifted her gaze to him and cocked her head.

"I'm writing an article on the prose of Edgar Allan Poe. Do you know him?" She asked lightly, and he involuntarily bit his lower lip at her question.

Prose in which men cut out their beloveds' entrails, collected their teeth, confessed poems over their cadaverous faces, professing infinite love for them, raging with desire, with despair, with the darkness that was tearing them apart.

Of course he fucking knew him.

"Yeah. It's a pretty dark choice." He admitted, looking at her, recognising with surprise that it didn't match either her clothes, her manner or her personality. She giggled at his words, placing her elbows on the tabletop, not taking her bright gaze off him.

"It is true, however, there is something captivating about him. His darkness is filled with pain, his inner struggle, as if he still lived in agony even when he loved, even when he seemed happy. Each of his poems, each of his stories, is a dark work of art that I could analyse endlessly. He is an inexhaustible source of inspiration for me." She finished her explanation and he stared at her with his lips pressed together, feeling the heat in his lower abdomen and the pulsing in his trousers at her words, thinking that he was about to throw himself at her like an animal.

She was perfect.

"Which of his stories do you like the most?" He asked finally, feeling with surprise that his voice trembled slightly, his heart pounding like mad.

He had the feeling that he was looking at her as if something possessed him.

She thought about his question, lifting her gaze upwards and hummed under her breath.

"Black Cat. This is his first story I've read. I couldn't get over it, had trouble sleeping afterwards. I promised myself I'd never go back to it again, but I couldn't stop thinking about it and ended up reading the whole book." She said with a smile and some kind of excitement.

"And yours?" She asked, continuing their exchange, and he felt a tightening in his throat at the thought that he had succeeded, that he had intrigued her.

"The Fall of the House of Usher." He whispered, thinking of the woman locked in the coffin alive, unable to get out, whose moans were heard by her own brother, but he chose not to help her, horrified by what he had done.

He thought that perhaps he too could lock her up like this, keep her to himself, only not underground, not in a coffin, but in his arms.

He shuddered when an impatient customer called out to him if he was going to serve her, and he gave her a furious look.

"Of course." He said lowly, walking up to her, asking what he could help with.

Usually if someone frustrated him so much, spoke to him in the way she did when she paid him, complaining about his tone of voice, the way he looked at her, he would find her and do to her what he did to everyone else.

However, now that he had met her, he didn't want to have to change his residence again and decided to hold back.

He saw with a squeeze in his heart that she had closed her laptop and started packing.

He didn't want her to leave.

She approached the counter and he felt a squeeze in his throat, his whole body tense.

"I'm very sorry this woman treated you this way. I worked as a waitress last year too and I know what a thankless job it is. Don't worry about it. See you later." She said lightly and waved at him. He led her away with his eyes, watching as she disappeared around the corner throwing him another happy smile.

From that moment on, he felt that he was completely crazy about her.

He stopped going under the clubs and stalking other women, decided he didn't need to waste his time with whores when he found her, his Berniece, Morella, Eleonora, his muse, his dark inspiration, his elusive lover, the object of his desire and desperate, hot affection, his obsession.

Never before in his life had he felt so wonderful; he felt as if his insides were filled with fire.

After what she had told him, he realised that she must have been studying fiction, and he searched for academic works published on the internet about Poe's poetry, hoping to come across her name by chance.

He was not mistaken.

He involuntarily licked his lower lip as he typed another name into the browser and her Facebook profile picture came up.

He bit his lip as he entered her profile, seeing that apart from basic information as he wasn't friends with her he couldn't see much else. However, he already knew that she was three years younger than him and that she was in fact studying fiction.

He went back to her article, starting to read curiously, wanting to see if she really was that good, if her words weren't just haughty, populist feminine gibberish.

The Black Cat is the story not of a madman who murdered his cat in an act of rage. It is the story of a progressive illness and trauma, a proceeding inner agony and schizophrenia that the main character is unable to cope with, his mind and his feelings measured against his animal aggression, his desire to vent his urges and frustrations purely physically. He begins to lose his memory, able to wake up suddenly in a different place, not knowing what he was doing a few days before, losing his grip on reality completely. It is very likely that the other cat he sees does not exist at all, is merely a figment of his imagination, his remorse, his progressive illness. The protagonist, falling into a spiral of his own madness, is unable to distinguish between his imagination and reality, terrified and filled with aggression like a feral animal he collapses into himself, eventually leading to tragedy, in his madness walling up his beloved wife. We observe a phenomenon of slow dehumanisation, the protagonist discarding piece by piece all sorts of brakes that on a daily basis stop us from sudden, brutal, cruel acts, leaving only pure reactions, filled with anger and frustration. Despite his actions, the reader, being inside the protagonist's head, involuntarily sympathises with him, understanding that he cannot control how his own mind, that he cannot stop the inevitable, that he is doomed to fall apart completely.

He swallowed loudly, feeling the dryness in his throat, stroking his chin with a nervous, anxious hand gesture, wondering why his heart was pounding so much, why he was so tense.

He thought he felt as if she had written about him, as if she had looked into the depths of his inner emptiness and described with tenderness and care what was happening to him.

He bit his thumb thinking that he felt understood, not judged, that there was warmth emanating from her text and what she wrote.

He thought with horror that he might have fallen in love with her.

He waited for her every day, taking more shifts at work than he had to, afraid that he wouldn't be there that day when she came again.

He felt a tickle in his fingers at the thought of seeing her again, of talking to her again, of looking at her soft, happy face.

When, a few days later, she walked into the café in a black top and shorts, he felt immediately what he saw in his trousers, ready to fuck her in his back room.

He thought he couldn't treat her that way − she hadn't done anything through which he should show her such disrespect, treat her so objectively.

She approached him with a light, pleased smile, her eyes shining. He thought, feeling heat in his chest, that she was glad to see him.

"Good morning. I'll have the same delicious juice as last time, please." She said in a soft, warm voice and he swallowed quietly, the corner of his mouth twitching in a smile, which didn't escape her notice.

"Coming right up, ma'am." He said softly, and she blinked, shifting from foot to foot, he had the impression she was blushing. She lowered her eyelids meekly, her eyes covered by a veil of her lashes, looking down at her hands.

He tried to focus on his task and prepared her juice, handing it to her and she gave him a banknote.

"Further article writing today?" He asked her in a calm, light tone and she nodded.

"Yes. Would you like to read it? I like to hear other people's opinions, maybe give me some advice, or hint at your observations." She said softly, no undertone or attempt at flirtation could be heard in her tone of voice.

This turned him on even more.

"I would love to. Unfortunately, working here, I won't have as much time to sit down and read everything at once." He said uncertainly and she waved her hand, smiling broadly.

"I don't mean to disturb you while you're working. Give me your email if you want, I'll send you my file." She said with a smile and he nodded, pulling a piece of paper from a drawer and quickly writing down his address, feeling his hands tremble.

He couldn't find the words with what excitement he was waiting to hear from her.

He paced around his flat taking deep sips of coffee, feeling the adrenaline coursing through his veins, his heart pounding like crazy.

He refreshed his messages once in a while, and when he finally saw a message from her he sat down rapidly at his laptop, opening it quickly.

Hi, thank you very much for deciding to devote your free time to me and reading what I have written. Feel free to write me what you think, perhaps you have some comments or suggestions. I am sending a PDF of the article as an attachment. Greetings!

He swallowed loudly, immediately opened the document she had sent him and began to read − this time she was dwelling on Poe's love literature and he felt hot at the thought.

She wrote about how he describes women in his prose, seeing them as phantoms, statues, demigoddesses, elusive to him, being his constant object of boundless adoration bordering on madness.

He agreed with everything she wrote, but one thing caught his attention. He thought for a long time how to put his thoughts into words so as not to scare her away.

Hi, you've done a wonderful job, I'm very impressed. It's great to read what you write and I agree with almost everything you've written. However, I am puzzled by the wording you used when you question the sincerity of his feelings, assuming that what the protagonist felt towards his women was not in fact love, but only an obsession for an unmatched ideal, that he did not see human form in her. I disagree with this statement looking at the fact that when she ceased to be this ideal, when she died his interest in her did not diminish, his feelings did not fade and his despair only widened. I think his obsession stemmed from his emotionality, from loving her too much, from not being able to draw a line, sinking into his feeling instead of taming it. I hope you don't find what I've written upsetting and don't take it as criticism. Once again, very well done. Greetings.

He sent it at last and stood up, walking around his living room as if in a trance, on the one hand filled with euphoria that he had had contact with her, that he had been able to talk to her, on the other terrified by what he had written, that he had evinced in those words a hint of who he himself was, that he had shown her too much.

He started to feel anxious when he didn't get any reply for half an hour and literally threw himself at his laptop when suddenly an unread message from her appeared glowing white in his inbox.

He clicked on it quickly and began to read, licking his lips.

Your observation is quite interesting and I partially agree with your statement. I think it is true that a feeling on the part of the protagonist cannot be ruled out, as his inner dilemmas often concern matters of beauty, his remarks on the smallest details of their appearance or behaviour that rejoice him every day. Indeed, perhaps my assessment was too harsh. What I mean is that I believe − but this is my subjective opinion − that when it comes to true love, even when it is wrapped in obsession, the safety of the beloved should be the overriding thought, the priority, and yet sometimes the protagonist chooses his desire, his psychosis at the expense of the object of his adoration, who, after all, he supposedly loved. If I were to be loved I would want to be able to feel safe and not wonder every night if my beloved would clamp his hands around my neck and strangle me whispering that he loves me.

He felt a shudder seeing her last sentence, reading what she had written again and again, feeling the heat in his chest, his heart pounding like crazy, feeling the tension in his trousers, his cock pulsing hard.

If I were to be loved I would want to be able to feel safe and not wonder every night if my beloved would clamp his hands around my neck and strangle me whispering that he loves me.

He thought that he would never hurt her.

That he would make her feel safe, kissing every inch of her beautiful, soft body with adoration every day, enclosing her in the embrace of his arms, protecting her from the darkness of the whole world, including his own.

He didn't know what he should answer − what she had written seemed so private, intimate, his hands hovered over the keyboard in uncertainty.

If he could he would find her, go to her and not fuck her, but make love to her all night.

He would have cuddled her close and whispered reassuringly to her with each deep, peaceful thrust of his hips, stroking her soft, warm skin, sinking his hands into her hair, drawing in her scent with his nose.

He quickly unbuckled his belt from his trousers and unzipped them, put his hand under the material of his boxers, grasping his throbbing, hard manhood, the tip of which was already leaking his wetness.

He began to jerk himself off with quick aggressive strokes, panting hard, closing his eyes, thinking about what he would do to her, how tender he would be, how much he wanted to be affectionate, for her, just for her.

He came with a low, helpless moan, panting loudly, resting his forehead against the top of the desk he was sitting at and swallowed loudly, concluding that he had never felt anything like this before in his life.

He took a quick shower afterwards, thinking hard about his answer. He sat down in front of his laptop in only his trousers, his hair still wet, opening the window beforehand and lighting a cigarette, taking a drag thoughtfully, then began to write.

In this case, too, I have to agree with you. You don't really love someone if you can't protect them from themselves. The protagonists fight each other and fail, but does that mean that they didn't really love, or however, is it simply madness that prevails, the fear that fate will take their beloved away from them, so in order not to feel that fear anymore, they end their life first? Whatever it is, they are driven by despair.

He finally wrote and sent the message, letting the smoke out loudly with his mouth, shaking the ash from his cigarette into the ashtray standing by his computer. He received a reply from her after about fifteen minutes and managed to make himself a cup of tea in the meantime.

I think that's the key word in understanding their dilemma. Despair. Their beauty, their wonderfulness frightens them, they can't bear how much they love them. They are despairing that while their affection may be eternal, their bodies are not so, cruelly destroyed by time, that every second brings them closer to their death. This realisation seems unbearable to them. I will amend this paragraph and expand on what we have been talking about. Thank you very much. Will you be at work tomorrow?

He blinked, reading the last sentence, tightening his lips, writing back quickly.

You're welcome, it's been a pleasure. Yes, I will.

She wrote him back after a moment.

In that case, I'm glad. See you tomorrow!

According to what she wrote she came the next day. This time it was he who smiled at her first, and she reciprocated the gesture, walking up to the counter with a light step.

"The article has been sent. Thanks to you I think it's perfect. If you don't mind, I would like to invite you to a temporary exhibition at the museum as a token of my gratitude. It concerns neo-Gothic illustrations for horror novels, including Poe's, and I thought it might interest you." She said, lowering her gaze with a kind of embarrassment, playing with her fingers, and he felt a shiver go through him, his legs suddenly as soft as cotton wool.

Was she asking him out?

He swallowed loudly at the thought feeling like his heart would rip out of his chest.

"When?" He asked absentmindedly, glancing down at the glass he had just poured her juice into, his hands trembling. He saw that she lifted her gaze to him, hearing with hope that he hadn't declined her offer.

"And when do you have the day off?" She asked softly − he could see from the corner of his eye that she was smiling, embarrassed and happy at the same time. He felt a squeeze in his stomach at the thought and a heat in his lower abdomen.

"Tomorrow."

Women often invited him to meetings and he came to them with relish, braiding them into his web, but this time he was terrified and flustered inwardly, outwardly maintaining his icy mask.

He combed his fair hair back, put a black turtleneck, black trousers and a watch, and decided he looked good enough − elegant but at the same time not pompous.

When he arrived at the agreed place she was already waiting for him in front of the entrance, waving at him − she was wearing a light summer strapless dress, a small rucksack on her back, part of her hair braided at the back of her head.

She ran up to him with a smile and they stood in front of each other, unsure of how to greet.

"Hi. Here, this one is for you." She said, handing him his ticket without suggesting a hug or a handshake.

Her approach was very open, but physically she kept her distance.

The fact that he couldn't touch her was driving him crazy.

They both entered a beautiful neo-baroque building that must once have been a small noble residence and followed the signs. They stepped across the creaky wooden floor into a black room lit only by spotlights set on each of the works on exhibiton.

For the most part, they were etchings and lithographs with depictions of agony, death, loving embraces, figures full of anxiety, ghosts, symbolic scenes, executed with great precision and care. They both bent over each work, looking at it carefully, not rushing anywhere, wanting to analyse exactly what they were seeing.

"Amazing how artists can capture the spirit of prose, isn't it? Looking at it I immediately feel what the author wrote about, the same anxiety even though I don't have the text in front of me." She said quietly with some kind of admiration.

He listened to her but had trouble concentrating, smelling the pleasant scent of her girlish, floral perfume.

"Mmm." He hummed under his breath and nodded in agreement, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye. He saw that she was looking at him too and they both turned away, embarrassed.

He couldn't help himself − his hand involuntarily burshed hers as they moved on to the next piece of work − he felt her flinch, but she didn't move away.

He heard her quietly draw in air as his fingers tentatively intertwined with hers, he felt like his heart was going to jump out of his chest. He pressed his lips together as he felt her fingers spread, allowing him to grab hold and they watched further.

He didn't let go of her hand then or when they left the building, talking about what they'd seen, pretending that nothing had happened between them, that it was a simple friendly gesture.

He saw that her face was all flushed, her gaze lowered, a gentle, warm smile of happiness on her face. He felt a squeeze in his heart at the sight, at the thought that he was not repelling her, that she was not disgusted by him.

He walked her to the tenement where she rented a room and immediately memorised the number, knowing in the back of his mind that he would surely be passing this way often over the next few weeks. They looked at each other and he wondered if she would want him to kiss her, to go inside.

He wanted it and didn't want it at the same time.

"I hope you had a nice time. Thank you for everything." She said softly looking at him at last, her eyes big and filled with something that made him hot, their fingers still entwined in a light, non-committal embrace.

"Very nice." He murmured, looking down at her thoughtfully, at her soft, pleasant face, at her pink lips and red cheeks. She swallowed loudly and let go of his hand, embarrassed.

"Goodnight." She whispered and opened the wicket, closing it behind her.

"Goodnight." He replied and led her away with his eyes, watching as she opened the door and disappeared behind it. He stood and waited to see where the light would turn on, and after a moment the warm glow of the night light illuminated a room on the second floor of the house.

From that day onwards, she spent long hours every day in his café, not knowing that every evening he arranged to walk around her townhouse, watching her window from afar, sometimes seeing her silhouette as she walked from place to place, or as she opened the window to let in some cool, fresh air.

Since he met her he has not killed anyone.

Since he met her he had felt no need to kill anyone.

She filled his every thought, his every breath, the vision of her and her face brought him sweet relief, the touch of her hands, their entwined fingers kept him awake.

He felt that they had formed a bond, that she reciprocated his affect − he could see it in her gaze, in the way she smiled at him as she crossed the café door and spotted him behind the counter.

One day, he couldn't stand it and such a direct proposal came out of his mouth that he felt embarrassed for himself.

"I need to spend an evening with you or I'll go crazy." He said standing over her table and she looked at him surprised, her cheeks lit up with a hot blush.

She lowered her gaze, knowing exactly what he wanted, what he was implying, and swallowed loudly while he looked at her helplessly thinking only of the fact that he was an impatient idiot.

"I need that too." She confessed and he tightened his lips at the words.

That same evening he found himself at her door.

When she opened it for him he clung to her lips as if starved, enclosing her cheeks in the tender embrace of his hands. He pulled away pressing his forehead to hers, her gaze at once fearful and thirsty, warm and dreamy, her lips twitching slightly in uncertainty.

"− I know −" He whispered, kissing her again, capturing her lower lip between his own, releasing it with a loud click, her fingertips running through his hair. "− I know − I won't hurt you − God, I would never hurt you −"

He was delighted by her sweet, innocent sounds as he placed slow, tender kisses on her neck, her shoulders, as he laid her down on her bed, running his fingers over her body, taking his time, letting her calm down, letting her feel that he would not take her by force, that he would wait as long as she needed.

"− it's okay − it's okay −" He whispered soothingly, running his hot lips, swollen with desire, over her soft skin, laying between her thighs, letting her feel how hard he was, how much he needed her.

"− oh −" Rippled out of her mouth when she felt it, and he chuckled under his breath, delighted by her reaction. He raised himself up on his elbows and looked at her face, running the tip of his nose over hers.

"Will you let me kiss you down there?" He cooed, lowering his hand to her bare thigh, running his fingertips over it, feeling goosebumps forming where he touched her. She nodded, and he hummed before kissing her again.

They undressed slowly, unhurriedly − as he lowered the straps of her dress and exposed one of her breasts he began to place tender, light, butterfly kisses on her skin, barely brushing her with his breath, feeling her breathing fast, her lips parted in delight.

She helped him pull off his black t-shirt and his trousers, and after a moment they were both wonderfully naked, like Adam and Eve in paradise before they picked the forbidden fruit.

He looked at her adoringly and kissed her deeply, passionately − she reciprocated his gesture, weaving her delicate hands into his hair, drawing him close, his chest pressed against her breasts.

He began to slide his lips down her sternum, to her navel all the way down, leaving a moist, sticky trail of his saliva, feeling her writhing beneath him with arousal.

With a gentle, slow movement, he spread her thighs in front of him and noticed her glowing, sticky folds from with her moisture dripping onto the sheets beneath them.

He didn't hesitate for a moment − with a groan of pleasure he pressed his lips to her heat, running his nose over her puffy clit, his tongue slipped tentatively between her fleshy walss and tasted in a circular motion what was between them. Her wetness and her taste spilled over his palate, her whole body trembled, her hand tightened on his hair, a shy cry came from her throat.

"− shhh −" He hushed her tenderly, sinking deeper into her hot flesh, his tongue with sure, intense flicks began to invade between her slick folds, licking and rubbing her upper wall just at her entrance, feeling her hidden, spongy spot from which her thighs trembled in his hands.

"− please −" She mumbled, but he shushed her again, knowing exactly what she needed, how he should caress her.

He'd been thinking about this for weeks.

He let her come on his face, felt her body lean back with a loud, pleading whine, trying to push him away − a purr of satisfaction escaped his throat when he felt how much of her moisture flowed out of her and he licked it all off with devotion, teasing her over-stimulated, throbbing walls.

"− such a good girl − you did so well −" He praised her with admiration and heard her sigh of pleasure. He kissed the inside of her thigh rising up, wiping his face, placing his hands on either side of her head.

"− I need to feel you − alright? − I will take it slow −" He breathed out and she nodded, allowing him to grasp her hips in his hands and entwine her legs around his waist.

When he guided the fat head of his cock against her opening she moaned helplessly, trying to fit it in. He kissed her tenderly, pushing against her, stretching her throbbing wet walls with himself.

"− that's it − ah − I know, baby − I know −" He muttered, hearing her moan of effort, trying hard to take in what he was sliding into her, pushing her insides to their limits − her body tensed like a string, one of his hands on her hip, the other holding her cheek, his forehead pressed against hers, her hands entwined around his neck.

They both sighed loudly when he finally filled her fully, feeling her core clench hungrily against him on all sides. He slipped his tongue between her lips as he slid out of her slowly, only to fill her to the brim again with the buck of his hips, their hands clenched tightly on their hot, naked bodies.

"− yes −" She gasped and he groaned into her mouth, feeling his cock pulsate inside her hungrily at her words, his thrusts faster but still calm, deep, his thighs slapping against her buttocks with a sticky slaps.

"− just like that − oh, baby −" He groaned loudly losing control, slamming into her faster and more aggressively, her head tilted back, her eyes clenched shut, her mouth wide open trying to catch air loudly, her breasts bouncing up and down with each of his thrusts.

He felt her hands tighten on his hips, her body reaching out and literally impaling herself on him, her walls clenching against him driving him crazy.

"− yes − please −" She sobbed pleadingly, as if she was going to cry, as if she was going to die if she didn't experience fulfilment with him.

He slipped his tongue between her lips, their kisses sticky, greedy, the tips of their tongues teasing and licking as his cock pounded into her brutally with every sure, deep thrust of his hips.

"− fuck − m' close −" He uttered, and she stroked his hair, reciprocating his kisses with tenderness and devotion, clamping her hand on his buttock, directing him deep inside her, as if that was where he belonged, as if the fact that he was taking her would be the most natural thing in the world.

"− yes − please − inside me −" She mewled, and he growled loudly at her words, letting go at last and coming inside her so hard that for a moment he went dark before his eyes. Their bodies were still moving towards each other in involuntary motions when his warm cum spilled into her hot core, giving him a feeling of fulfilment and peace.

He opened his eyes with difficulty and looked at her face, finding to his surprise that she was still alive, that he had not strangled her, her breasts rising and falling in accelerated breaths, her gaze warm and hot, her lips trembling slightly. She lifted her hand and touched his scarred cheek, running her fingers over it.

"− you are so beautiful −" She whispered, and he felt a tightness in his throat at her words, unable to get the phrase out, enchanted by the sight of her, so he merely breathed loudly, letting himself be touched by her.

He couldn't find the right term, the right confession to describe what he felt for her.

He kissed her all night, finally feeling accepted, beautiful, loved, her tender hands stroking his hair, his cheeks, his body all night, praising him, telling him how good he was, how tender he was.

He whispered to her that she was beautiful, that she was his Eleonora, Ophelia, Helena, that he would never hurt her, that she would always be safe with him.

When he returned the next day to his flat, he packed his knives, his fishing lines, his photographs, his mementos of the murders into a big box and drove for hours, finally turning into the woods.

He poured everything he had into a big hole − dozens of blank white eyes, photos of women, their documents, phones − and doused it all with petrol, then threw a light inside and watched his past burn.

Finally, he buried it all back, covering it with mulch and moss and drove back the way he came, promising himself that he was done with it, that he would change for her.

That he would protect her.

From the world.

From himself.

_____

Next chapter: Rip my heart, heal my soul (2)

[wonwoosthetic]

series masterlist

word count – 13.8k

a/n – you guys are really loving this omg😭😭😭 I’m so grateful, thank you thank you thank you🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍 just a little side note: I haven’t been able to watch anything past EP2-4. yet, I’m SO BEHIND, I KNOW😭 but I didn’t want to not upload since I promised it to you guys! So pls just know, that EP2-5. will be added at a later point probably next week ˙ᵕ˙

Go Together NANA TOUR EP2 🌷Minnie

parts written in italics were out of camera shot ˙ᵕ˙

EP2-1. Good Morning

Gathered around the table, the idols passed each T-shirt to the designated member until everyone was in possession of their personalised top for the show. Minnie had gotten her own as well, holding it up to look at her name in big black letters printed across it. Before her eyes even found the little icon that was different for each singer, Joshua had looked over her right shoulder and caught a glimpse first.

"Aww!" He pointed at the shirt, making her look down, finding a small drawn mouse holding onto a much bigger flower, what appeared to be a tulip.

"Oh my God, that's so cute," she smiled at the clothing item, before turning her head to the producers, "Thank you!" Beaming at them with a bright smile.

After they all got to admire their T-shirts and got a hold of a charger for their own, the group split up again to their designated rooms. Next on the list was getting bedtime ready. After not having lived together as a group all together, the idols had almost forgotten about the struggle of sharing a bathroom. The apartment they were staying at had two, thankfully, but still... 13 people and only two showers... it was about to get stressful.

Thankfully, sleeping in a room right next to one of the bathrooms, Minnie got the privilege of being one of the first members to wash up. She had washed her hair and went through some steps of her skincare routine with the products in the pouch she had taken with her from the plane. While the rest of the members were looking for time slots to jump into the shower, she was on her bed, now in the shorts and shirt provided by the producers as she put on a clean pair of socks, not wanting to walk around in shoes anymore or barefooted.

She had her hair wrapped up in a towel, trying to dry it as much as possible as she had yet to find a hairdryer. After a few minutes of looking around the flat, she had given up the search and retreated back to her room, using the towel to squeeze out the last drops of moisture that were left in her long hair. That's when Mingyu suddenly walked in, making her turn around to look at him.

"What are you doing?" Minnie asked him.

The rapper passed her, and crouched down right behind her, "Your room is the only one with a socket close to a mirror." As he stood back up, the girl's eyes dropped to the device his hands were clinging on. So that's where the hairdryer had suddenly gone. Mingyu turned it on and started drying his hair with the hot air, brushing through it with his fingers.

Minnie got up from the bed and walked over to him. With her hand on his upper arm, she looked up to meet his gaze through the mirror.

"Can you leave the hairdryer here after you're done?" 

He must've not understood her probably, the blasting air being way too loud, as he turned to the side, subconsciously crouching down slightly as he had done so many other times before.

"Huh?" He raised his eyebrows in wonder.

"Leave the hairdryer here when you're done. I need it too," Minnie raised her voice to speak clearer before moving away to walk out of the room.

A sudden soft grab of her arm made her stumble back slightly. Looking back, she glimpsed up at her fellow '97 Liner, who motioned for her to turn around. With a gentle push on her back, she turned, now facing the door. Only a second later, Mingyu had moved the hairdryer from blow-drying his own hair to hers, using his fingers as a brush to detangle some of her strands. Carefully, he moved some of her hair to the side, splitting it up into sections, to make sure he was drying it correctly. Minnie moved her head along, leaning it to one side, so the hair would stay in the position Mingyu had put it in.

Once she noticed, it was getting harder for his fingers to glide through her strands, she turned around to stop his movements. Pointing over to her bedside table, he found the brush the girl was trying to tell him about. He handed her the blowdryer for a second as he walked over to get the brush, only to hold it in his own hands a few seconds later, getting back to help her with her hair.

The two members moved in complete silence the entire time. No talking, only grinning at each other through the mirror at most or Mingyu mouthing a 'sorry' whenever he'd get stuck on a knot in her dark mane. The only time either one of them had opened their mouth to speak was when Wonwoo appeared in the doorway, smiling over at the duo before knocking on the bathroom door. He asked who was inside, but had only gotten an incoherent answer back, so Minnie had to help him.

"Jeonghannie-hyung!" She called out to the '96 Liner, who turned to glance at her with awaiting eyes, asking her what she had said.

"Jeonghannie-hyung is in the bathroom," she repeated louder, getting a nod back in return.

-

After most of the members had each finished their shower, they moved on to brushing their teeth, which turned out to be another hurdle as there was only one tube of toothpaste. They had somehow managed to get a little bit for each one of them, brushing their teeth while walking around the apartment or sitting in their rooms.

Finished with everything, and even almost completely dry hair, Minnie had found herself in the kitchen, sitting between Wonwoo and Jeonghan, while Hoshi had taken a seat on the opposite side of the table, his toothbrush still dangling in his mouth. In the middle of their conversation, Dokyeom walked out of his room, joining the small group of four. He stopped by the table to look at his fellow members.

"It would be too greedy to ask for hair essence, right?" He asked everyone.

Right away, a nod and a hum came from the rapper, followed by an agreeing, "Yeah," from the Vice-Leader.

Minnie chuckled softly, "What? No, it's not. I asked for some too," turning towards the '96 Liner to her right before glancing over at Dokyeom again. "I put it in the little pouch on my bed. You can use it."

"Really?"

The girl nodded, "Of course."

[sharing is caring with SEVENTEEN]

As soon as the main vocalist left the room, Hoshi spoke up, "Wishing for too much is not what a vacation is." His voice still muffled by the toothpaste foaming at his lips. "You need to give up on things you can."

The girl leaned back with a deep breath in, stretching her shoulders. "Some of us just want to still look presentable. Even if we're on vacation."

"You shouldn't worry about that," the performance leader commented back.

"If I didn't use any hair essence, I'd look like a lion," the girl stated, referring to the long mane on her head, that would quickly turn into puffy dried weed if not being taken care of properly.

With scrunched eyebrows, Hoshi took the toothbrush out of his mouth, looking at her in confusion. "What's wrong with looking like a lion?" To which Minnie could only shake her head with a chuckle, the other two members following her, laughing along at the sound of pure offence coming from the '96 Liner.

-

Most of the group was already snuggled up in their individual beds. Only a few were still walking around, cleaning up after themselves or laying out their clothes and wet towels to dry somewhere in the apartment. Wonwoo and Dino had found comfort in sitting in the kitchen, with the only source of light coming from the hallway and music from the maknae's phone.

Before she would let herself get a good night's sleep, Minnie decided to keep up her habit of having either a glass or bottle of water next to her bed. She made her way into the kitchen, not expecting anyone in there anymore as it was dark, explaining her wide eyes when she entered and found the duo by the table.

"Oh," her hand came up to her chest in surprise, "What are you guys still doing?"

"Drinking," Dino answered her, nudging his head to the beer bottles on the table. 

Followed by Wonwoo, who just got done with his next bite of the Ramen he had made, "And eating."

With a nod, the girl chuckled, walking over to the sink without another word. The room had fallen quiet as the rapper was focused on his food and the maknae had turned his full attention to the '97 Liner moving around the kitchen, looking for a glass or anything remotely close to a cup.

The sound of Wonwoo slurping his noodles got a chuckle from the youngest in the room.

"Noona, did you know Wonwoo-hyung doesn't chew his Ramen?" He asked her.

From her place by the counter, up on her tippy toes, she turned around, "Yeah," she smiled, "He inhales them." Getting a laugh from the maknae in return.

"Exactly! That's what I said."

"Why are you two making fun of me?" The oldest of the three joined the conversation, glancing over at the girl to see her struggle of not being able to see to the far back of the overhead cabinet. He got up from his chair in an instant.

"We're not making fun of you," Dino argued.

Wonwoo got next to Minnie, easily reaching to the back of the cabinet, where a few glasses were, reaching for one before handing it over to her.

"But I told you it's bad for you," she smiled up at him, taking the cup from his grip. "Thank you."

Without another word, the '96 Liner sat back down and his focus was back on the food in front of him.

Minnie turned on the Fausset before she let her backside rest against the counter, taking a sip of the glass she had just filled up.

Dino's eyes were locked on her form. "You're drinking straight from the sink?"

The female member nodded, "You can do that here. The water is clean." Making the maknae nod, clearly impressed by the info he had gotten.

"Do you want to drink with us?" He asked her, sitting up a slight bit straighter, ready to get another beer out of the fridge. But Minnie shook her head,

"No, thank you. I'm tired, I'm gonna go to sleep."

"Ah, ok." Defeated, with his arms crossed, the youngest sank back into his seat.

Before she made her way back to the room she shared with Jun and Dino, Minnie took a few steps forward until she was right behind Wonwoo's seat, placing a hand on his shoulder, to make him look up. 

"Good night," she whispered. As soon as their gazes met, she leaned down. The rapper straightened his back to meet her halfway where their lips touched for a soft kiss. She could feel the palm of his hand resting on her left hip.

Dino's hand immediately came up to cover his eyes, even turning his head slightly away. Once they separated and their eyes fell on the maknae, the two chuckled in unison. The teasing would never find an end. Even in a group like Seventeen, where open displays of affection in any way, romantic or platonic, weren't a rarity.

Minnie shook her head, smiling at the maknae, while Wonwoo went back to eating the last bites of his cup noodles. Checking for clear waters, the '99 Liner dropped his hand, smiling at the couple before the girl turned her back to them to leave the room.

-

Early in the morning, every member was still deep in their slumber. Well, everyone, but two - Minghao and Vernon. The roommates had gotten up earlier than the rest, with a specific plan in mind. A plan that required money from the 'manager'.

Thanks to the girl's light sleep, she was woken up by the sound of footsteps around the room. Opening one eye at first, the sun that had just started rising, hit her view, making her squint, wanting to close them immediately again. But another footstep made her whip her head around. Her eyes landed on the intruder.

"Hao?" Her voice was still raspy and laced with sleep. To get a clearer view, she rubbed her eyes, trying to adjust them to the brightness of the room.

Minghao raised a finger to his lips, begging her to stay quiet to let the other members rest.

"What are you doing?" Minnie whispered.

"Vernonnie and I want to go out for breakfast, but we need money," he explained, tapping the shoulder of the maknae as he whispered out his name to wake him up. Right after he had given his 'okay' to take the money they'd need, Dino closed his eyes again to fall back asleep.

Minnie stayed sat up on the mattress, her hand running through her hair as her eyes were focused on the sunrise outside of their window.

"Minnie-ya," Minghao's voice drifted her attention back to him, "Do you want to come too?"

For a quick second, the girl stayed quiet, trying to gather her thoughts before nodding her head.

"Sure."

Hao copied her action, his light footsteps carrying him to the other side of the room where he had seen her personalised shirt hung up on the handle of the closet. Minnie had decided to only sleep in the Calvin Klein sports bra the producers had provided her with. That way, she could feel comfortable wearing the T-shirt around the city that day.

He pulled it off the hanger, "Here," he threw it over to her on the bed.

"Thank you," she whispered back to him before he disappeared through the doorway again.

-

Out in the warm morning air, the three members started looking for a breakfast place in the area. While the temperature was slowly rising, getting up to the normal summer heat Rome was faced with each year, there was still a fresh breeze blowing past the old buildings. Minnie pulled the black zip-up hoodie she had thrown over her shirt closer around her body. The sleeves were long enough to cover her entire hands as well.

Minghao found a restaurant around seven minutes away from their current location that was already open, even at the early morning hour they had decided to get up. The close distance let the trio walk through the ancient streets of the city, taking in the old-stone structures that were so iconic for Italian architecture. 

Each building they passed was more fascinating than the one before. From normal apartments to churches, or even just stores and supermarkets. The vintage design of downtown Rome was too different from their home in Seoul to not let them be amazed by everything they saw.

Arrived at their destination, the group found the restaurant to be relatively empty, making finding a table much easier. Minnie and Vernon took the booth seating up against the wall, while Minghao sat across the table from them. The waiter arrived only shortly after they had settled down and greeted them with a kind smile. Ordering was easy, thanks to the older man understanding English, and done by the youngest of the three. They opted for three orange juices, pasta, a chicken meal, and a serving of ravioli.

It was then, that the girl noticed the clothing choices of each of them, giggling to herself before commenting. "Why am I the only one wearing the shirt we got?"

All eyes fell on her, eyeing her outfit.

"I thought we had to wear them all the time," she whined out loud, getting a round of quiet laughter from everyone around her. Minnie glanced over at the cameraman, who just shook his head. "You're telling me I could've looked cuter than this."

Vernon, next to her, hit her shoulder with a chuckle as Minghao smiled at her. "It's okay, you wear it very well," he reassured her.

Their food arrived a short while later. The waiter gave each plate to each member, letting them finally admire what they had ordered.

"It really looks so good," Hao commented, taking a quick picture of his plate before putting the phone to the side again.

Minnie, who was focused on her own device, typing away on the screen, looked up, "Yeah," she nodded, "You can tell how fresh everything here is."

The three started to eat, splitting their meals up between them, giving each other a small portion of everything on the table.

Lost in the smooth taste of their food, taking in each small flavour their tongues picked up, the group enjoyed their moment of silence together. For a few seconds, they were too focused on the lunch meals turned breakfast, to even engage in a simple conversation.

Vernon was the first to break the quietness when a thought hit him like a brick, whipping his head to the girl, who was pouring herself a glass of water.

"You can speak Italian, right?" He wondered, gaining the attention of the entire table.

She nodded. "A little bit. The basics I learned in school. Why?"

The younger member chuckled with a scoff, "Why did you let me order then?"

The sip she was taking from the glass was interrupted when she came to stop, her mouth closed as she giggled, trying to swallow before she could speak up again. 

"You didn't ask me to," Minnie smiled. "Also, I think I would be too shy to speak with an actual person from Italy. My Italian isn't that good."

Vernon was just about to say something when Minghao shook his head. "But you should. You should get more confident in speaking foreign languages."

"Yeah, you're good at learning them anyway," the youngest added, referring to the only academic 'gift' the female member had. But she just shrugged.

-

A bigger group of members that had split up from the rest, found themselves in a shop recommended by Na PD himself. They had ordered sandwiches for each one of them, along with a few bottles of Coke Zero and some wine - not caring about how early in the morning it was.

Amid their meal, Mingyu suddenly found the urge to contact the leader, who was in Korea, where it was now sometime in the afternoon. He picked up the Facetime call after only a few rings but kept his face hidden as he was sitting in a salon chair, getting his hair re-done.

"Show us. Let me see your face," the '97 Liner repeatedly kept on nagging the oldest member, showing the screen of his phone to the camera to reveal his face once he'd shown it.

"But I'm getting my hair dyed!" Seungcheol argued back.

"So let us see it!" The younger rapper argued again.

"You guys keep on contacting me!" The leader whined out. "Minnie has been texting me already. I sent her a picture."

"But she's not here with us. She went out with Vernon and Myungho, so show us your face now," Mingyu told him, continuously demanding a face reveal. Cheol finally gave in, turning his camera around to film himself in the chair, while two hairstylists were working on bleaching his hair.

-

EP2-2. Roman Holiday

"Everyone's here!" Na PD called out after counting the members on the bus. Everyone had found a seat for themselves and was enjoying the passing view outside of the windows. "We're going to see the Arch of Constantine and take pictures today," he explained further.

Due to the large number of members, the producer split them up into smaller groups, depending on where they were currently sitting. Jeonghan's group on the left side of the bus consisted of four, as well as Seungkwan's group on the right.

"And Group 3, the line in the back," Yeongseok pointed at them with the little flag he was carrying around with him. "The members who don't listen."

"Let's gooo!" Mingyu and Dokyeom shouted out together.

"Huh?!" Minnie wondered loudly, glancing over to the loud duo on the other side of the row, who seemed to be proud of the reputation they had gained.

Dino, who was sitting in the middle caught the shocked face of the female member, "Ah, noona!" Making him laugh out loud. "She doesn't like that title, hyung!"

"Who? Minnie-ya?" The producer looked at the very back of the bus, seeing the head of the girl peeking over the row in front of her.

"We listen well!" She argued back, getting a chuckle out of the older man and the rest of the group on the bus. Everyone knew, there was only a small amount of truth to her claim.

He shook his head, "I don't think so," getting another round of laughter from the members, while the girl had to fight a smile as she sunk back into the chair.

-

Each group had made their way off the bus, now walking around the ancient ruins toward the arch they were supposed to take pictures at. The hot weather had let the members only walk around in their individual shirts, with some of them also wearing the different kinds of hats they had bought in souvenir shops around the city. 

Minnie had put up her hair in a ponytail, and a pair of sunglasses high on her nosebridge as she looked around the open area. She decided to just enjoy the view while letting her fellow '97 Liner run around and take pictures. Na PD was close by her. A chuckle from the older man made her turn around, only to find out why. Mingyu was a few steps behind her, crouching down on the floor while his phone was directed at her.

"What are you doing?" She asked him, but he just shook her off with his hand,

"Keep on walking."

With a confused look on her face, she did as asked, continuing her casual walk, while the older man next to her kept on laughing at what was happening.

"Wait!" The rapper suddenly called out, running up to the girl. Dokyeom was still behind all of them, taking pictures of the scenery with his own phone. "Turn around and look over there," he tried to usher her to stand in the right position, moving her around with two strong hands on her shoulder. "Oh-", he turned her around for a split second, fixing a strand of hair that stuck out from the top of her head.

"You're really passionate about this, Mingyu-ya," Yeongseok commented with a chuckle, standing back with his arms crossed, watching the duo closely.

He nodded with a proud smile, "We need to get good pictures." Taking a few steps back, he crouched down slightly once again, tapping on his screen a few times while Minnie continued to pose on the opposite side of the makeshift dirt road they were walking on.

"Look here!" He called out. "And over your left shoulder!" His directions made the girl roll her eyes, a chuckle tumbling from her lips quickly after.

"Mingyu, you're being too much," she smiled at the man, who still had his knees bent, not stopping taking one pic after the other, even as she continued to get him to stop.

"You'll thank me for the pictures later," the rapper nudged his head provocatively at the '97 Liner, who took a deep breath in before fixing her hair and going after his demands of posing in front of the camera.

"Hyung!" She called out to the producer, motioning with her hand for him to come closer. "Take a picture with me! Please!"

With a shake of his head, he quickly gave in to the girl's request, jogging up to stand beside her before he slung his arm over her shoulder, posing together with her for another few pictures taken by Mingyu.

They resumed their journey through the open field with Na PD, Minnie, Mingyu, and Dokyeom walking all together.

"Ah...," the rapper sighed out in relief, "Isn't this so nice, guys?" Throwing his arms over the other two '97 Liners.

"It's really nice," DK agreed. "It kinda really feels just like youth. Like it's the last in my late 20s before ending our lives."

"What?" Minnie and Yeongseok glanced over at the singer in surprise, "What did you just say?" The girl wondered.

"Why are you ending your life? Hey!" The producer questioned the sudden statement.

Dokyeom quickly excused himself, trying to get the meaning he had originally wanted to express right, getting a round of laughter from the people next to him. Minnie shook her head with a smile, mumbling something under her breath.

"You mean, ending your late 20s well," Na PD explained for him, to which the members agreed.

The girl had kept her head down, following a stone she was kicking along with her feet as they were walking. "Yeongseok-hyung is so wise."

Her comment got a whole-hearted laugh from the older man, his hand petting her back, making her look up at him with a big grin. "Ah... that's very sweet of you Minnie-ya." Her right arm slung across his back to lean into him, pulling him in for a side hug and joining the chain the four had created.

-

The Arch of Constantine was even more magnificent than any of the members could've imagined. They had split up, each to be on their own or in smaller groups, taking pictures or just taking in the structure right in front of them and next to the Colosseum. Their eyes raked over each detail engraved into the old stone, pondering how it was even possible to create masterpieces like this such a long time ago.

The producers asked them to gather for the group photo, having to recall their position in the line they had decided on the day before. 

A picture, a video clip, and a few more personal pictures later, they went on their way further around the city, when some of the members found a cute little ice cream stand. The members who were craving the famous Gelato were quick to get in line, their orders already in their heads. Manager Dino was right next to them, using the pocket money they were gifted to pay for each treat.

With the refreshments in their hands, they continued their way through the streets of Italy. Passing blooming gardens, trees on the side of the roads, smiling people, and more ancient buildings that made Rome oh so special.

"I think I can really go on a world trip with just a camera," Wonwoo suddenly spoke up. Minnie, only a few steps in front of him, chuckled on slowed down her walk as the rapper reached out, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder to walk right beside her.

"How many pictures have you taken yet?" She asked, to which he looked down at the apparatus.

"I don't know, to be honest. A few."

In the next moment, the female member was standing in front of a colourful they had found along their way. Decorated with graffiti and drawings by multiple different artists, it seemed. Wonwoo, in his usual fashion, was holding up the camera, looking through the lens with one eye, taking a few steps back and forward again, trying to find an angle he'd like. Minnie smiled brightly, her sunglasses still high on the bridge of her nose. While she turned away to continue their walk, the '96 Liner kept his hold on the device tightly, taking a few more shots of the girl before putting the camera down to glance around the area, trying to look for the next beautiful thing to photograph.

-

The group had finally made their way back into the much cooler bus. Some of the members sighed out loud in exhaustion, complaining about the heat they were enduring. Everyone took the same seats as before, letting their backs rest against the cushions.

Next on the list: Lunch.

Na PD revealed the restaurant they were heading to to be a celebrity 'hot spot'. Multiple stars, including singers, actors, football players, etc. had dined there, making it become a very popular destination for others. As an example, he mentioned Leonardo Di Caprio. The members hollered out in excitement.

"Vernonnie,"

"Vernonnie!" Dokyeom and Mingyu commented, getting a round of chuckles from the other members. Minnie, grinned at the younger member next to her, watching his lips curl up as he shook his head slightly. With a giggle, she patted his shoulder.

-

"Let's go eat!" Jun called out as soon as the bus came to a halt. They had arrived at their lunch spot for the day. Waiters ushered them in and brought them to the table reserved for the big group in a slightly more private area of the restaurant. The female member to her seat opposite Na PD, next to Wonwoo, at the other end of the table.

The members were more than excited. Hours of walking around the hot city had brought hunger to their stomachs, ready to get a taste of even more traditional Italian cuisine - some had already gotten a taste early in the morning.

One of the waiters came back into the room, greeting them in true Italian fashion. He rounded the table, handing out a few of the menu cards so that at least two or three members could look at one together. That's when they found a catch. Everything was written in Italian.

"Oh... I really have no idea. There's no English at all," Vernon noticed. Minnie reached for the card Wonwoo had just put down, her eyes scanning the words.

"Ah...," she repeated with a nervous chuckle, "there really isn't."

Different possible solutions for their situation were thrown around. While some members were trying to make some sense of the words they were seeing, Mingyu suggested just ordering the most expensive items of each category. What part of them forgot though was that they had two people who could converse in a basic conversation with their language knowledge.

"The one that says 'fritti' is kind of fried," Joshua explained to his half of the table. "I think it means fried." He continued to go over the menu, explaining what he thought each meal would translate to.

"Funghi Porcini," Minnie read out, just to herself and whoever would catch her voice, "is with mushrooms." 

"What is Pomodoro?" Woozi wondered out loud. As Shua was still busy talking to the maknae on his right, the female member decided to answer.

"Tomato. So it's like... probably like pasta with just tomato sauce and basil."

With scrunched eyebrows, the '96 Liner glanced at her. "You understand this too?"

She shrugged, "A little bit."

Back in her own world with Wonwoo right next to her, they went through the meals together, him asking her what some of the things meant and her translating everything for him. Lost in their little convo, she didn't react when her name was first called out, only when the man next to her nudged her before pointing at Joshua, who was trying to get her attention.

"Hm?"

"Can you order for that side of the table, and I'll order for this?" He pointed to each side, as he asked her. "Is that okay?" Joshua apparently didn't forget about the mere two years she had to study the language in school.

Slightly lost in his question, the girl nodded before she could even say what she actually wanted. Because doing what he had asked of her was definitely not a thing she was ready to do. She didn't have the confidence some other members, *cough* Mingyu *cough*, were blessed with. She had never been one to just talk to random people, ESPECIALLY when those people spoke a language she wasn't fluent in. Just thinking back to her first days at Pledis. Seungcheol was the one who had to come up to her. Back then, he was surprised to find out that her Korean skills weren't half as good as he had thought. It hit her like a kick back into the past - now having to converse in a language she had spoken the last time when she was in school.

Vernon chuckled when a heavy sigh fell from her lips as she sunk into her chair. "Now you have to talk in Italian." Referring back to the morning they had spent together back at that breakfast place.

"This is gonna be so embarrassing." With a pained facial expression, she leaned over to put her forehead against Wonwoo's shoulder, taking a deep breath.

"They're not going to make fun of you," he tried to assure her, his hand patting her thigh in comfort. "They're nice. Just try it."

Minnie straightened her back again, almost quivering as her eyes fixed on the waiter walking into the room again. "They might not make fun of me openly, but they'll talk about it later. I have the worst accent when I talk Italian!" She shout-whispered, her fingers fidgeting in her lap.

Wonwoo tried his best not to chuckle at her reaction. He knew the situation was only half as bad as she interpreted it - always an overthinker. With a soft smile, he placed his hand on top of hers, trying to get her to calm down with his thumb running across her knuckles. 

"We all have accents when we speak English. But has that ever stopped like Seungkwan or Mingyu from speaking it?"

"Dino sometimes doesn't want to."

"But you're not Dino," he argued softly, just wanting to lean forward and gently kiss her pouty lips, but there couldn't have been a worse time or place for it than then.

"And I'm no Seungkwan or Mingyu either," she threw back, making him take a deep breath, but before he could say anything, Minnie shook her head. "I know, I'm sorry."

"Stop," he squeezed her hand. "Just don't overthink it, it's all good."

Their moment had to be cut short as the waiter had made his way over to their side of the table.

With a big smile, he greeted the group in his native tongue, forcing everyone to do the same. Minnie was handed the menu by Wonwoo, now at least able to point at the meals she possibly wouldn't pronounce correctly. She started off easily, talking slowly and trying to speak as clearly as she possibly could. Showing him the words on the card most definitely helped her. Every now and then, the man would ask questions as well, taking her back at first, but as he was just trying to get the order perfectly right, she warmed up to the situation. 

"Jeonghannie-hyung, what do you want?" She leaned forward to get a look at the oldest member. He had not given her his order yet.

He shook his head, "I'll eat anything you order for me, Minnie-ya." A quick glance at Woozi, he told her the same thing.

"And you, hyung?" She directed her attention to the man sitting across from her.

"Oh- this one please," he pointed at the menu he was holding onto, showing her the pasta meal he would want.

As scared as the female member was of messing up, she had only stuttered twice, and that was purely because she was unsure of the correct grammatical ending she would have to use in the sentence. The waiter nodded along with her order, writing down everything she mentioned on the menu before thanking her with another kind smile and disappearing again.

With a deep breath, the girl hunched over the table dramatically. Wonwoo chuckled at her antics, his hand coming up to rub her back.

"Damn," Vernon grinned, nodding his head at her.

The oldest man at the table couldn't take his eyes off the female member. His eyes were wide and a proud smile lit up his face.

"Woah... Minnie-ya," his voice made her look up. "How- I didn't know you spoke Italian so well."

She shook her head, "No... it's no- I only learned it in school for a bit."

"But that was really good!" He complimented her.

Minnie chuckled shyly, her shoulders lifting as she subconsciously leaned to the side.

Wonwoo patted her back one more time. "Good job," sending her a warm smile that she couldn't help but reciprocate.

-

Even though they had already gone through multiple jugs of the homemade house wine the restaurant had to offer, Na PD had ordered another few different types. The members only noticed it when there were new bottles put down on the table, along with more glasses as well. A green bottle and the same in red again were right in front of Minnie and Wonwoo, letting them try to read what the calligraphy around the logo said. As their side of the table was the first to receive the ordered wine, the other members got curious.

Mingyu got up from his seat, making his way over to stop in between his dormmates.

"Try and see which one is the expensive one," Yeongseok challenged them.

"Oh," Minnie chuckled, her hand placed on the arm of the '97 Liner as he leaned forward to get a better look at the bottles. "Mingyu will be good at this, I think."

Minghao joined them only shortly after.

"These two are different?" He wondered while Mingyu was already taking the first sip of what he had poured.

Minnie glanced up to her left, expecting her dormmate, only to be met with Dokyeom, who had also come along to the taste test. A pat on her shoulder made her look to the right. Mingyu handed her his glass of wine without a word, which she graciously took, taking a sip of the little bit he had left for her.

"Mm," she hummed, "I like this one."

He nodded, leaning against the wall as he looked down at her. "Me too, but I think it's the slightly cheaper one."

"I want to try the other as well. You too?" The girl wondered, getting a nod in return. She reached out to get a new glass and went to pour in some of it from the other bottle when it was suddenly snatched from her grip. Wonwoo got a hold of it, placing the glass closer to him before he let the liquid fill it up with a good amount.

"Don't pour yourself alcohol," he remarked before putting the glass back down in front of her. 

She nodded. "Thank you." Just as she was about to hand it over to Mingyu, he brushed her off with a motion of his hand.

"You take a sip first." Not fighting him back on it, she brought the rim up to her lips, tilting it back until the slight bitter taste hit her tongue. She took a small sip, her face scrunching up a bit as she put the glass down again.

The '97 Liner reached out to get it. "Not good?" He chuckled at her expression.

"That tastes like the red wine I usually don't like," she stated, taking a big gulp from the glass of Coke Zero by her plate.

"Oh," Mingyu commented, "I like it." After having tasted it and going back to take another sip.

"Then you can keep it," she told him, face still scrunched up by the bitterness, getting another chuckle out of him and a brush over the top of her hair.

-

Meal after meal was brought to their table, even more plates now filling even the smallest empty gaps. The members shared each pasta between them, handing over spoons full of each food they had ordered. 

They all were very well surprised by the tastes their tongue got to explore, but one member seemed particularly happy. Vernon.

"It's so good."

"Wow, it's really nice."

"This is really good." 

He kept on repeating, making the female member chuckle as she watched him closely.

She wasn't the only one to notice though. "He really likes spaghetti," Na PD pointed out, making the '98 Liner nod.

"I really like it."

"I haven't seen Vernon eat that well in a long time," Minnie commented, the corners of her lips still curled up.

-

EP2-3. On the Bus

The members had found themselves back on the bus after their well-enjoyed lunch break. Now, all full and happy, they were making their way up to the North, to their next destination: Tuscany.

Knowing, the drive would take a good 3 hours, some had already leaned back, ready to enjoy the long drive. They were wondering what the house they'd stay at next would look like. Knowing the production team, they probably went all out. Minnie had engaged in a comfortable conversation with Yeongseok during their lunch in the episode before, making them get closer than they were before. The girl had started to realise that this trip truly wouldn't be like the 'Youth Over Flowers' she had watched before. They had talked about the other members, life in general, and just getting to know each other member. She was definitely starting to warm up to him quite a lot. Minnie had been a fan of the man and the shows he had done in the past for quite a while, so getting to know him personally was quite intimidating. But just like the idol group as well, Na PD was too kind-hearted to not like him. The whole production crew in general. In some aspects, Minnie could see the members in some of the producers. How they could turn out in a few years, personality-wise. With shared humour and traits, it was easy to get close to them. They were enjoying a holiday together after all.

"Iced Americano...," Yeongseok suddenly spoke up. 

"I love it so much."

"Is so nice."

"Thank you so much." Came from different members as answers. They didn't know yet, that the drink wasn't being offered to them. 

At this point, Na PD was just showing off, as they had found out. "I really like it, that's just what I said," he commented with a devilish smile already teasing his lips. Some of the members were getting quite desperate, and he noticed it, but it only amused the older man even more.

"But... there might be some members who like it, right?" He wondered teasingly.

"Like it?" Minnie wonders out loud, her head popping out from behind the seats of Wonwoo and Woozi. "Seungkwan breathes Iced Americano!" Getting a round of chuckles from the members, including Yeongseok.

"Oh, is that so?" He asked the younger member who just so happened to sit right behind him. "Well... if there are other members that like it... we brought 13 cups just in case."

The bus was immediately filled with groans of desperation and shock, everyone surprised by the kind gesture. Especially from the members who had been living life on the limit with the caffeine deficit they had been enduring over the past few days as the espresso they'd get in the city was not pleasing their tastebuds.

So, Na PD was holding onto 13 cups of coffee, but he wasn't just going to give them to each of the members, they had found out. The production crew came up with an 'S.Coups quiz' where the prize of each rightly-answered question would be one of the cups. At this point, you could feel the heated personalities of the members rise up and physically watch as the more competitive members sat up straighter in their seats. Minnie smirked.

"As a reference, we don't know the answers either," Yeongseok explained. "We need to do a video call and find out."

"Ooooh," Minnie whispered to herself.

After going through the rules one more time, the first question was thrown at them right away.

"'Coups' quiz!" Na PD called out, "Right now, what is S.Coups doing? In detail."

A few hands shot up immediately, but Mingyu was the first to also call out his name, therefore getting picked first.

"After dying his hair, he's at home," he simply answered.

The producer repeated his answer, making sure he got each detail correctly.

"After he finished dying his hair, he went home," the '97 Liner explained one more time.

"But I'm curious about what he's doing at home right now," Yeongseong told him, making a few more hands come up.

"Minnie!" The female member shouted out, getting picked next. "He's playing video games."

"And what kind of video games?" He nagged further.

The girl sighed out with a smile, "How am I supposed to know that? He plays a lot..."

"I need to know everything in detail," the man clarified one more time.

The next member to try and get the right answer was Vernon, who repeated Minnie's answer with a little addition.

"Computer game," he stated.

"Ah, computer game? And what game?"

With a groan, the '98 Liner leaned forward, tilting his head into the narrow walkway of the bus, holding onto the handles by the seat in front of him, where Wonwoo was sitting. The older member turned to the side with a smirk on his lips,

"LoL, LoL, LoL," he kept on repeating, trying to help the younger rapper. This didn't go unnoticed by the girl, who gasped once Vernon repeated what he had just been told.

"You cheater," she whispered at him as soon as his back hit the cushion of his seat again.

"Blame Wonwoo-hyung. He helped me," he defended himself, only getting a shake of her head from Minnie in return, her lips pressed together tightly.

Hoshi, Jun, Woozi, and Joshua gave their own ideas as well, desperately hoping their answer would be the right one. Before anyone else could even be picked, Mingyu shouted out to grab everyone's attention. He had caught Minghao texting Seungcheol and filmed him to have evidence in his hands. The dancer was thrown out of this round by Na PD, making the other members celebrate in glee.

Wonwoo, Dokyeom, Seungkwan, Dino, and Jeonghan were the last ones to drop their answer - Minghao was still too sulky to give his.

Seungkwan was the one who would get to call the leader via video call. He fixed his hair while waiting for the oldest member to pick up. Dokyeom was hoping he'd be on the toilet pooping. After a good minute of silence from the other end of the line, they were close to giving up on the call when Wonwoo chuckled out loud. He had found S.Coups' 'online' status on the Discord app. They decided to call him that way, but only to tell him to pick up the video call from the '98 Liner, so they'd be able to see him. After another try, they were finally met with his face on the phone screen in the younger member's hands. They briefly went over the quiz they were currently doing before getting to the question they all had been desperately waiting to ask him.

"What are you doing?"

"Right now? Playing games," he told them, getting a loud shout of glee from Vernon in the very back.

"I said that!" Minnie argued with the member next to her, hitting his shoulder as he was celebrating his not-yet-fixed win a little too much.

"What game?" Dokyeom raised his voice so the leader would be able to hear him.

Seungkwan repeated it. "What game exactly?"

"LoL."

That's when the girl scoffed out with an annoyed smirk, letting the boy to her right shout out in glee. 

"I said LoL!" He proudly announced. The girl just shook her head. He was handed over his cup of Iced Americano and took a sip, followed by a happy sigh as he leaned back.

"I hate you so much right now," the girl joked, glancing over at the younger member.

Vernon chuckled, "You should've listened to Wonwoo when he said it."

"But he said it to you! He didn't even try to help me," she whined, the feeling of betrayal hitting her. "Unbelievable," she mumbled under her breath. The '98 Liner couldn't help but laugh at her. 

Thankfully, they were quick to move on to the next question.

"It's 11pm in Korea right now," Na PD started again. "Coups is currently playing a lot of LoL. BUT... before he played LoL... what did Coups eat for dinner?"

Everyone immediately agreed that the answer to this would be too hard for them to guess. After all, there were at least a thousand different things he could've ordered or made. But still, Mingyu was, once again, the first one to guess, giving his answer with, "Chicken breasts!" The leader was on a diet after all. The maknae decided on him probably not eating anything at all since the '95 Liner would be filming his part of the 'God of Music' music video the following day.

Dokyeom, Jun, and Joshua followed right after, each giving a different answer. Hoshi went against Dino's idea and threw out that the oldest of the group enjoyed a heavy meal before starting to play his game. And Vernon was the last one to give his answer.

"Did everyone guess?" The producer wondered out loud, losing count of each of the members once again.

The idols started looking around the bus. The ones who didn't want to give an answer shook their head.

"Minnie hasn't said anything yet!" Vernon called out, earning himself a nudge to his ribs.

"Oh- noona! What's your answer?" The youngest leaned forward as he glimpsed to his left to get a look at the female member.

Yeongseok pushed himself up to glance at the very back of the bus. "Minnie-ya!" He shouted out for her, "What do you think?"

"I don't want to say anything!" She whined back, still sulky from the moment between Vernon and Wonwoo.

"Ah- don't be like that," Na PD sighed. "You know S.Coups well, right?"

"I don't know," she shrugged, "Naengmyeon."

"Naengmyeon?!" The producer raised his voice in confusion, followed by the other members who did the same.

"Never mind," Dino shook his head, "She takes that back." His remark got a few chuckles from the others.

Seungkwan turned around, "But he has a shoot tomorrow."

"Well, maybe he wanted to treat himself before work. He likes naengmyeon," she argued back, looking over the seats in front of her.

"No... I don't think so," Mingyu muttered, daring to take a quick peek over to the side, where she was already glaring at him.

"Not everyone can enjoy a boring diet like yours," she threw at him, making Vernon laugh and push her back by her shoulders.

"No fighting, kids!" Na PD demanded with a smile and a shake of his head, mumbling something inaudible under his breath. "Let's find out."

That time, Jeonghan was handed the phone to call the leader. Within only a few rings, he picked up the second video call.

"Oh, Jeonghan-ah," S.Coups greeted the second oldest of the group, his eyes switching between looking at the phone screen and his computer.

"Hey, Coups. What did you eat for dinner?" He got straight to the point.

"For dinner?" Cheol wondered out loud. "Ehm... I had... Naengmyeon."

"Naengmyeon!" Jeonghan repeated it louder to let everyone hear. Loud gasps filled the bus in an instant.

Minnie shot up from her seat, "REALLY?!"

"You really ate naengmyeon?" Dokyeom couldn't believe the answer the leader had given them. "Why did you eat naengmyeon when you have the music video filming tomorrow?"

Vernon, still surprised by the actual answer, scooted forward in his seat. "Why are you eating naengmyeon?" All while Minnie was looking at the phone Jeonghan was still holding up with a big smile on her face.

A few more exclaims fell from the members, clearly stunned by the meal choice of the oldest member before Jeonghan tried to hang up the phone.

"Wait-," the leader called out, "Jeonghan. What do you think of my dyed hair?" 

The '95 Liner grinned, "Pretty, pretty!" He lifted the hand that was clutching onto the phone, "Guys, Coups' hair is pretty, right?" Of course, he got each member to agree with hums, nods, and words directed to the leader.

"Oppa, your hair looks so pretty!" Minnie shouted out happily, "Thank you for eating naengmyeon!"

"What did she say?" The oldest chuckled, moving closer to the screen with scrunched eyebrows.

Jeonghan chuckled, "She says your hair is pretty and thanked you for eating naengmyeon."

"Did she get it right?" To which the other member nodded. "You're welcome, Minnie-ya!"

"He says 'you're welcome'!" The singer turned around in his seat, his eyes immediately on the grinning girl, who sent a dramatic flying kiss in his direction. Vernon pulled her down with an amused shake of his head.

A few 'goodbyes' back and forth later, the video call ended.

"So, Minnie-ya!" Na PD called out for the female member, "You really got it right!"

"I know!" Grinning from ear to ear, Minnie's smile could've lit up a dark room instantly.

"Well done," Woozi nodded to himself, "I would've never thought he'd eat that while dieting."

Wonwoo glanced at his fellow '96 Liner, "Me neither."

"Noona apparently really knows Coups-hyung the best," Dino commented, watching the grin not leaving her lips.

"Seems like it," Dokyeom agreed.

"You deserved it. Enjoy the Iced Americano!" The producer congratulated her, handing over the cold plastic cup to the back, each member passing it further until it reached Vernon, who tried to take a sip.

A smack to his arm stopped him, "What are you doing?" The girl smiled at him, getting a chuckle in return as he finally handed her her prize.

"Thank youuuu!" She shouted one more time before bringing the coffee up to her lips, a smile still plastered on her face.

In true Seventeen fashion, they came up with a deal next. Agreeing, that the S.Coups quiz might be too hard, for some, they asked for an Italy trivia quiz instead. As Na PD was very knowledgeable in the culture and history, having been here before, he let himself get dragged into the agreement. Minnie already knew she'd prefer to stay in the background, happily sipping on her coffee while she watched the chaos unfold right in front of her.

-

Only when it suddenly turned into a quiz just for Dino, Minnie's ears perked up.

"Listen to the question first. Just think about it," Yeongseok told the maknae, who had moved slightly forward, now sitting at the edge of his seat. "What word refers to the world-famous first division of professional Italian soccer?" The members were quick to agree that the question was easy to answer, but the youngest just nodded along mindlessly.

Na PD tried to encourage him, promising that he'd be able to get to answer while looking for others to do the same. He called out Dokyeom, who was smiling at him, expecting him to support the '99 Liner, when instead, he suddenly shouted out the correct answer.

"Serie A!"

"W-Why are you saying it?" The producer laughed out loud, the rest of the group joining him, glancing back at the '97 Liner who started to apologise, not having realised he wasn't supposed to actually answer the given question.

"Oh..." Dino sat up straighter, "Is that the answer?"

Na PD couldn't help but laugh warmly at the maknae. "This-... He doesn't even know what it is!"

"No, I thought it was Paris Saint-Germain," he explained. The entire bus filled with laughter.

The girl whipped her head to the right, getting a chuckle from Vernon, who was already clutching his stomach from the antics of the other members. 

"That's the of a team!"

"That's a team from Paris!" Vernon and Minnie laughed out loud together, the younger member finding more humour in the situation while the girl looked genuinely concerned, her eyebrows scrunched together and her lips slightly agape. 

Mingyu patted Dino's shoulder, "That's in Paris!"

"It's Paris!" Vernon hit his thigh, raising his voice slightly.

"Dino-ya-" Minnie started, but was interrupted.

"Wait, wait-" the youngest stopped everyone around him, "Isn't Italy part of Europe?"

The '98 Liner could barely hold himself together anymore, nudging his elbow into the maknae's side, laughing out loud as if he was gasping for air. In shock, Minnie leaned back into her chair. The rapper looked over, finding her covering her mouth with a hand and closing her eyes to take a deep breath. It only made him laugh harder.

"Is he serious?" She asked him, chuckling at how he was barely holding on. "Is this real?" She shook her head, leaning over to pat the '99 Liner's thigh. "Dino-ya," he turned his head to meet her eye, "Paris Saint-Germain is a team from Paris. Paris is a city in France. Both Italy and France are in Europe, but one thing doesn't have to do anything with the other."

"Aaaah, really?" He nodded his head. At least somebody was educating this man.

With a defeated look, Minnie let herself fall back against the cushion. A quick peek to the side made her chuckle as Vernon was already looking at her with a grin plastered on his face.

-

EP2-4. Today's chefs, SEVENTEEN!

The bus went on for another hour or two that was spent quietly as each member focused on themselves. Most eyes were focused on the passing landside, and others were trained on their phones. Minnie managed to catch a quick nap of only a few minutes but it definitely helped to let the time pass.

"We're arriving at the supermarket in 20 minutes," Na PD announced. "Think about what we're going to eat today."

"Who wants to go to the supermarket?" Seungkwan questioned the room.

Mingyu was quick to react, "I want to go!"

"Me too," the '98 Liner added.

As Dino was the manager who was holding onto all of the pocket money the group had received, he wondered, "Should I go?" The members agreed.

The eyes of the biggest member drifted to the other side of the bus, "Minnie-ya," catching the attention of the girl. "Do you want to go too?" Knowing she'd actually be of big help in the grocery store as the designated members would only be able to converse in English in emergencies.

She nodded with a smile, "Yeah, sure."

"Minnie, Mingyu, Seungkwan, Dino," Wonwoo counted out loud, making the rest of the group nod. It was a good choice of members that would buy fun stuff, good stuff, but still responsibly.

Now that they had the chosen buyers that would hit the supermarket, the next decision would be what they'd even want to buy. What would be on the menu for the evening? It didn't take long to agree on the cuisine: Korean. None of them had the energy or confidence at that point to recreate any of the meals they were gifted during their lunch break. They knew they could cook something Korean, they just hoped they'd find the right ingredients.

-

The four got off the bus, heading over to get a cart first.

"Woah... it looks like an American Supermarket," the girl commented, following the '98 Liner who had already spotted the carts.

Inside, they immediately started looking for the meat section. They found the counter, with a woman and a man behind it, who was already looking at them as they got closer. Their eyes drifted over each meat they offered, trying to find something them and the others would enjoy. Minnie didn't get to say anything before Mingyu started talking to the employee, pointing at the raw meat he had found.

"Is that pork belly?" The girl wondered, stopping by his right, glancing at the butcher who was cutting it into thick pieces.

The rapper shrugged, "I think. It looks like it." They also found some pork neck, asking the man to cut some for them as well.

Next: Chicken. Just further down, they found more meat in individual coolers. Seungkwan reached out for one plastic-wrapped carton.

"Doesn't this look like chicken breast?" The maknae wondered.

Mingyu reached out to grab it, taking a closer look. "Isn't it intestines?" At the mention, Minnie's face scrunched up in disgust. She wasn't vegetarian, but she had her limits. "Do you know?" He looked down at her.

Taking a small step closer to his side, he held up the package for her. "Petto Pollo Coop? Pollo means chicken ...," she told the group. "And I'm pretty sure Petto means chest. But I don't know about Coop"

"Are you sure?" Seungkwan asked her, but her nod was hesitant.

"Like... 90%, yeah."

"That's good enough," Mingyu tossed it into the cart without another word, before leaning down into the cooler to get more. "Let's buy a lot of this."

At their stop in the seafood section, the girl stood back, letting the guys decide as she was the last person to ask when it came to a meal including anything from the ocean. The other members locked their eyes on some salmon and just decided to take a few more packages of it, not caring about anything else from that side of the supermarket.

They hit the vegetables and frozen foods section next, making a quick stop at a small stall that held freshly made warm chicken they could buy.

"The members would like this," they commented.

During their time in the drinks department, they noticed just how quickly the cart was filling up.

"The members drink a lot of Pepsi, right?" Seungkwan chuckled at the sight of multiple bottles and cans they had thrown in.

Minnie laughed, crossing her arms in front of her chest, "They need their caffeine." Knowing she was one of said members.

"Underwear," the '98 Liner suddenly remembered. "Underwear for the members.

"Oh, right," Mingyu nodded, "We have slippers, but we need to buy underwear." In the aisle, the girl split from the other guys as female underwear was on the other end of the line, having to look for it herself. Her fellow '97 Liner noticed her sudden absence, walking over to where she was standing.

"Did you find something?" He wondered.

Minnie nodded, holding up her hand that was clinging onto two hangers, each with a bra, while in her other she was holding a few three-sets of underwear. Without asking, Mingyu reached out, getting everything out of her grip as he noticed her eyes were still searching for something. She let go of it easily, knowing better than to fight his stubborn head when it came to carrying things for her.

"What are you looking for?" He asked her, walking along with her as she took slow steps down the aisle.

"A bikini."

"You mean a swimsuit?"

Minnie chuckled with a roll of her eyes, glancing up at him, a knowing grin on her lips. "Whatever I can find. But preferably a bikini." 

A few steps to the right, he stopped right in front of something he had found. "What about this?" He nudged his head towards the shelves. With raised eyebrows, the girl walked over, wondering what he had seen that she could want. As soon as her eyes fixed on it, she stopped in her tracks. A wetsuit. Of course.

"Funny," she jokingly glared at him, getting a chuckle out of him in return.

"I'm serious," he shrugged, knowing damn well that girl wasn't about to buy a wetsuit to wear to the pool they would have at the next place.

Minnie shook her head, her lips still curled to a smile. "No, I think I'll go with this one." Walking back to take what she had located earlier off the rack. "But thank you for your opinion." 

She held it up, watching Mingyu just turn around, ready to join the others again. The female member jogged a bit to catch up with him, giggling at his antics.

-

On their way to the register, they passed a snack aisle, stopping there for a bit to roam around, throwing anything that looked somewhat good into their cart. Crisps, gummies, literally anything. Minnie was the only one, who pushed them towards the fruits that were lined up against the wall of the grocery store. She got a few bananas and apples, still thinking about somehow evening out their intake of unhealthy snacks - it was a bad habit of hers that was hard to get rid of.

They had texted the other members early, once they got in line, so they'd come to help them with the almost insane amount of bags filled with food, clothes, and ingredients. Only 40 minutes later, they were outside and back on the bus again.

-

Minnie fell into another quick nap on the bus as the darkness illuminated by the warm street lights made her even sleepier than she already was. She only realised they had arrived when groans and hollers of happiness filled the confined space.

The group got off the bus and made their way forward towards the house, some had offered to carry the boxes and bags from the grocery store along with them. Minnie was one of the last ones in line as they finally got to the old-fashioned farmhouse.

Entering it felt like almost jumping into a new universe. Old stones and ancient furniture with an Italian touch surrounded them.

"Wow...," the girl gasped as soon as she walked it, trying to take in every corner she passed. "This is so beautiful... oh my God..." The members who were in front of her agreed, each one of them not able to grasp the beauty of the building they'd be staying in for the next few days. Every detail was so simple yet so pretty, the stones on the wall adding to the vintage feeling of the house. It was old, yet cosy and warm. It felt inviting.

The house had enough bedrooms for the members to share, some holding two beds, some having three. But who would get to sleep in which one, they'd decide through a game of 'Rock-Paper-Scissors'.

"It doesn't really matter here because all of them are nice," Woozi commented, making Minnie, who was standing next to him nod in agreement.

Once it was her turn to choose a room, she started roaming around again, taking a peek into each one to see what members had already occupied which ones. The two rooms right by the front door were the last ones she'd get to look at. She walked to the one on her left first.

"Oh, noona!" Dino greeted her with a big smile. Mingyu came back out from the attached bathroom, glancing at the girl.

"You guys are here?" She wondered, to which the two members nodded. "Alright." Without another word, she exited it again, walking across the floor to the other one.

"Hello?" She called out into the, what seemed to be an empty, room. When she didn't get an answer back, she shrugged and threw the tote bag, which Jeonghan had bought for each member back in Rome, on the double bed. Only a second later, she let her body fall onto the mattress, a pleasant groan tumbling from her lips. She let her eyes close for a split second before some of the other guys suddenly appeared in her doorway.

"Do you guys already have a bed?" 

Dokyeom nodded, "I'm sharing a room with Jeonghannie-hyung," he told her.

"And I'm with Vernon and Woozi," Hoshi told her, making her nod.

They were quick to walk back into their individual rooms again and Minnie decided to take a look at the bathroom, whose door was against the same wall as the bed.

"Where's a bed that's left?" The last member of the game, Wonwoo, shouted through the house. He walked into the room that was closest to him on his right. The room that Minghao and Jun shared.

"I think Minnie's alone in her room," the '97 Liner stated as soon as he saw the older member enter.

"Where's her room?" He asked them, turning around without waiting for an answer. "Minnie-ya?" His loud voice bounced off the old walls as he continued walking through the living room, towards the entrance door.

"What?" She called back, walking out of the bathroom again, towards the door to her room, stepping out to see what was going on. Her eyes met Wonwoo's, who was taking quick steps up to her

"Minghao said you have a bed left," he explained. Minnie nodded, a yawn suddenly coming up, making her cover her mouth. She walked back inside.

"You can share it with me," she spoke through the sign of sleepiness, making the rapper chuckle. The female member sat down on the bed, watching the '96 Liner put his stuff onto the chair in the corner. She leaned back to get a hold of her bag.

"Can you put my stuff there too? Please." She asked, handing him the tote bag to collect all of their clothes and personal items in one place. 

The two decided to walk back outside, finding some of the boxes the members had left in the living room that were filled with ingredients that would be more suitable in the kitchen. Just as they went to pick them up and make their way downstairs, Hoshi joined the duo.

"Are you going to the kitchen?" He wondered, looking at Wonwoo who nodded at him before his eyes fell on the girl, who was carrying one of the boxes that was clearly way too heavy. "Oh- wait, give that to me."

"No, no, it's okay," she brushed him off.

"No, let me help you," he argued back, winning the fight as she let go of the carton, choosing to follow him in silence down the stairs, where their maknae greeted them. As soon as they reached the ground floor, Dino walked over to the performance leader, taking over in carrying the heavy box.

"Hyung!" Minnie chuckled at the scene in front of her, "You said you wanted to help me."

"But our maknae is so strong, how could I say no," he defended himself with a grin, making the girl shake her head.

"I worked out," Dino proudly announced with a big smile on his lips, getting all three of the members to chuckle sweetly.

They put everything on the kitchen island before going through each item individually. Minnie took a second to look around the room.

"This... this really looks like a dream house. And a dream kitchen."

"I know," Mingyu agreed, "I said to Dino this is the perfect height for a counter," before turning around, "And the stove is really good too."

The female member looked down at the surface, her hands brushing over the wood, "Really pretty."

"This is egg," her fellow '97 Liner announced, handing the item over to the youngest who was standing by an open fridge door.

"Eggs. Multiple," Minnie chuckled. She didn't correct the other members' English very often, but every now and then, she would decide that a remark was more important. Just like now.

"Eggs," Mingyu repeated, continuing to go through their groceries. "This is- OH, ice cream. Ice cream, ice cream," his tone suddenly became rushed. "Come on yo, come on yo!" The girl couldn't help but laugh at her members.

"Emergency, emergency!" Dino played into it, repeating the words over and over again while finding a place for the item in the freezer.

"You guys are weird," she mumbled under her breath with a smile, collecting the bags of salad Wonwoo and Hoshi were placing on the counter.

-

The rest of the group had started to come together in the kitchen, circling the island. Everyone but Jun and Vernon as they had found comfort on the couch and their bed, motion sickness from the drive slowly catching up with them.

"Then, I will start," Mingyu, the main cook of the group announced. "We just need to grill the meat, chop the ingredients and set it up." He pointed at Dokyeom, "You need to make the stew, right?" 

His fellow '97 Liner nodded, "Yeah, I'll make the stew."

Hoshi, who already had his mouth full of snacks, spoke up. "There can't be too many chefs. You two be the main chefs," he decided. "Tell us if you need anything." The others agreed, knowing that too many members would just cause chaos they didn't need.

"Okay!" Mingyu exclaimed, rolling up his already short sleeves, "Let's move quickly." 

Dokyeom and Minnie had gathered at the corner of the kitchen island, eyeing the meat they had bought.

"I will do about four strips of pork," the singer clarified, "Four stripes." Glancing over at the rapper of the '97 Line, hoping to get his opinion.

He nodded, "Four strips would be good."

"What can I help you guys with? Anything I can cut up?" The girl wondered, but before DK could say anything, Mingyu shook his head.

"No, it's okay."

"But I want to help," she argued, walking over to the man by the stove. "Tell me what I can do."

He turned around, pointing straight forward. At the table. "Sit there."

The female member rolled her eyes and smacked his arm, "Stop, I'm serious." Watching him move around to gather everything he'd need. "I can hand you pots or something. A cooking spoon?"

"No," Mingyu shook his head with a chuckle, "I really don't need help."

"I could-" Not even letting her finish, the rapper grabbed her by the shoulders and moved her forward, stopping by the kitchen island.

"Just stay right here." He told her before going back to the fried rice he would be preparing on the stove.

Minnie sighed in defeat, taking her place next to Wonwoo and Minghao, who were focused on DK and Dino on the other side of the island. 

"Dokyeom-ah, can I help you with something?" She moved on to the next member, but he had already caught up on the conversation that happened behind him merely a few seconds ago.

"No, Minnie-ya. But thank you for offering."

Bored out of her mind, the female member waltzed through the room, looking around the walls and vintage display case in one of the corners. After that didn't seem to fill her boredom anymore, she stopped by the table. Wonwoo was already sitting on a chair on the left side of it.

"You need to leave the cooking to the ones who cook well," he stated, noticing the silence from the girl after she was practically thrown out of the kitchen.

"But I can cook as well," Minnie whined, "Or at least help." She took a deep breath in, "But I agree, you really shouldn't cook." Making both of them chuckle in unison.

"If I put my hands on it... not delicious," he stated, making the female member laugh with a nod.

-

She spent most of the rest of the time by the dining table, taking a few glances back at the kitchen, internally hoping, she'd get something to do. That's when her gaze fell on Mingyu, who just stood by the kitchen island... when he was supposed to be the one to cook. With scrunched eyebrows, she got up from the chair, making her way over to where more members had gathered together. That's when she saw it. Minghao had replaced the rapper's position by the stove.

She gasped quietly, "You let Hao help, but not me?" Minnie glared up at the man in front of her, who shook his head.

"Minnie-ya...," he sighed, meeting her eyes as she crossed her arms in front of her chest.

"Maybe you should live with him," she mumbled, a pout evident on her lips.

"Stop being like that," He reached out to get a hold of her arm, but she moved away swiftly. Only that she had forgotten about his much longer legs and arms. With a big step forward, he was able to grab her gently by her upper arm, pulling her to turn back around, facing him now.

"Do you really think I cook bad?" She asked him immediately, gazing up at him with her lips almost quivering. Mingyu could tell her sleepiness was catching up with her as this wouldn't be her usual behaviour. His eyes softened. He chuckled and shook his head,

"No, I don't think you cook bad. But can you please just sit back and relax. You fell asleep on the bus twice. Just rest for now." Pointing at the table, where Jeonghan was sitting now. She had already sighed too many times to count anymore.

-

At some point during their food preparations, Minnie had gotten up and rushed up the stairs to get her own zip-up hoodie, the same one Seungkwan had surprised them with. Once she was back downstairs again, the table was fully set, and the members were getting ready to sit down. The seat by the corner, next to of the dining table, right next to the main vocalist was kept free, suggesting that she could claim it for herself.

"It's comfortable, right?" Seugnkwan asked her as soon as she sat down, seeing the black hoodie engulfing her body.

The female member nodded with a smile, rubbing her hands up and down her arms, "It's really warm."

Each of them was able to put on their plate whatever their heart desired, they had enough options. Dokyeom's stew, Mingyu's meat and fried rice, the salad Dino made, along with the already cooked chicken they bought in the supermarket, as well as other small things they heated up during their cooking.

Once a spoon of the stew hit her tongue, the girl groaned in pleasure, "Woah...," she sighed, "Even on the other side of the world, Korean food still tastes so good." Getting a nod from the members next to her. "Well done, Dokyeom."

The singer grinned, "Thank you, Minnie, I'm glad you like it."

The members ate well, even if they didn't think they would, recalling their big lunch only a few hours ago. But with the variety they had, none of them could say no. Minnie filled her plate with some rice, along with the Salad the others didn't touch, due to the yellow mustard Dino had used instead of honey mustard, but the girl didn't mind.

"At least someone likes the salad," the maknae commented, noticing the girl eating it. With a piece of it in her mouth, she giggled, covering the lower half of her face.

"It's still good, Dino," nodding at him reassuringly, "You did very well."

The maknae smiled proudly, going back to finishing his own plate of food.

-

After the last member decided they couldn't put another piece of anything on the table into their mouths, the time for cleaning up arrived. Usually, the group would play a quick game to decide on the roles, but for that evening they just agreed to do it all together. Woozi and Hoshi would be in charge of washing the dishes, while the others would be cleaning up the table and collecting trash.

"What are you going to do with the leftover nuggets?" Wonwoo wondered while most of them were gathered around the table, cleaning the plates and throwing away the remains of what they had just eaten.

"We can wrap them up and put them in the fridge," Minnie suggested, holding onto two plates, on her way to get them to the sink.

"Wrap them in plastic?" He asked further.

The girl nodded, "Yeah, I'll do it here," nodding at the now almost empty counter.

"Wrap them in plastic. Wrap them in your rap," Dokyeom just spat out.

Wonwoo chuckled at the comment, "Should I?" Not even waiting for an answer, he already started, on his way into the kitchen. "YO!" 

Minnie, who came back to gather the nuggets from his hold, stopped to laugh, pushing him away from her with a slight shove.

"Oooh, nice, nice!" Joshua complimented him.

"What was that?" She chuckled along with the others. The rapper only shook his head, moving her to walk back towards the kitchen island with a hand on her back.

"What's with Wonwoo's form?" The '95 Liner wondered, still laughing along with Dokyeom.

"He really is a Hip-Hop-Unit member," Minnie commented, earning her a nudge to her side, but a round of chuckles from the guys by the table. She had found the cling foil and was about to cut a piece off it, the box of nuggets already in front of her.

"Ah..." Wonwoo sighed, "This is too big to wrap it up in my rap."

The female member shook her head again, "Stop," she couldn't hold back a giggle.

"I think we need to use Coups' rap," he explained to Dokyeom, who exclaimed his disappointment, continuing the joke.

A grin tickled Minnie's lips at the comment that came to her head. "Because he's a better rapper than you?" She teased, looking up once she heard a gasp from her fellow '97 Liner, but silence from her dormmate.

"Wow..." he met her eyes as she bit down on her lips, trying not to break into a fit of laughter. "Wow..." Wonwoo just repeated while Dokyeom was already crouching over from laughing right behind them.

Minghao, who was just on his way over to them had stopped in his tracks, "Did she say he's a better rapper than you?" With wide eyes, he glanced at the two. "Did you really?"

"I'm sorry," Minnie shyly admitted, reaching out to place her hands on the rapper's arm. Was she, though? Not really.

The reaction it got out of the members made it definitely worth it. Sometimes, they'd forget the sharp tongue the female member was born with.

"I just wanted to say because he's louder," the '96 Liner looked down at the '97 Liners who were chortling together. "Thank you."

"I'm sorry!" She laughed, wrapping her arms around his frame, her face squished up against his chest. "You're right, he's only a louder rapper than you."

Taglist: @waosobii @chaebb @lunarxsun @hoe4wonwoo @kimhyejin3108 @soobzao @billboard-singer @cosmicwintr @zwiehe @alixnsuperstxr @angie-x3 @smooore @allthings-fandoms @lllucere

[ectologia]

love your stuff!! would you be ok with making something about bakugo just being a bully?

HARD TIMES

KATSUKI BAKUGOU X F!READER

𝐂𝐖 ♱ DUBCON/NONCON, BULLYING, ABUSE, SWEATY ARMPITS, PISS, HUMILIATION, MISOGYNY, SIZE KINK, SIZE DIFFERENCE, CRUEL NICKNAMES, DEGRADATION, OBJECTIFICATION, PROFANITY

“Hey.”

You shuffle down the corridor quicker at the deep, rumbling snarl. Twisting the straps of your bag tighter in your clammy fists as you take long, purposeful strides, almost skipping in your steps.

“Hey, don’t ignore me.” A heavy palm lands on your shoulder, squeezing like a python once your back collides with the wall.

Your eyes follow the stocky blonde’s form all the way up his hard chest, chasing to confirm the two crimson rubies placed atop his tanned features like the gems of a crown.

Bakugou juts his chin upwards in an abrasive fashion the moment you whimper under the pressure of his fingertips.

“I didn’t see you in math today.”

You sweep his hand off, shuffling backwards beneath his stoic gaze. “I.. Uhm.. I switched classes..” You mumble, barely coherent under your meek breath.

“Why’s that.”

It’s not a question, nor does he care for an answer.

One thudding foot after another and he’s in your shadow, looming over you like the sun swallowing the moon.

Two thick biceps come to rest by your spinning head, propped against the wall at the perfect angle for the heady stench of his sweaty armpits to suffocate you in the tight space.

“I’m disappointed, I was looking forward to seeing my little cock-sock today.”

You turn, raising a defensive fore-arm. “Please, Bakugou. Not today, I—”

He curls a set of scarred fingers around the flimsy joint, stretching it upwards until he has you pinned like a butterfly, helpless and vulnerable against the wall.

“What’s my name?” He scoffs.

You squeal once the calloused digits tense, popping and rolling your delicate bones in a painful hug.

“Katsuki! Katsuki!”

His fist goes limp once again. “There we go.. stupid bitch.”

The heavy appendage drops back down to his side, as does yours. You rub at the red stripes left across your skin, encouraging the blood to pool back into your veins.

“I ain’t got much time, training’s in 20 minutes.”

“Huh?” Your head snaps up, brows knitted in pardon.

His eyes roll in their sockets. “Get your pussy out, need to fuck something.”

Panic strikes and you’re flinching away.

“Hey, stop acting like such a little victim — just spread ‘em.”

It takes him less than 3 seconds to do it himself. You’re hoisted up onto the window-sill with one large palm splayed across your ass, while the other comes down to paw at the fabric stretched across your chubby mound.

“Thought I told you to stop wearing these shitty shorts under your skirt.”

“I can’t, they’re part of the uniform policy!”

“Blah, blah, bitch.” He tugs at the black spandex. “All I’m hearing is you want your pussy lips burnt off.”

The fibres twang and snap under the crackling heat of his quirk, disconnecting until a grand burning hole is left in the garment.

“Katsuki!”

“That’s me.” He snickers with a toothy grin, pulling away to inspect the tiny slit between your legs.

“Did you get looser?” He cleaves the swollen folds apart, hooking two thumbs around the gooey rim of your pussyhole.

You tuck your chin into your chest, frowning down at his ministrations.

“Only joking babe.” He spanks your clit, chuckling at the way your legs jump. “She’s still good for another fuck or two.”

He wastes no time, pulling the stiff length of his fat dick out to slap against your puffed up pussy.

“Let’s do this quick, yeah? Don’t really wanna be seen piping a loser, no offence.”

You’re swung back and forth by the hinges of your knees with your feet left dangling in the air, clumsily knocking his back with every hop.

His hips clap against the crease of your thighs, pumping in and out of your sloppy cunny as the bulbous head of his cock pokes at your cervix.

“Oh, fuck, yeah. Bounce that fat-ass back on me, just like that.” He howls through the thin space of his pursed lips, huffing and puffing as he lifts you up and down on his prick.

“B— Katsuki!”

“Shh, shut up.”

He squeezes your face in between his fingers, smothering your mouth in an attempt to keep your cries to a minimum.

A dewy sheen bubbles along his hairline, darkening the beach blond spikes until the ends droop from the humidity. The way his large frame tips forward to knock his sweaty forehead against yours has you mewling, clawing at his shoulders for stability and some form of comfort as he uses you like his own girlie little flesh-light.

“Mmh.. Fuck on it, fuck on that cock, fuck on that big fat monster cock.”

His rapid thumping slows to a mellow pace as a ponderous expression befalls him. “All this humping’s making me need a piss.”

At this, you yelp. Thrashing around in his arms like a fish out of water.

He takes one step, two steps, towards the window until you’re squashed and squished against the glass.

“Well done piggie. You’ve just been promoted to Katsuki Bakugou’s new toilet.”

The torrid stream has you feeling almost bloated, on the brink of bursting as you’re pumped full off cock and piss, dribbling and squirting out of the tiny seam left in the space that Katsuki has yet to fill. Your toes curl and cripple from the positively sickening warmth of his urine spraying out of your cunt, sloshing around in what you can only assume is your womb.

“Oh, yeah. That’s the stuff…” His ears twitch at the sensation of releasing inside your body.

Your head lounges against your shoulder, floating in and out of consciousness until a stinging smack to your cheek has you shaking yourself awake.

“You passin’ out on me already?” He adjusts his position, bringing your pliable, fucked-out body closer towards his chest.

“I ain’t even cum yet, baby.”

[carolperkinsexgirlfriend]

Platonic Stobin Mind-Reading AU Part 1

Steve doesn’t notice anything is wrong at first beyond the obvious. His ears are ringing, his eye’s so swollen it feels like it’s going to pop from its socket, and his lungs don’t seem to expand fully before the pain in his ribs makes them shrivel back into themselves. 

The injection site pulses, like the viscous blue liquid is still squirming its way into his brain, writhing around its synapses to force his tongue to wrap around words that only hold the truth. It doesn’t make sense. But neither do demogorgons or demodogs or the way thoughts have been leaking out of his ears since Hargrove bashed his skull in with a kitchen plate.

He doesn’t feel truthful. If he was truthful, he’d be telling Robin about the blood slowly pooling into his sock, or how he’s pretty sure she’s the best thing that’s happened to him since Dustin Henderson showed up uninvited at his house and derailed his life. Instead, he listens to Robin come up with more and more outlandish ways that this drug will kill them. It’ll erode their brains until there’s nothing left. Their organs will explode. They’ll have to keep talking until they slowly dehydrate and die. Steve hums along, thoughts trailing along too slow to keep up with her. 

The mystery drug isn’t helping. He’s got that same giddy feeling he remembers from Friday night blunt rotations in crowded backyards, surrounded by his usual brigade of assholes. The likelihood of overdose or dismemberment ia much higher than they usually are when he feels the way, but hey, the company is better.

The overhead lights are trailing along in his vision, his cheekbone is throbbing with every invigorating heartbeat, and Robin’s head is shaking with laughter where it’s resting firmly against his own. 

Then they’re being interrogated and even as Steve talks, a little voice in the back of his head is screaming at him to shut up. He doesn’t, can’t think past the drugs and his exploding eye, and the way he’s pretty sure if Robin moves her head away from his own he’ll explode.

Then noises and screaming and Dustin fucking Henderson.

They’re running.

They’re in the back of a cart.

They’re in an elevator.

Steve experiences each in little snapshots of coherency between laughing with Robin, and holding Robin’s hand, and–he can’t seem to think past Robin. It’s like Nancy all over again but more. Concentrated. The way he can only seem to think right now when it’s in tandem with her. 

Then movies and popcorn.

Then water and a lightshow.

Then the bathroom. His thoughts are coming faster now, almost completely formed before they flit out his ears. And Robin is there. He still can’t think past her, and this is what love is like, isn’t it? The way he feels right when he’s sitting next to her. 

But even as he’s confessing he can feel a little worm squirming through his stomach, uneasy with his words as they settle between them. And as Robin drops her secret between them like a gauntlet, Steve feels the squirming feeling ramp up into gut-churning fear. He doesn’t know why he’s afraid, or how he can almost feel himself glaring at the back of his own head in Mrs. Click’s class sophomore year, or the way he can perfectly remember how Tammy Thompson’s hair curled in the diluted sunlight of the classroom when before this moment he didn’t even remember her name. 

It doesn’t matter, when He’s got Robin across from him, curling in on herself more with every second he doesn’t react.

The feeling ebbs into something softer as they make fun of a singing voice he can only barely remember. Something slides into place in the moment, like the weight of her skull on the back of his head while they’re tied back to back. Like the wisps of her hair tickling the side of his face. Like legs pressed together in a bathroom stall.

Then, Dustin fucking Henderson, and everything goes a little too fast after that. They survive by the barest threads of their little sailor suits. Billy dies. Hopper dies. 

Steve goes home.

Part 2

[regular-gnome]

Time for a random hill I am willing to die on, so what in the Titans name is Hooty

beginning with few things we know:

He is a bug type demon and demons are born from a titans body & magic

House demons are not common but also not extremely rare (coven heads are confused in Hollow Mind but Amity is like, yea, house demons do be like that)

Hooty is not dependent on the place he lives in - can freely detach himself from the house and just go somewhere what does not affect neither him nor the house

Hooty is terrotorial and protects the place he lives in

There are organs with own pulse inside the walls of the Owl House

All of this being said, I believe demons later called "house" demons were born from wounds on titans body. After titan got hurt, lost an eye in some manner, a bug type demon formed or moved into the wound establishing in there sort of symbiotic relationship. Maybe protecting the space from other creatures that did try to feed on the wound. Long after titans were gone they just continued to live in crevices and protect spaces around them what was later was used by witches to guard their homes earning them the name "house" demon.

Role of house demons on titans might be similar to the one of Oxpeckers on big animals that are unable to get rid of small parasites. Titans are huge and seeing how some characters were literally walking through their empty veins it would be extremely difficult for them to get rid of pests themselves.

On how is he attached to the space around him, I think he might have some kind of specialised organ letting him attach and form new connections to the space around him.

With time the connections gaining mass and requiring better energy flow they start form organs around the space and a circulation system (that's why there is a pulse even after Hooty is not longer in the door). And that's also why King, Lilith and Luz might have had such disgusted reactions to seeing him leave his place. But whatever he uses to attach to the house it might be pretty vulnerable, so he acts like a hermit crab getting from one shell to another and thats how we get porta Hooty.

But HEY if he has organs that connect him to the house why can he just take of his skin like a sock. My brother in Titan. Skin is a organ too and we literally saw him leave some spare ones in the door. There is literally nothing that says he even requires it and cant be just a skeleton horror with only the essentials near base of his body.

On why I dont think he is a parasite like Cymothoa exigua (tongue eating louse) is because I'm pretty sure Titan would be able to get rid of them himself (and it would mean Hooty ate his way into the titan witch I refuse to consider). It can't be comfortable to have a weird bug in your eye socket just singing to themself all day, so they had to have benefited from it somehow, or at least didnt mind, as Hooty is protective of his space that wouldnt be a strech. Also if they were parasites it would just add insult to injury if they hanged around even after death xD

Im sure Im not the first one to have this thought but I literally searched for theories on him and only found the parasite interpretation witch I don't vibe that much with

and while we are at the topic of Hooty I highly encourage to listen to unhinged Dutch Hooty, I was in tears the first time I heard him. Apologies for video quality tho, it refused work any other way

[pjackk]

In Tekken 8 there will be a new character named Windwhistle. He practices an MMA style fusion of BJJ and Mystical Tai Chi. He is 38 years old. He has a sexy skinny twunky body. He has defined very thin and abdomen. He has sexy muscular collar bone. He has a tight waist. His calves are defined but not huge. His nipples are a subtle dark apricot hue. His nipples are small and turn erect on final round. He was born in Cuba but he grew up in southern China. In his adulthood, he travelled to Northern Alberta to work in the tar sands. His areolas is large relative to other male characters. His skin is a lightly bronzed color. On his left forearm there is a tattoo of a sheep. On his right forearm there is a tattoo of a wolf. His cheekbones are very defined. His jaw is very defined. He has deep eye sockets in a sexy way. His eyes are beautiful. His eyes are shining. His left eye is a bloody burgundy hue. His right eye is a deep sea indigo hue. His hair goes down to his neck. His hair is dark and curly. His hair has a lime green streak that goes down the front. He is clean shaven. He loves techno music. He loves EDM music. He loves DNB music. He loves experimental drugs. He goes into full power fury mode after taking experimental drugs. His breasts are large and tender. His breasts are large enough to be firmly grabbed by other human adult males. His cock is 3" long flaccid. His cock is 7" long erect. His cock has a 3" girth flaccid. His cock has a 4" girth erect. His balls are average sized. His balls sag slightly in an alluring way. His ass is large and firm. His ass is spanked and red. He loves for his big ass to be spanked red. He wears black bootleg timberlands. He wears tall black socks that go up to his knees. He wears black cargo shorts that are tight and accentuate his big ass. The bottom of his ass cheeks show from under his shorts tight. He wears a black henley style shirt with buttons that go down to under his breasts. He keeps his shirt unbuttoned to show his breasts. His chest is hairy. His breasts are hairy. His abdomen is not very hairy. He has a trail of hair going up from his pubes to his belly button. He has his zipper and belt and button on his shorts undone to show his dark curly pubes. His thighs are hairy. His calves are hairy. You can see his armpits if you look down his sleeves. His armpits are hairy. His armpits are sweaty on the final round. He has a full throw game. He can wave dash. He has a comboing hellsweep with a maximum for 45 damage. Is df2 punch is safe and launches. He can use a 16 frame unblockable deagle shot high in heat mode. He eats a slice of galic chicken pizza and flips you off when he wins. He has a 1+2 break comboing throw that sets up an unblockable shuriken throw after bounding. He throws three shurikens in heat mode so that you cannot avoid them by sidestepping. He is knocked unconscious and drools on his breasts when he loses. He is loading his deagle and says "Let's burn it all down" in his intro animation. He wears a golden ring with a shattered bloodstone on his left pinky finger. His right ear is pierced. He wears a diamond stud on his right ear. He has an unusually long tongue. He loves RC cars. He has a taunt move where he erotically sucks on a dumdum. He has an armored headbutt move. If his armored headbutt move counter hits, he grabs the opponent and takes them all the way to the wall. He loves cartoons. He loves French style sandwiches. He loves candle wax being melted onto his tummy. He is implied to be Jin Kazama's father. He is implied to be Josie Rizal's ex husband. He is implied to be Jun Kazama's ex husband. He is implied to be Kazuya Mishima's ex husband. He is implied to be Craig Marduk's ex husband. He is implied to be Lili Rochefort's ex husband. He is implied to be Paul Phoenix's ex husband. He is implied to be Prototype Jack's ex husband. He is implied to be Sergei Dragunov's ex husband. He is implied to be Master Raven's ex hu

[cy-cyborg]

Tips for Writing and Drawing Amputees: Bandaged Stumps

When writing and drawing amputee characters, unless your character only just lost their limb, they don't need to wear a bandage over their stumps.

to be clear, eda's depiction in the show was fine, since she'd only just lost her arm and went (presumably) without any medical attention, but because the show didn't have much time to show her afterwards, I've noticed a tendency of the fandom to draw her wearing the bandage permanently, so that's why I'm picking on her for my example lol.

It's a bit of a trope at this point, and I think it comes from one of a few different places:

Amputees do wear bandages on their stumps, but usually only for the first 6-12 weeks post-amputation, sometimes longer if the amputation was a result of a burn. It's possible people saw this though and assumed it was permanent.

Most amputees wear a sock made of either cotton or silicone under their prosthetics to provide them with some extra padding. These socks, called liners, often stick out from the top of the prosthetic socket and could possibly be mistaken for a bandage from a distance.

Some amputees will wear compression garments for a few months to a few years after their amputations which could also be mistaken for a bandage from a distance. These garments are designed to stop swelling and reduce phantom pain, but they aren't bandages.

Stumps get cold easier because their circulation typically isn't as good as the rest of the body, so some amputees will wear socks over them even if they aren't wearing a prosthetic to keep warm, which again could be mistaken for a bandage from a distance.

This one is funny, but in my experience unfortunately, it's the most common: people think the end of an amputee's stump is just a perpetual open wound that never heals. Meaning to avoid "gore" it needs to be covered. I've met fully grown adults who believed this until I showed up to work/uni without my prosthetics or socks on.

People are uncomfortable with seeing an uncovered stump and so put bandages over it to avoid confronting their biases.

Some combination of these points.

But yeah, unless your amputee has only just lost their limb in the last few weeks, they don't need a bandage.

The ironic thing too, is that for most amputees, bandaging a stump is nearly impossible. I've been in and out of hospital since I was 1 year old and only ever met 3 nurses and no doctors/surgeons who could successfully bandage my stump in a way that the bandage would even stay on. This is because stumps are usually tapered in shape (meaning they are wider at the top, closer to the body, and thinner at the bottom), so gravity will pull the bandage off 9 times out of 10.

On a final note: it's ok to show your amputee's stump, it's not gore, there's no blood, it just looks like a regular limb that just stops early. In fact, if you are writing/creating anything for kids or that is likely to be seen by kids, I encourage you to show your amputee's stumps at least once. I used to work on a disability awareness program for kids, and I lost count of the amount of times kids were terrified of me, because they all expected my leg to be bloody and gory. For a lot of kids, I was their first real-life exposure to an amputee, meaning they'd never even heard of people like me, or they had seen an amputee on TV, but because the show went out of its way to avoid showing the person's stump, they assumed it must have been because there was "something scary at the end" that they weren't supposed to see (kids are surprisingly perceptive, they will pick up on stuff like that without you realising). And scared kids aren't good at articulating why they're scared, and would often say really mean or hurtful things to me. I knew not to take it personally and learned how to handle those situations, but not everyone is used to dealing with kids. For a new amputee (or anyone who's less confident in their disability), the kinds of things those kids would say could be absolutely confidence destroying. I never blame the kids, it's not their fault, but the whole situation could have been avoided if they had seen people like us before they had the chance to hear the wrong info. Good representation like this can be the difference between a kid crying, making throw-up sounds and calling an amputee "disgusting monsters" (all things I've had kids do/say) and them just being like "oh ok, cool."

[graylinesspam]

I picked her up like a stray cat.

Down an alley way, getting beaten by other people, just because they could. Mean and ruthless, that's the way many have become since the collapse.

I could have kept walking past. I'm not sure why I didn't. Maybe I'm just nice like that. Or maybe I'd just seen too many people getting hasted that day.

Whatever the reason, I knocked those goons heads together. Just cause I could.

I didn't expect nothing out of her. Figured she'd just stand there and let me pass, or maybe run away. But she didn't.

I took one step and she followed. All the way out of the alley. Down six streets and through til the hold came into view.

we weren't at capacity yet. The leader had been letting us bring "companions" in and out. I guess they assumed they were like some kind of comfort women or something.

I could have stopped her. Turned her away at any point. But I kinda wanted to see what she'd do. Why she'd followed.

I didn't have anything worth stealing. Or enough enemies to assume she'd slit my throat in my sleep. So I let her crawl into the little cornered off space that was my my rack.

She just sat down on the rug.

She was quiet. I don't think she spoke my language.

That suited me just fine.

She ate when I ate. Slept when I slept. Even showered next to me in those moldy fucking showers they were providing us with.

She never wandered more than a few feet from my side. Went out on assignment with me. I stuck to mostly mining work. Nothing far underground. Just scrapping metal ores out of the dirt.

It took her two weeks of watching to understand the process. She gathered too. Not much. Enough to cover a second set of meals though.

Her hands cracked and broke up under the labor. But still, she never spoke.

I'd guessed by that point she was only looking for safety. Maybe she thought if she stuck beside me, I'd protect her.

From the others of her kind, sure, I suppose. But I'm nothing impressive by the standards of my own species. Labor has made my hand hard and strong but I was below average in other physical aspects.

I couldn't exactly explain that to her.

She was a little like a pet in the way she was silent and minimal. But there was something observant in her eyes as well.

She began detecting ore lines better than my scanning equipment could. Whenever the rain came down, she'd sniff the air like she could smell the metal in the air, and lead me to another line.

It was a beneficial enough partnership. She earned her keep and a little extra in those first months. Enough that I purchased her a mat to lay down on that old rug. Keep her from sleeping on the floor.

But it wasn't long before I learned how wrong I was about our arrangement.

I hadn't been making too much of a profit before she came along. Then she was there and I was more focused on feeding her than thinking about how all her credits were in my name.

Some other lads from the guild thought I had more than my fair share and broke into my end of the barracks to redistribute it. I had been asleep, startled awake by the door slamming open.

There was two of them. I couldn't get up fast enough before they had me pinned to the rack. There were other minors in the racks across from me, but they minded their own business while I took blows to my abdomen.

But the little human? I thought she'd ran to find safety else where. But she'd climbed up onto the desk beside us, bunched herself at the knees and flew through the air toward the bastard holding me down.

Her dull little teeth latched onto the back of his bald head, her claws raking over his face. One finger sunk into his eye socket and the pain yanked him back far away from me.

I grabbed the other one by his hair, slammed his head into the wall until he dropped.

When I turned to her she had rolled across the floor closer to me, crouched and staring at the other one. He was holding his bloody face, empty socked filling with blood.

Evidently an eye was more than he had planned to lose to me, he took his pride with him and fled.

I'd heard tell that humans were loyal but those were the clean well kept one from the star ships. I didn't think a back alley stray had the same kindness in them.

Well, maybe it wasn't kindness. But it was good enough for me.

She slept in the rack after that.

[multiwreckedmess]

Kinktober Day 12

Prompt: Somno Pairing: Boyfriend!Han x fem!reader WC: 1.3k Summary: He hates that he’s always working late. Luckily you have a unique arrangement.

This is a work of fiction, it does not represent Han or any Stray Kids member. On top of this it is an 18+ work. For my comfort and boundaries please if you are under age do not interact with this. 

I feel the need especially with “rougher” prompts like this to put the disclaimer - fanfic should NOT ever be used as a guide to relationships or sex. ESPECIALLY SEX. Again, it’s fiction. Stuff gets glossed over for the sake of a good story. Please PLEASE please again, not fact, not a guide, just a fantasy.

Additional TW/CW Below the cut

CW/TW: reader called baby, blindfold, natural sleep aids taken, dry humping, fingering (fem receiving), no gendered language but reader has a vagina, very sleepy sex, cockwarming, cumming inside.

DUBCON specifics: Reader is asleep but previously discussed/established boundaries. Even so, because consent is continuous it’s hard not to argue that it’s…dubious still. But as it is the prompt…yeah.

 Scattered lights dimly light the apartment to great Han as the door creaks open. You’ve been asleep for hours, he hopes. His eyes burn, the sockets lined with sandpaper. Each blink is painful. Clothing scatters in his wake like a graham cracker trail to the bedroom door, leaving him in just his socks and underwear.  You’re not a heavy sleeper. Worse, you’re not really a sleeper at all. Even worse is you’re even less likely to sleep when your Han isn’t there to hold you as you drift off. So when he finds you flat out on your back, eyemask lowered, lips slightly parted. The sound you make isn’t exactly a snore or a wheeze. It’s slow, heavy, audible breathing, chest rising and falling with it. Han’s heart swells in his chest, you’re peaceful, so perfect. The world is still, the world is his. You are his world.  He practically holds his breath as he crawls onto the bed beside you even though he knows. He knows you likely won’t wake up from the text he’d gotten nearly three hours prior. A quick note;  “Love you! Hope work goes well. I’ll be out out so don’t worry about waking me up”  Sent with a wink. It’s a code. “Don’t worry about waking me up” was the agreed upon phrase that he could do whatever he wanted to you when he got back. That you wanted him to do whatever he wanted. “I’ll be out out” was new. In your search to find a natural remedy to your sleep issues you’d stumbled upon a perfect combination of valerian root, magnesium, lavender, cbd and melatonin. A five finger punch straight to the frontal lobe that sent you into a near coma for six hours.  Han looms over you, gaze trailing down from the curve of your cheek to your chest to your legs. Holding his breath for fear the breeze will wake you he lightly swipes his thumb across your lower lip. It’s soft, your breath teases the top of his hand. He lightly tugs it lower, a small test that you pass with flying colors. Your mouth looks so soft and your body is so pliant. Blood rushes to his dick so quickly he gets lightheaded. Backing off from your slumbering form to collect himself, he slides into the covers beside you, curling a leg around yours. The cotton and spandex of his underwear is rough against his length as he ruts against your thigh.  He tries his best to control his actions, all of the sleep aids counldn’t keep you that way forever. Even so he couldn’t help his hand drifting up your soft stomach to your nipple, absentmindedly playing with the hardened nub.  A moan made of mostly air escapes your mouth, your chest arching into his hands.  “You like that, baby?” He mutters as his tongue darts out to flick the nipple closest. “Having a good dream?” His cock throbs at the thought, hips pressing harder into your side. He can barely see your expression with the eyemask on, a minor inconvenience for a deeper slumber. Still your head cranes back into the pillow as he returns to your chest. Han was always worried somehow you were faking it. Here in total slumber, you couldn’t. He loved it. Knowing each soft moan and writhe was earnest.

 Your moans slowly turned to whines as he took his time with your tits. Needier and needier your legs shift and angle your hips towards him more. Mouth held tight to your nipple he slips two fingers into you easily. If your sex could be weather it would be classified as torrential. Slick seeping from you as you rock with him.  “Hannie,” your voice is a whisper of a whine in his ear.  “It’s me baby, go back to sleep,” his chest rumbles against you, quiet and low. Seemingly you take that as gospel and ease back into your dreamy state. Slowly Han pushes your hips back flat to the mattress, licking his fingers clean of your mess.  He knows what he wants to do next is a gamble. Your walls are just so much smaller than his girth. And on top of that you’d just woken up. Still, his cock throbs painfully, leaking precum on your thigh. Thumb swiping at the tip in a useless effort to clean it Han considers your mouth. Soft and wet as your cunt. Nearly as inviting. Perfectly parted. Still the bitter tang of precum unexpectedly hitting your tongue would surely have you wide awake. If not the taste then certainly the saliva as it pooled in your mouth.  “Hannnnnieeee,” you whimper again, your hand sliding down to your wetness. Sleepy and desperate. Your mouth curls into a pout, hand giving up its journey. A soft disappointed huff blows air from your nostrils.  Nudging the blunt head of his cock at your entrance, he strokes your cheek, gently stirring you. Not enough to fully wake you. “Baby, I’m here. This will be so quick I promise.” He holds your chin in his palm as he fills you in one strong thrust. His painstaking ministrations paying off.

 “JI-” your gasp choking back as you arch up to meet him. Your sex aches, but not from the sudden intrusion. “Fuck- Han-oh!” You reach down to touch yourself, the moment your fingers graze your entrance stretched around him you cum. Hours of dreamy edging releasing over his length, leaving you just as dazed as when you first stirred. A wave of endorphins flooding your brain, your tired head collapsing back into the downy pillow.  “Shh, babe, you can go back to sleep,” Han says as he smooths his hand over your shoulder, holding still with his hips. He can feel your pulse flutter through your walls as you slacken again below him. Ever so gently he pours his weight over you like a blanket, holding some of his weight in his arms. Careful to not jostle you more than he has to he begins to slowly and shallowly thrust against you. More of a grind than a thrust, your bodies barely separating. Rolling his hips as your walls tug at his cock, he’s in heaven. Eyes glazing over he lets his body relax more, more weight coming down on you. He can feel himself fading, angling his torso more to the side of you as to not crush your lungs. His vision darkens and he can feel himself unwillingly slip in to a drowsy darkness as your walls pulse around him. Days of sleeplessness melt away as his body relaxes into you.

 Han’s body is nearly shutting down, like a flashlight with nearly empty batteries he flickers in and out of consciousness. He needs to cum now or he’ll shut off without sweet release. Quickly he realizes once he cums, he’ll be too tired to drag himself off of you.  So he rolls, bringing your thigh over his hip to keep you open to him. Hand cupping your ass he grunts. Two deep thrusts is all it takes for him to spill inside of you. His shoulder falling forward as he dozes off, warm and relaxed.  A warm drip between your thighs jostles you from sleep. Birds are chirping. Your walls clamp immediately to prevent the leaking from getting worse. Groaning you try to roll to the other side, Han’s warm breath tickling your chest. Untangling from him you feel it, him popping free from you, asleep and still semi erect in your heat.  “Hannie I’m still messy,” you whine. “You never clean your toys.” You really should get up and clean off or at least slip some underwear on. Instead you roll to your other side, ass to him and wiggle back expectantly.  “We clean when done-” he murmurs half asleep.

Soooft sleepy boy. I love my soft cuddle boy Han.

[sunlightmurdock]

okay apocalypse dbf!jake will not let me go again so- I need the confession 🙏 I need the tear-stained first kiss after an attack, with too much adrenaline and too little care for the inappropriate age gap

EEK me either me either me either ! I’m so insane about him rn

And I feel like this particular attack would be a big one. Resources are running low and Jake won’t leave you up on that mountain by yourself, so he has no choice but to bring you with him. He has done what he can, preparing you for this.

It scares you, even when it’s just all pretend with him. He’s not as kind when he’s training you. Even as you’re crying and telling him to stop it, that you don’t want to, he’s yelling and insisting that you aim straight and breathe — that these things won’t stop no matter how much you cry, or scream, or beg.

He doesn’t mean to be cruel. It would be far more cruel to leave you unprepared, to let something happen to you.

This is a low stakes run, but you can feel that he’s unhappy having you here. It’s itching at you that maybe it’s because you couldn’t hit that target last time. He had tied a thick tree branch to a length of rope, pushed hard, and let it swing. Your first moving target. Not so much as a chip in the wood. You’ve got a pretty big knife, one that could tear muscle from bone— he won’t give you a gun.

You know he’s focused on protecting you, it’s an awful feeling to think that you may not be able to do the same for him, especially after all he has done for you so far.

It’s a gas station, back off of the road, early enough on that it hasn’t yet been completely raided. Heavy metal shutters cover the windows, but Jake makes quick work of the padlocks on the back door. The power has all gone out by now, it’s just the light from your flashlights to guide the way. Jake is two paces ahead, close enough to jump back and pull you behind him if he needs.

It’s eerily quiet. You’re stuck to him like a shadow as he surveys for danger, and ultimately decides that it’s okay.

Keep away from the doors and windows, stay where I can see you. Dejected and feeling more uselessly childish than you have in a long time, you sweep the shelves and take what you can while Jake does the same. Continually, he checks over top of the shelves to see if he can see the top of your head.

It’s going too well, it tricks you both into thinking that this is going to be easy. You’re focused, on your knees and rummaging through the medicines to take everything you could need. You don’t even notice the noise that you’re making. Jake doesn’t mind the rummaging sounds, it means he can hear where you are without needing to watch.

But then, so can the employee who took such care to fortify this place before he took swallowed back a cocktail and pills the second that he saw his home in flames and his undead mother staggering around on the news footage. He made himself comfortable before he passed. His shoes and his jacket are in the back room. His socks are almost silent against the linoleum as he staggers around the corner.

He’s tall, and skinny, and hadn’t hurt anyone in his entire life. But he’s close enough by the time you spot him that his height gives you no room to stand up. His eyes are wide and gorging, the sockets sullen and lifeless. You haven’t seen one of them so clean before, part of him still looks human. His lips are pulled back, animal, growling weakly as he reaches for you and tumbles forwards.

Jake hears the scream and he swears that he’s going to be too late. Even just across the floor of the gas station — it takes seconds for one of those things to get their jaws around you. He’s sick to his stomach, his gun pulled and the safety off, uncaring about if the sound draws attention for miles around.

He rounds the corner and spots the puddle of dark, thick blood first. His heart sinks to his stomach, until he realises that it isn’t yours. You push the corpse back, off of you. Your knife is plunged through the socket of its eye, it’s dead. You take one look at Jake, and crumble, tears pouring from your eyes as you stare at your blood soaked hands.

“Shh, I’m here. Shh, shh, shh. You’re okay,” Jake whispers, sinking to his knees and pulling you off of the floor, cradling you in his arms as he kisses the top of your head. “It’s alright, I’m right here. You’re safe, you’re okay.”

“I didn’t— I didn’t see it— it was —“

“I know, sweet girl,” Jake whispers, rubbing soothingly at your back. He presses his lips together and kisses softly at your temple. “You did so good. You did it. You’re alright now.”

Again, Jake kisses your temple softly, hugging you closer. His weight and his smell, his strong arms wrapped around you. All of it almost makes you forget where you are. Blinking back any more tears, you turn your head as he kisses at your temple again. This time, you’re looking at him as he pulls back.

Tears soaking your lashes and your cheeks, staring up at him. Jake’s throat feels thick, his mouth suddenly dry as your fingers press into his arms. You are okay, you did it. He’s here. You sit forwards first, and Jake’s met with the exact thing that he has been trying to stop himself from thinking about for these past few weeks. Your lips are just as soft as they look, and your hands pawing at his arms make him melt into you.

Before all of this, Jake tried so hard to fight it. You’re so much younger. Your father would have never approved. Now, he supposes — it doesn’t matter. What matters, is keeping you safe, and he’s so glad that you’re safe.

His hand grabs firmly at the nape of your neck as he presses closer, deepening his hold on you, kissing you firmly.

[frankcastlescumslut]

A House in Nebraska

pairing: frank castle x f!reader

word count: 3.8k

warnings: gore, violence, minor character death, amy bendix (lol), language, angst!!, eventual smut

summary: He was afraid of you. Afraid that you had made up your mind and had enough of him, that this was the final straw. But the worst thing, he decided, was the possibility that this, that he, was enough for you—that you would pledge your loyalty to a man like him. To a life like this.

a/n: hey! I’ve been sitting on this idea for months and finally ready to work on it :) this will definitely be a two-parter(maybe more), but I’m selfishly enjoying this little AU loosely following season 2!!!!

next chapter

comments/reblogs/likes are so appreciated, I love to hear your thoughts <3

“So… how did you guys meet?” “Stay still.” The strong stench of rubbing alcohol burned your nostrils as you leaned over, her foot tapping mindlessly beneath her crossed legs. “You didn’t answer my question.” “Amy,” you interrupted, her blue eyes baring right back into yours. “If you want me to paint your nails, sit still.” She huffed at that. You were used to it by now, never taking her attitude personally because being sixteen was hard enough, so you paid no mind. It was almost reminiscent, a painful familiarity with the way she embodied your sister, but you chose to forget the feeling like your life depended on it. In a way, it did.

Her nail disappeared beneath a glossy black polish, the surrounding skin also falling victim to an unsteady hand. She let out a sigh and continued to count the number of stripes on her socks.

“We met in Nebraska.” “Nebraska?” She sounded disgusted, and the small room filled with laughter. “What the hell is in Nebraska?” “Absolutely nothing.”

Ghosts. Distant memories. Everything was in Nebraska.

It’s where he found you, hiding as some housekeeper in a shitty motel. You were both running from things neither of you cared to talk about while sober, so you didn’t, but he kept looking for reasons to come back.

He blamed it on the esteemed breakfast, a vending machine honeybun, but you saw through him like he was an apparition haunting your strained heartstrings.

Come with me, he asked. Where to? You didn’t really care.

You were in too deep by the time you made it to Michigan—you both were, and yet neither one of you would admit it. There was something sacred about the secrecy and inability to label what you both knew was love, or something like that; it was too precious, and you avoided any chance at jinxing it.

“But you two are together, though, right?” Amy was obsessed with knowing everything. You think it’s her way of pretending that everything was fine. Fine.

“No.” “Oh.” She straightened a bit, and you didn’t miss the way her brows furrowed. “That disappoint you?” “A little.” “Good,” you smirked. “You’re too nosey.” “I call it a healthy amount of curious.” Her back hunched again, and she watched the way your eyebrows scrunched over her fingers. “You guys are shit at hiding it, anyway.” You chuckled at that, manually manipulating her hand to inspect your work. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” “Oh come on,” she says matter-of-factly. “You guys fuck.” “Amy!” You could feel your eyes bulging from their sockets. “I knew it!” She clapped her hands before jumping from the mattress. “You don’t know anything.” “Oh come on,” she searched your face, expecting to find any confirmation to her assumptions, instead finding your lack of eye contact disappointing. “Not even once?” “No,” you lied. “Happy?” “Not really.”

The mattress failed to hide the sound of her disappointment as she threw her body onto the spare bed. You allowed yourself to find amusement in her attitude long enough to sift through a dirty duffel bag, keeping your mind occupied with something other than Frank’s absence.

Gaining Amy meant losing Frank. Hour by hour, piece by piece, chunk of flesh by chunk of flesh. The waiting never grew easier, but you adjusted, just like you always do, ending up in motels that smelled like damp polyester and cigarettes.

“I’m starving,” she groaned, pulling you from your thoughts. “We’ll get something soon.” Your stomach gurgled in agreement.

Static crackled throughout the room, momentarily stunning you, before being replaced by a weather report.

High of 89 today with an 80 percent chance of rain, folks! Grab an umbrella and stay dry!

You laughed to yourself at that—stay dry—like you ever left those shitty rooms.

It was bittersweet with Amy. You missed the sun. You missed the late night diner runs. You missed waking up to forehead kisses and soft touches. You missed the easiness of it all, pretending to be two normal people that had two normal lives, and now you were confined to a room that reeked of nail polish and gunpowder. A prisoner and caretaker.

“What do you want for dinner?” you asked, attempting to lighten the mood. “Huh?” “Dinner,” you stated. “I’ll go when—“ A knock at the door ended your conversation. “Amy,” you locked eyes with her, “get in the closet.” Your voice dropped to a whisper as you pointed the gun towards the door. “No, it’s fine!“ She practically leapt from the cheap mattress. “Closet. Now.” Your arm aches almost as much as your stomach as Amy reaches for the door handle. She was so far away, it seemed, and your legs felt cemented to the floor. “I ordered food,” she smiled, opening the door to reveal a woman holding a box. “See?”

It felt like you were staring at one of your polaroids; Amy looked pleased, beaming at you with a sense of accomplishment that she got dinner. That she could do things. That she didn’t need your help—Frank’s help. Her smile was radiant, and for a moment, you almost felt sorry for her.

“You can keep the change,” Amy offered the woman a handful of cash before turning to you with that same naivety.

Stupid, stupid girl.

You knew it was coming, and yet your stomach still dropped when her smile faded and her eyes bulged from their sockets. Amy’s lips moved frantically, but you were too focused on the way the woman’s gun left imprints against her temple.

Stupid, stupid girl.

The woman looked satisfied, puffing out her broad chest while Amy tried to talk her way out of it. “Kid,” you commanded her attention, ignoring the way you could hear Frank’s voice in the back of your head. She stared back at you, tears welling in her eyes, and you hoped to God that she would understand what you meant as you meticulously cocked your head towards the closet.

The stranger wasn’t an idiot, and she shuffled backwards, somehow digging the gun further into Amy’s head. “If you try anything funny—“

Point. Shoot. Kill.

Amy flinched as warm blood decorated her cheeks like a crimson blush.

You wish you could embrace her and muster out a lie—that it’s all over, that everything is okay now, that things can go back to normal, but you can’t, so you pull her into the room. “Closet, now.”

She listened, for once, ducking her head and hurrying to the small space Frank had designated as hers. A part of you selfishly wished she had fought back against your order. Maybe then things would feel normal, and you could pretend that the brain matter surrounding the door frame was some maximalist’s creative direction. Maybe then you could imagine that the body below you was just a rolled up carpet that was being discarded because it was too much of an eyesore for the motel regulars.

You pretended, ignoring the corpse’s vacant gaze as you patted its body, shoving any remaining bits of your humanity down as you pocketed a wallet and fully loaded gun.

Point. Shoot. Kill.

It was one of the first lessons you had learned while on your own, and one that Frank never let you forget. He was right, unfortunately, and heavy footsteps reiterated the importance of the mantra as they approached your temporary home.

There weren’t many places for you to hide, but you made it work, you had to. The bathroom was small and smelled like mildew, but you couldn’t care about the dangers of black mold when you had a target on your back. The gun felt lighter in your hand this time, and your posture felt natural as you crouched against the bathroom wall.

Time didn’t exist in moments like this. The moments where the world sounded like warm, rushing blood and high pitched screeching. Moments where you become reduced to your primal state, clenching jaw and eyes blown wide as they study the mirrored motel room. Moments where you held your breath, watching and waiting in anticipation of who would barge into your temporary sanctuary, noting the constant footsteps..

The footsteps never stopped, not even as they stepped over the limp body and pooled blood. You foolishly hoped you would have been met with the familiar darkened gaze, that he would lift you by your shoulders and tell you that you did good, but the man that barged into the room was ruthless. Cold-blooded.

His gun was already drawn, spraying the mattresses and walls with bullets and fury, sending drywall crumbling and flaking onto your head and shoulders.

Point. Shoot. Kill.

You inhaled, not even considering it could be the last time your lungs expanded to its full capacity, before glancing in the mirror a final time.

You looked like a version of yourself you had buried long ago—a version that hadn’t emerged since you had left home. It was reminiscent of something you fought to avoid, but you couldn’t run this time, not as the pang of gunshots echoed throughout the motel room.

He moved quickly, and you wondered if he was trained on the same basis: shoot first, ask later. He wasn’t the first one you had encountered, trigger-happy and determined, and you knew they always ran out of bullets quicker than they should.

Your golden opportunity sounded like a few seconds of silence followed by a huff of air leaving your lips before you reached around the corner, catching the man off guard as you unleashed three rounds towards his rigid frame.

“God damnit!” he shouted as a bullet ripped through the meat of his thigh.

His eyes were black, rolling into the sockets like a blood hungry shark, and you genuinely thought his teeth would crumble under the pressure of his clenched jaw.

The bathroom was no solace; you were cornered, backed into a cage like an animal waiting for its turn to be brought to the slaughterhouse. Surrendering wasn’t an option. It didn’t exist for people like the one hunting you—for people like Frank.

The thought of Frank coming back to your makeshift home, littered with blood and bodies, made your stomach churn. It meant you failed, that you weren’t capable of keeping up with him, and it was embarrassing. You failed him; you failed Amy, and you failed yourself once again, though that mattered little anymore.

Your golden moment was quickly interrupted by the sound of grunting and a continuous stream of popping inching towards your hiding place. The wall exploded and ceramic tile flew towards your face before you realized what was happening, and you instinctively receded towards the small spot between the toilet and cabinet.

“Come on out, honey,” he called. “Can’t hide forever!”

You could tell he was hovering outside the remnants of the doorframe, probably waiting for you to crawl out so he could pretend to be merciful by putting a bullet in your head, but his labored breathing told you everything he wasn’t. Your guess was a severed artery, and although he should be down by now, you learned to never underestimate a man with nothing left to lose and steadied your gun on the edge of the counter.

“Just tell me where the girl is and we can figure this out like adults!” “Like adults?” You called out, scanning the bathroom for anything that could help your situation. “Sure,” he huffed out. “We can play house after this. What do you say?”

The toe of his boot peeked around the corner, and your body moved before your mind could catch up.

The man let out a guttural scream and folded in half, instinctively grabbing his bleeding foot. You wasted no time yanking the cheap plastic shower curtain from its holdings before leaping towards the assailant.

He looked like a beached shark, thrashing beneath the fogging curtain, but felt more like a mechanical bull as you held onto him with your thighs, tightening your grip around the curtain.

It happened quickly. So quickly that you hadn’t registered the throbbing pain in the base of your skull as you crashed into the already crumbling drywall. You weren’t sure how he stood, how he gained enough momentum to fling you off of him, but your mind and body remained disconnected as he towered over you.

“I’m gonna ask you one more time,” the man coughed, failing to cover his mouth. “Where’s the girl?”

This wasn’t supposed to be the end. This was humiliating, and yet there you were, blinking away stars and choking on dust. You attempted to sit up straight, regaining your dignity, before your knuckles hit the familiar carbon steel.

There was only one shot, and you prayed Amy had made it out and ran as far away from you as she could—this wasn’t a place for young girls, yet you felt small enough in that moment. This wasn’t the way things were supposed to be.

Point. Shoot. Kill.

He fell with a great thud, nearly landing on top of you. His mouth and eyes were still open, completely unsuspecting of his demise, and you were hypnotized by the crimson dripping from the bullet-sized hole in his forehead.

It was seamless, and you think Frank would have been proud had he walked in through the blown out door, but he doesn’t. Nobody was coming.

“He talked too much.” Her voice startled you, and you instinctively reached for the gun. “Whoa,” she warned, “it’s okay, it’s just me.” She showed her palms, emerging fully from the small closet.

“Amy,” you whispered, afraid that she was just an apparition.

“You okay?” She knew it was a stupid question the second it left her mouth, but she asked anyway—she at least meant it.

“Fine,” you huffed, pushing yourself to your feet. “We have to leave.”

“Leave? What about Frank?”

You had already limped across the room, adding the new guns and wallets to the duffel bag, and didn’t need to see the confusion on her face to know she was skeptical of your plan. “He’ll find us,” you tried to believe yourself, but you knew he would understand.

You’d had this conversation before; if anything were to happen to him, you and Amy were to find a Madani somewhere in New York. It was a 10 hour drive, but you were confident you could make it in six if you left now.

The room felt smaller with two bodies and crumbled drywall littering the floor. You could ignore the claustrophobic feel, but Amy stood frozen in place, studying the tread marked puddle of blood beneath her feet.

“Hey,” you started, “look at me. Look at me, Amy.”

She was pale, her eyes sunken into their sockets. It was impossible to make sense of how she looked so young, yet so hardened at that moment, but there wasn’t enough time to wonder. “Amy, we have to go, okay?” Her cheeks were soft beneath your palms. You tried to pull her from her trance, begging her to come back to the shitty motel room of death, but she stayed tucked away in the safest corner of her mind.

“You’re bleeding,” she muttered. “What?” “Bleeding. You’re bleeding.”

Her eyes led a trail to the soft curve of your waist. Your shirt stuck to your skin with an uncomfortable warmth, and you pretended it didn’t ache when you placed a few fingers over the gash.

You wanted to laugh at the irony, deluding yourself with a false sense of accomplishment. It was always too good to be true, and you were reminded of the cruel fact that things could always be worse as the sound of heavy footsteps pulled you from the pain. Amy ran towards the familiar hiding spot without being told, and your heart broke into smaller pieces.

It was getting old, the pointing and shooting and killing. It was getting old, and you were tired of calling the shots—you were tired of waiting for Frank to come back.

Fuck him. Fuck him for leaving you. Fuck him for leaving Amy. Fuck him for making you add two more heads to your roster.

Your arm ached as you leveled the gun, and you let out a sharp cry as your skin pulled in separate directions, the cotton of your shirt peeling from the wet wound. It was a matter of seconds before you would claim your next victim, but all you felt was the burning rage towards the man that left you in this position. It was automatic at this point; all you saw was a threat, so you acted, unloading rounds until all that remained was a busted door frame and tear stains against your grimy cheeks.

“Shit,” he whispered, not even acknowledging the body that he stepped over. “No no no, what happened?” He strung a hand behind your neck, forcing you to watch the way his eyes scanned your face. He meant well, you think, but you couldn’t look at him, especially as he thumbed through the tears that escaped your waterline. “Where’s the kid?”

God damn him. “Closet,” you choked out.

He was gone as quickly as he came, and your knees took the brute of the fall with a thud, masking the sound of the closet doors falling as Frank ripped them from the hinges. The stars in your eyes glistened, your peripheral shrinking, and you weren’t even sure if he was real. If he had actually come back, if he had actually left you on the floor, face to face with your bloody work.

“You okay, kid?” He crouched to her level, but she quickly uncurled herself, practically jumping from the small space to push past Frank and joined you on the damp carpet. “Are you okay?” she asked, her brows furrowing as she studied your face. “I’m fine," you whispered, bracing yourself against the mattress to hoist yourself to your feet. Frank hovered, like he usually did, unsure of his place between the two of you. His anger was palpable, and you made yourself as small as possible, limping towards the disheveled duffle bags. He watched you, noting the way you winced with each step. It killed him, knowing that his shit would eventually catch up to you, too, but he gulped it down, turning his attention towards Amy.

“I’m sorry,” Frank started, grabbing Amy’s shoulders before bending to her level. “I’m sorry this happened. I shouldn’t have left.” “I’m fine,” she mumbled. “Seriously. It could’ve been worse.” “Yeah, you coulda been killed. I shouldn’t have left you alone.” He regrets it as soon as it leaves his mouth.

Alone. The bile rose from your stomach and burned the lining of your throat at the indirect insult.

“I wasn’t alone,” Amy snapped at Frank before sinking into the mattress. “Look, this is all my fault. I was the one that ordered food, she didn’t know.” It was humiliating having Amy come to your defense like that, even though she was right. Frank’s stare burned, and your feet involuntarily took you to the destroyed bathroom to escape his attention. “What?” He spat. “I mean, really. I probably would have died but she handled them.” She crossed her arms against her chest. “It was actually kinda cool.” “There’s nothin’ cool about this,” Frank hissed. “C’est la vie, I guess.” “C’mon,” he ordered. “Pack up.” “Everything’s already ready.” She motioned towards the perfectly lined duffle bags that you had assembled.

He didn’t have much to say. He was almost relieved at the fact that you were ready to leave him. You could make it on your own, he knew that much. You were strong enough, but a part of him wished you didn’t have to be—that you didn’t have to deal with his shit.

Amy watched as he shifted his weight outside the bathroom door, his fingers flexing and clenching in anticipation.

His heart broke as he caught a glimpse of your reflection in the busted mirror, your head hanging low as you sat on the edge of the bathtub.

He was afraid of you. Afraid that you had made up your mind and had enough of him, that this was the final straw. But the worst thing, he decided, was the possibility that this, that he, was enough for you—that you would pledge your loyalty to a man like him. To a life like this.

“Time to go,” he finally knocked against the remaining wall. You were quick to listen, pretending that you hadn’t been crying, and you pushed past him. The carpet squelched beneath your stride, and you ignored it long enough to pull Amy into your chest, focusing on the sweet smell of her shampoo. She stayed there for what seemed like forever until she became cognizant of her flickering facade. “You okay?” you whispered, nodding your head as if you could somehow convince her she was. She followed suit, swallowing down any trace of emotion that threatened to spill over, but her eyes betrayed her. Frank had seen enough.

It was too much—too much of a reminder that he had failed again, that his perpetual failings would always result in the loss of a life. Your commitment to Amy’s safety was evident; it was a continuation of what you couldn’t give your sister, and he was ashamed that he brought you back to the place where he met you. “Let’s go,” he cleared his throat. You listened, as you always do, breaking your moment of respite with Amy to shove two heavy duffle bugs over your shoulder, not caring to look behind you as you head towards a bulky van. Amy watched you disappear, shuffling her feet in frustration. “You really should take it easy on her.” Frank said nothing, instead sifting through the empty pockets of corpses. “Hey,” she kicked the limp hand, forcing Frank to stop his search. “I mean it. Lighten up.” “You done?” He stood, completely towering over Amy. His jaw clenched against his will, yet she held his gaze. “Be nice.”

“Time to go.” He didn’t wait for her, so she watched her footing as she tiptoed over the broken bodies.

She lingered in the doorframe, committing the bloodbath to memory. It was fucked that she had to—that the motel room reeked of blood and guts instead nail polish remover and pizza. But that’s how these things went, and you watched from the safety of the van as she slammed the door shut on that dirty fucking room.

You pretended that her clumpy mascara was still intact as she climbed in the van's backseat. She pretended you didn’t jump at the sound of Frank slamming his door closed as he slid into his seat. He pretended that this wasn’t his karmic debt catching up to him.

A caravan of fucking liars.

“Where are we going?” Amy broke the uncomfortable silence, and you held your breath. “New York,” he said with a sigh.

New York, a Madani, and a caravan of liars.

There was a poetic moment of silence and anticipation, and then the engine roared to life.

next chapter

[imtrashraccoon]

This one was slightly tricky to write and I spent several days just writing dialogue whenever I was able to lol. Oh well, it's still something I'm proud of.

By the way, I think I'm going to call this "Have Some Empathy, Dear" and I have already started posting it on AO3. Some of you have already found it lol! There's additional lore bits that I'll probably post over there if you're curious.

CW: Not sure if this is needed, but there is some mentions of toxic family dynamics in this chapter. Classic family favorites one child over the other and makes negative comments about them as well.

@owl-bones

First Day & Next Day.

Bad Sansuary: Horror - Romance

Word Count: 2,087

You'd seen Axe a few times ever since the day you met him in the forest. Somehow, he'd figured out where you lived but had completely dodged the question when you asked how. You kind of just let it go after that as it was nice hanging out with someone after a long day of work.

Yeah, a smart person would've avoided the obvious red flags... Not that you weren't smart, maybe just selectively blind.

He seemed to be a genuinely nice guy, despite the mildly unsettling habits he had, like the fact that he tended to stare at you for long periods of time. It was like he had scary dog energy but without all of the bite, at least towards you anyways.

Today was a you day. No errands that needed to be run, no one requiring you to be at work, and no chores to do around the house. It was just you and the latest episode of your favorite historical romance show. The last episode had ended on a cliffhanger and you were dying to see if Madam Fratchurine accepted Duke Von Gossimer's proposal or not.

You were only halfway through the episode, without a clear answer to the 'Will they, won't they?' question, when a sharp knocking sounded on your front door. Pausing the episode with a frown, you emerged from your blanket cocoon to see who was outside.

Taking a peek through the peephole, your mild annoyance quickly evaporated when you recognized the person on the other side. Barely sparing a thought on how presentable you were, you unlocked and swung open the door to greet them.

"Axe! Um, hi! I, uh, didn't expect to see you today..."

He quirked a bonebrow when you nearly stumbled over your words and his smile morphed into one of mild amusement. You could feel how warm your cheeks had grown all of the sudden and glanced down at your socks.

Clearing your throat, you tried to start over. "Sorry, why don't you come in? Although I should warn you that I've been relaxing all day so the apartment might be a bit messy." You moved to the side so he could step over the threshold rather than remain standing awkwardly outside your door.

Axe chuckled and his eyelight briefly flicked past you into the hallway. " 's no problem, i didn't let you know beforehand. sorry about that..." he responded. He nearly had to duck his skull in order to come inside but thankfully the doorframe was still a few inches taller than he was.

You gathered up the fuzzy blanket you'd been snuggling in and quickly folded it up to make the room slightly less messy. While you were at it, you straightened the sofa cushions and deposited your blanket on the coffee table for now.

"heh, i didn't think you'd be the type to watch sappy stuff like this," Axe commented.

"Huh?" You glanced over and realized he'd noticed the still paused episode. "Ah, well... It's a bit of a...guilty pleasure of mine."

He glanced at you out of the corner of his left eye socket with a look that seemed to suggest amusement. You flushed and quickly looked away from him.

"I suppose you could say I'm a bit of a hopeless romantic..." you muttered. "The idea of finding your one and only? It was just a thing I fixated on when I was younger I guess."

"nothin' wrong with that," Axe said quietly. "a lot of folks look forward to meetin' someone special like that. soulmates or somethin'... i don't really care, but i suppose it would be nice. i'm sure it would all work out though."

You nodded slowly, "I guess so... Honestly, I kind of envy how carefree you are about it."

"well, i'm not in a hurry to settle down right now," he responded with a shrug.

He was right in a way. There was no hurry to find someone and you could always focus on your career in the meantime. Although growing up, there was always the pressure to find someone quickly so you could be taken care of and give your parents a couple of grandchildren. It was "The least you could do," your mother had said.

Of course, you'd then struggled with a string of bad relationships ever since getting out of high school. Not only had you gotten attached really fast whenever a guy ever showed you any modicum of attention, but you also weren't great at standing up for yourself. Your relationships never lasted longer than a few months and while you'd since learned what mistakes not to make, you were starting to wonder if you should swear off dating altogether.

"so, uh, other than shows like this," Axe motioned to the tv, bringing you out of your thoughts again. "what else do ya like to do?"

"Well, I read occasionally and have a small collection of fantasy type books. I used to be part of my school's chess club but I haven't actually had anyone to play against in a while."

You glanced around the living room before your gaze focused on two of your plants on the window sill. "Oh, I try to keep a few plants alive but I don't think I have much of a green thumb. I also like to press flowers or colourful leaves in the fall. They make some pretty collages but I have to make time to actually put them all together."

He nodded approvingly and studied the plants for a moment. "What kind are they?" he asked.

You pursed your lips in thought while you tried to remember. "The one on the left is a yellow Cala Lilly and I think the other is called a Christmas Cactus although it hasn't bloomed since last year. I'm not sure why as it has sun and I haven't forgotten to water it." You shrugged and added, "It's otherwise thriving so I guess I'm doing something right."

"can't say i'm familiar with either of those types so i can't give ya any advice," Axe hummed softly. "i'm more familiar with the kinds of plants ya can cook with, like vegetables or herbs."

"Do you like to cook then?" you asked.

"i do," he answered with a slight nod. "it's somethin' i just really enjoy doin' i guess..." His singular eyelight was still focused on the plants by your window as he trailed off.

When he didn't elaborate further, you couldn't help but feel a bit awkward. His tone of voice seemed to hint at a deeper meaning to what he'd said and you didn't know if you should ask or not.

So, rather than potentially making things more awkward, you decided not to ask and instead to talk about something else. "You know, I like cooking as well. Although, I really only cook for myself so I have limited experience."

Well that certainly seemed to make him perk up. Axe turned to actually look at you and his eyelight flicked over you in a way that you thought was him sizing you up.

"limited experience or not, it's still an important skill to know. did ya teach yourself or...?"

You shook your head, "No, at least not completely... I learned the basics from my mother but everything else I had to learn through good ol' trial and error." You rubbed the back of your neck and quietly added, "Granted, it was mostly by error..."

Axe let out a short chuckle at that. There was clear amusement written across his skull once again, yet it didn't feel like he was making fun of you.

"that's good, sometimes the best way to learn is to actually try your hand at somethin'. or at least it's the best way i know to figure things out." He lightly scratched the right side of his skull, although you noticed how his phalanges nearly hooked into the empty socket as he did so.

"Maybe we could cook something together sometime then...?" you asked.

To your surprise, he nodded vigorously and his permanent grin quirked wider at the idea. "sure, that could be fun. 's not every day i have the chance to cook with others."

"Awesome!" you exclaimed and gave a bit of a victory fist pump. Axe chuckled again although it was more natural sounding this time, like he hadn't expected you to react with this much enthusiasm.

This conversation made you remember something all of the sudden that you had to share. "You know what's funny? One of the things my mother used to always tell me was, and I quote, 'You gotta find a man who can at least cook because you certainly can't!'" With an awkward chuckle, you added, "In hindsight though, I realize she wasn't actually joking..."

That had been a bad thing to say apparently. His expression flickered between discomfort and concern before settling on a slight frown. You could feel a familiar pit form in your stomach as you realized that you'd basically stuck your foot in your mouth.

Axe let out a heavy sigh through his nasal bone and couldn't seem to meet your gaze all of the sudden. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other before finally muttering a response.

"your mother probably didn't have a guy who could pass for a slasher villian in mind..."

You felt bad for saying something so forward in the first place as it had clearly made him uncomfortable. So you resorted to damage control in an effort to ease tensions once again.

"Well, uh... I guess you're right... She also told me that drinking coffee stunts your growth, which I know isn't true now, but it still frustrated me when I was younger."

Well that got him to chuckle at least. He patted your shoulder in a way that was probably supposed to be reassuring, although it did feel slightly patronising seeing as how tall he was.

"are ya sure that isn't true?" he asked in a tone that sounded like it was supposed to be sassy, although his deep voice did just the opposite.

You crossed your arms and huffed in annoyance. "It isn't! I don't even drink that much coffee compared to other people..."

"what other things did she tell you? any other gems?"

You frowned and shook your head. "Nothing very helpful... She used to be obsessed with my weight growing up and never kept any snacks in the house. If I ever mentioned I was hungry, she'd just tell me to go eat a handful of almonds or something."

You sighed and dropped onto the couch. Steepling your chin with your hands, you tried to take deep breaths to avoid getting all worked up over what had happened in the past. You felt bad that you'd nearly just dumped a bunch of your own trauma on Axe when he was basically a complete stranger.

The cushions shifted as he sat down next to you. You glanced over at him and rather than annoyance like you'd expected, he looked slightly concerned. You very rarely talked to anyone about your childhood as they never understood and brushed off your mother's rules as well-meaning. He didn't seem to be like any of the others though and you started to wonder if he actually understood you.

"I'm...not on good terms with my family...in general," you muttered.

He seemed surprised if the way his left eye socket widened was any indication. "how come?" he asked quietly. "family's pretty important, at least to me anyways..."

You shook your head slowly. "I really don't want to get into all of it right now... But, the short of it is my mother was basically what some people call an almond mom and my older sister was seen as the golden child. I was basically dirt in comparison to her and my entire family favorited her."

"i don't really understand..." Your heart sank but Axe continued speaking before you could try to explain. "but i can tell this is a sore spot for ya, so i won't push ya to explain anythin' else, okay?"

You gave him a stiff smile out of sheer relief. "I appreciate it..." you responded with a sigh.

In an attempt to talk about something lighter, you tried to change to subject. "Do you have any family?" you asked.

His skull visibly brightened, somehow, at your question and he grinned warmly. "yep, i got a younger brother and he's the coolest dude i know..."

[try-set-me-on-fire]

I just discovered your blog, and I’m so glad I did! I love your soft prompts! And you’re a wonderful writer 🥰 Can I request a soft prompt that’s not in the list? “Eddie laying with Buck in his hospital bed.”

Thanks either way!!

Thank you!!

Send me soft prompts! Finished ones on AO3!

Buck is breathing like it hurts. Eddie is intimately familiar with the mechanics of it: steady but shallow inhale, hold, shaky exhale blown through pursed lips. He should probably be laying flat but he’d reached for Eddie, pulled him onto the bed, curled his body towards him with a hand tangled in his shirt, and Eddie thinks he is incapable, currently, of not giving Buck anything he wants.

His skin is warm. Eddie is resting his hand on Buck’s face as softly as he possibly can, careful around the cuts and the dark bruise on his jaw. He moves his thumb slowly across Buck’s cheek, watching the flutter of his eyelids intently.

“You want me to call a nurse?” The quiet of the room makes it feel impossible to speak loudly, Eddie practically whispers the words.

“No,” Buck sighs. “They’ll kick you out.” His hand tightens against Eddie’s chest.

“Ok,” Eddie says, and he knows his voice isn’t steady. He hasn’t kissed Buck since they reunited here- the man’s whole damn body is a bruise, he barely wanted to touch him to avoid making anything hurt more. He kisses him now, because he is a weak man. Gentle, gentle, the barest press of lips. “Ok. Soon, though. Please.”

Buck sighs again, and they’re close enough that the air hits warm against Eddie’s chin. “Feel like we should get special privileges. Frequent flier miles. Land in the hospital three times a year and they put you in a queen bed, husbands allowed.” Buck coughs, and winces. Eddie winces along with him, hand fluttering over the shoulder that had so recently been ripped out of its socket, the chest that had hit the ground after a sickening fall. “I didn’t even break anything, why didn’t they let me go home-“

“You weren’t conscious,” Eddie says, and even this he can’t manage above a whisper. “You weren’t conscious when we got to you, Buck. You have to stay the night.”

“Sucks.” Buck moves his jaw like he’s holding his tongue between his teeth, there’s a frustrated dent in his forehead. His eyes are bright. Eddie wants to make the world softer around him wherever he goes. "Sorry."

"What are you apologizing for?" He holds Buck's face again, and Buck kisses his palm as he shrugs.

"For putting that look on your face again."

"Buck-"

"I'm sorry that I’m here, I don't- I'm tired of- I'm tired." Buck shrugs again, and then has to breath out very slowly against the pain the motion causes. Eddie swallows, clenches his teeth. He kisses Buck again, his cheek, stays there for a moment. Buck chases him when he pulls away and they end up with points of contact at their foreheads, noses. "I'm sorry I lost my fucking ring."

Eddie carefully pulls Buck's left hand up from where it's rested between them and kisses his fingers, mindful of the long scratch where his silicon wedding band had been pulled or torn off. "We bought a five pack of those for a reason, Buck." Their metal bands are nestled in their sock drawer at home, safe together in a little wooden box.

"I know," Buck says, but he sounds miserable about it. They're so close together Eddie barely has to tilt his head to be kissing him again. Buck's right hand slides slowly up until his fingertips are pressed into Eddie's jaw. They just stare at each other for a moment when they break away, and Buck continues to watch him as Eddie moves, trying not to jostle Buck as he pulls off his own band and presents it to him. Buck huffs out a little laugh and lets Eddie slide it onto his finger. "I love you so much."

Eddie rests their foreheads together again. "So much, too."

The nurse will come back soon and Eddie will have to move to the chair, but for now they lay together, holding on tight.