#He's very expressive and I like that very much

[logaenhowlett]

TEACH YOU HOW TO GET TO PUREST HELL - L.H.

Summary: On the way to one of his cage fights, Logan's truck begins to break down and that's how he meets you, the owner of a repair shop in Northern Alberta. He promises to pay you with his winnings - but what he ultimately offers is far more interesting.

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Female Reader

Warnings: Smut 18+ only, Fluff, Flirting, Dirty talk, Praise kink, Fingering, Unprotected sex (against the cage), Aftercare, Logan's a snarky motherfucker (but secretly a softie)

A/N: The filthiest 4k I've ever written. I just know he was a menace during his cage fighter era. It's okay though, I'll still be clawing at the enclosure. Title creds to Radiohead. Hope you enjoy!

MASTERLIST

Smoke curls around him, bearing a semblance of warmth against the biting wind. Logan's grip on the steering wheel is loose, the other arm draped lazily across the window. He flicks his fingertips ever so often, the ashes of his cigar disappearing into the falling snow. Mile after mile, the same barren landscape stretches before him.

He's lost amidst the silence, having turned the radio all the way down in frustration at the nonsense plaguing the stations earlier. As sunshine glares through the windshield, he scrunches his eyebrows, vaguely entertaining some ideas swirling in his mind.

Hours pass by painfully slow. He tries to ignore the low rumbling that interrupts his flow of thoughts, body firmly protesting against this all-alcohol diet he'd unintentionally adopted. Logan skims a hand into the glove compartment, clicking his tongue when he discovers only a few wrappers lying inside. Slumping back into the seat, he takes another drag, disappointment etching onto his features.

An orange, flashing icon on the dashboard snaps his attention. His eyes dart to the blinking light, a sense of irritation washing over him when he recognises the ‘check engine’ symbol. In a haste, he pulls the truck over, slamming the door shut behind him as he ventures into the cold to inspect the issue. Though he has an extensive knowledge of motorcycles, by no means does that expertise carry over to whatever mess he finds beneath the hood. Logan returns with a sigh, recalling a faded road sign he'd passed ages ago - at least he isn't awfully far from his destination.

In the distance, the town welcome monument brings him some sort of peace. After driving by plenty of dimly lit diners and pubs, he reluctantly asks a stranger for directions to the nearest repair shop. Logan arrives shortly thereafter, parking at the entrance of this seemingly empty building. Curious, he scans the place, sliding out of his seat in search of anyone.

The distinct ring of metal hitting the floor has him spinning around. He fights back the amused huff at the sight of you, bottom lip slightly caught between his teeth in an attempt to stop the smirk threatening to break free. His eyes rake over your figure as you come closer - appreciating the way your overalls perfectly capture the slopes and curves of your body - before finally, rising to meet your unimpressed expression.

"What're you here for?"

There's a smidge of annoyance in your words, a reaction he very much enjoys being the reason for. He nods towards the truck parked out front, "Problem with the engine."

When you brush past him, Logan spots a name neatly embroidered onto your otherwise soiled clothes. Smiling, he follows after you, shamelessly dropping his gaze to your ass for a moment.

Waiting patiently while you poke around the hood, he steals glances at your profile, filled with the sudden urge to wipe away the grease stain remnants off your cheeks, "Yeah... looks like the head gasket needs replacing."

Logan groans to himself before agreeing with your judgment. He runs a hand across his face, stilling in brief confusion when you chuckle quietly.

"Somethin' funny?" He asks, noting how you browse the insides of his camper with a flair of barely-masked mockery.

"Just admiring the interior design."

That one almost draws a scoff out of him. Logan knows his living quarters are rather bare-bones in nature, at best, providing decent shelter for when he's on the go. Inside, a makeshift bed large enough for a man of his size and basic kitchen appliances - though he rarely uses those. It's all he cares for anyway, yet there's a tinge of self-consciousness he shakes before gruffly responding, "You can do it by tonight?"

"Tonight?" Your eyebrows raise in surprise, "Fine... but it's gonna set you back about three grand."

"I got half for now."

A sharp laugh pierces his ears. And even though it's undoubtedly fake, he thinks you look pretty like this - shooting what can't be anything less than a deadly glare just for him. The corners of his lips tilt up when your tone suddenly becomes stern, "That's not how it works, buddy."

"Listen, I got a fight later, I'll be good for it."

"What? You that sure you're gonna win?"

You're teasing him. You know it, and so does he. Logan studies the way your hand rests against your hip, a challenging glint behind your eyes while you consider this ridiculous suggestion. He moves one step closer and proudly welcomes the surge of satisfaction at the slight crack of your demeanour.

"Darlin', I always win." It's a whisper that leaves him, hushed and dangerously low. Giving your shoulder a playful nudge as he walks by, he circles to the trailer behind the truck, retrieving his motorcycle. He smirks, pleased to witness such a glimpse of weakness, "Eleven-thirty. O'Malley's. I'll see you there."

The engine revs with each twist of his wrist, the movement so precise and natural. As he sinks onto the bike, the suspension adjusting to his weight, he sends you a wink.

"And if you lose?" You shout over the blaring sounds.

With one final grin, "Just fix my truck, alright."

Even from outside, O'Malley's is deafeningly loud. The wooden door creaks lightly with the gentlest push, and a mixture of overly enthusiastic yells paired with the clashing of glass greet your presence. You're no regular here whatsoever, but the fights that occur in this bar are usually the talk of the town. And despite its reputation, you've never had much interest in being surrounded by a crowd of angry, intoxicated men - all drowning beneath the crude insults and empty threats tossed into the air.

Some of the patrons, customers you recognise from work, acknowledge you with a polite smile while you settle into a booth near the cage. As you observe the utter chaos around the room, it only cements your distaste for this so-called form of entertainment. The current match's loser staggers past your table, barely walking on two feet even with the support of his friends.

All you can think about is returning home with your hard-earned cash. It was a rather tiring day, running around salvage yards scouring for spare parts to tend to the old piece of junk he'd called a truck. Not to mention the unforgiving weather, which seemed determined to make your day more miserable. And to top it all off, the jerk wanted it done by nightfall - the audacity! Just the simple reminder of today's events has your body tensing from restlessness.

Behind you, a group of men sneer amongst themselves and between their slurring, the words "pretty boy" and "his ass kicked" grasp your attention. Turning around, you watch as they hand over money to some younger fella, taunting others to join the bet. Oh, that makes your blood boil. This Logan had strolled into your shop with nothing but a superficial promise for your services, and now, he's presumed to lose?

You stand up abruptly, peering across the space in search of him. A rush of fury courses through you at the same time you spot him casually lounging in the corner. As you approach, the faint glow of the bulb illuminates his face, a cloud of smoke momentarily hiding the smirk playing on his lips. His chuckle cuts through the hum of the jukebox he's leaning on, eyes crinkling with a kind of smugness at your arrival.

"You're joking." The bottle of whiskey between his fingers shocks you the most, "Are you seriously getting drunk before your fight?"

Logan grins at your concerned expression, eyes tracing you up and down, "You fix it?"

"Yes, I fucking fixed it. Took me all day!" Fists clenching, you stare at him intently, "Look, I did my job - you better do yours."

"Don't worry 'bout it, darlin'. I'm a man of my word." He dismisses you completely, taking a prolonged swig of his drink. A beat passes before he lazily holds up two fingers right to your face, "Scout's honour."

He laughs again when you roughly shove his hand aside, not sparing another second for this cocksure attitude. You grumble under your breath, making your way back to the booth, "It's three fingers, asshole."

A few matches take place over the next hour, and you're only getting more antsy as each of the competitors exits the cage with nothing short of bloody faces and broken bones. The audience roars all of a sudden, some even rattling the fence as this new person strides into the threshold.

Of course, he'd stripped his shirt off and the sight of his muscle-toned chest only serves to further fuel your irritation. Logan's eyes find yours immediately, looking past the crowd of hecklers now whistling at him. With a nod, he throws you a confident smirk and turns to his rival.

The man he's up against is much more burly and has a couple of inches on him. Though that doesn't seem to faze Logan in the slightest, instead he's flexing his arms almost playfully before adopting a fighting stance. Every punch and kick has you twitching in your seat, your feet firmly stuck to the ground in anticipation.

Remembering how he'd chugged an entire bottle of liquor earlier, you're astonished by the ferocity with which he attacks his opponent, dodging most moves with deadly precision. As he lands more jabs, the spectators begin to jeer and boo, swarming the enclosure of the cage in a tantrum. You peek over their shoulders, ducking away from the things they're flinging around. There's a collective gasp when he knocks out the other man, and you sigh in relief.

Leaning towards the cage, a cigar lightly pressed against his mouth, Logan's focus shifts to you. His chest is heaving from all the physical exertion, skin damp from the sweat. As he exhales the smoke, blowing a kiss in your direction, a satisfied expression returns to his face. He runs a hand through his wet hair, leaving the arena with no regard for the protesting crowd.

You follow after him, squeezing through the tightly packed space. He's settling a score with the owner, a wad of rolled cash passing between them as a reward. After a nod of mutual agreement, Logan faces you, tossing his leather jacket on. And while you're ultimately happy he won, there's also this urge to smack the cheeky look that seems to be glowing as you come closer.

What's more upsetting is the fact that he is undeniably gorgeous - especially like this, all sweaty and wound up from the adrenaline rushing inside. And of course, he doesn't miss how your gaze wanders to the sliver of skin peeking through his jacket, every slight movement only revealing more.

Logan grabs a few bills from the roll of money and stuffs them into his back pocket, holding the rest out towards you. As you reach for the cash, he swiftly draws his hand back with a teasing smile, "Have a drink with me."

"No."

"C'mon." He drags out, repeating the same thing when you try again, "No one needs their cute, little mechanic right now."

Watching you sigh triggers a thrill of excitement, an unspoken victory he claims with no shame. With a simple gesture, he leads you towards a secluded booth, determined to make this a worthwhile exchange. Despite your hesitation, he maintains a sort of relaxed energy, draping his arm along the seat - his eyes not straying from yours.

Two shots of vodka are placed on the table and Logan mirrors your action, slowly raising the glass to his lips. In no time, the air of unease dissipates, replaced by a comfortable silence while the drinks keep coming. As the night wears on, casual conversation flows between you and he asks a few things like how long you've lived here, why you became a mechanic and eventually, when he slides you the money, "What now, darlin'? You gonna leave?"

His voice, dripping with honeyed sweetness, sends a shiver down your spine. You can't exactly place the feeling, but it's a tangle of exasperation and something else - something you're not quite ready to define. Instead, you blame it on the drinks, the late hour, and the fact that there's an incredibly attractive man just inches away.

As frustration envelops your thoughts, you suddenly excuse yourself and head towards the bathroom. The alcohol, previously a gentle companion, now seems to be taking its toll. Looking at your reflection in the mirror, you try to fight against the sensations running through your body. The splash of cold water does little to your state of mind, yet you're back outside in what feels like a tilted world, using all your strength to walk straight.

As you brush past the cage, someone collides into you. Desperate for balance, you reach out to grip the fence, but a strong hand lays steady on your lower back. With a gasp and a tilt of your head, you're caught off-guard when Logan comes into your view. His arm snakes around to gently hold your waist, his body now pressing into yours.

Overwhelmed by the sudden proximity, you tear your attention away from him and glance at the wire pricking your fingers, "This is fucking sharp."

He doesn't break the eye contact. A low hum vibrates through his chest as he leans in, the warmth of his breath dancing with yours. The space between you slowly shrinks, whatever lighthearted facade he'd worn earlier vanishes only to be replaced by something raw and inexplicable.

"How're you not bruised?" You whisper, remembering the way he'd been thrown against the cage earlier.

"Call it a special talent."

Despite your better judgment, you find yourself captivated by him, the intensity of his gaze reeling you in. And so, you decide to play his game, "Can you teach me?"

Logan pauses, "You wanna learn... how to fight?"

"Just a little punch or something."

A faint smile spreads across his face, you're absolutely sure he can feel the way your heart is pounding. When his lips lightly brush against your ear, a quiet rumble escapes and something flickers in your gut - a twist of exhilaration laced with a hint of caution.

There's barely anyone left in the bar at this point besides the one or two stragglers hanging around. Logan and you stand alone in the cage, seemingly tucked away in a little pocket of your own. He doesn't wander too far, remaining within an arm's distance while demonstrating the proper technique for a jab - the motion so fluid and effortless.

Your initial attempts to mimic his movements are clumsy and awkward, his amusement only growing more evident with each try. Slipping behind you, he sheds the jacket, once again exposing his glorious muscles and the thought of tracing his vein-riddled biceps with your tongue leaves you dazed for a moment. This time, he circles his arms around you and guides your hands into the correct position.

As you practice, your bodies nudge against each other, his breath fans across your neck and ignites a fire within you. The tension is palpable, the air thick with implicit desire. You can almost feel his gaze burning into you, every second posing a challenge to cross this imaginary line.

The rest of the patrons are ushered out the door, the owner nodding at Logan before disappearing into the back room. And the silence settles in, a stark contrast to all the commotion that lingered for hours prior. You notice the difference, inching towards the exit, "Looks like they're closing up."

Before you can move away, Logan's hand shoots out to catch your wrist, "And we got it all to ourselves."

"What?"

"Might've slipped the owner a little somethin’."

His fingers trail up your arm, thumb gently pushing your soft skin. Slowly, he brings you closer, his words just a whisper of heat on your cheek. You can feel the rise and fall of his chest, a rhythm echoing your own racing heart. Your voice, hoarse and strained, barely manages a response, "Is this how you budget? No wonder you're broke."

It's his laughter that breaks you at first, followed by, "You got a smart mouth, darlin'. Tell me, what else can it do?"

His lips hover mere inches above yours, there's a moment of hesitation hanging in the air - an out, if you don't want this. But, temptation is a dangerous siren and you're already ensnared by her song.

Fuck it.

Logan's dog tags hang pretty between the slopes of your breasts, his mouth moving against yours in a rough, demanding fashion. It's sloppy. It's wet. And it's goddamn heavenly when his fingers thread through your hair, the gap between you now completely erased. You cling to him as if he's an anchor, nails digging into his shoulders while he pins you to the cool metal of the cage.

He wants to touch you. To feel the warmth radiating straight off your body. The straps of your overalls fall from his force, he takes the opportunity to slide one hand through the side, kneading your waist with a kind of tenderness that surprises him too. When you take a second to breathe, Logan peppers kisses along your jawline, then some beneath your ear before grazing his lips on your neck.

The pulsing vein he finds nearly has him growling in pleasure, "Fuck, darlin'... feel so good already... can't wait to taste you when I'm done..."

He stills when you gasp, glancing up through his lashes and then quietly chuckling at your flustered expression. Yet, he can't revel in his victory for any longer than a blink, your palm tilts his head back before you fiercely capture his mouth once more.

His name rolls out your lips, drawn out and glazed with an obvious need. Taking a deep inhale, Logan feels the bulge in his jeans growing with each passing moment. You're only getting restless as his hands roam over your body, becoming nothing more than a whimpering mess all from his doing.

"Lemme hear you for real, baby... don't be shy." His fingers latch onto the cage, using it to thrust forward and deepen the kiss. Your clothes end up pooling at your feet, the barriers between you peeling away with every layer gone. Now, skin to skin, sweat glistening on your brow, you're left bare and vulnerable to his touch.

Logan reaches down, spreading your thighs wide enough till he can push your panties aside, stroking the outside of your entrance. Clenching his jaw when he's met with a distinct wetness, "Hidin' all this for me?" He almost laughs at how you curl forward and then whine his name, craving for any part of him to be inside you, "Hm... what'd you say to me before? Three fingers?

With no warning, he slides exactly three inside your cunt, pumping in and out as best as he can, "So fuckin' tight, darlin'... c'mon... show me you're ready for the real thing." He knows he's doing something right when you squirm at his actions, jumping at the invitation to delicately flick your clit before sinking his fingers back into you.

"Logan-"

Pain consumes you as he continues, tears springing to your eyes. You've never felt pleasure like this, so intense and so profound, words lost amongst the moans trembling out your lips. Your knees begin to shake under the pressure, and his free hand immediately cups your thigh, securing your body to his. As you call out for him, urging him to fuck you senseless, he tugs his fingers away.

The belt flies, jeans tossed behind in an instant and he grunts, freeing his hard length from his boxers. The tip of his cock teases your folds, the precum slicking down from the head. His nose presses against your cheek when your hand runs up and down - getting him all nice and ready. Breath hitching at the sensation, Logan involuntarily bucks his hips, your eagerness carrying him over the edge.

He's careless about lining himself up, giving it no more than a fleeting thought before thrusting into you. Whatever floods your brain at that moment is much more potent than anything you've ever experienced. It's vigorous, almost animalistic in nature, how hard he fucks you. The veins on his arms become more apparent as he hoists you up, pushing you against the cage. He can hear the little fibers of your skin tearing because of the friction, yet he does little to ease that pain, knowing you're enjoying the hurricane of emotions whisking you away.

Logan pants into your tits, nipping at the soft flesh, "Wanted to ruin that pussy since I saw you this mornin'... all dirty and pissed off at me - god. Thought 'bout somethin' else on your face too."

"Logan - don't... fucking stop. Feels amazing... wanna feel all of you." The words escape you - laboured and breathless - your eyes soften in delight, watching this sort of enraptured expression wash across his face, "So good for me, Logan."

So good.

For me.

And boy, if that doesn't spur him on.

Picking up speed, his movements turn greedy, grinding into you with a degree of passion he's never felt before. As you tug his hair, fingers raking through the dark tresses in a frenzy, Logan taps into the primal energy swelling within. His hands squeeze you further, your thighs constricting his waist as he drives up into you, "That's it baby... fuckin' perfect. Takin' all of me like a good girl... mhmm."

The way your body helplessly arches has him grinning, but that quickly gets swept away when his cock twitches inside you, aching to burst at any given moment. He tries his hardest to control himself, longing for your cries of pleasure as you finish. Thrusts weakening to a leisurely pace, Logan grunts into your neck, mumbling a string of curses while he rides out this wave. Thankfully, you're on the precipice as well, your body reaching its peak with a shiver.

His cum trickles out of you, thighs getting sticky as it seeps lower and lower. Lost in a daze, Logan thinks he can see the damn sun in your eyes. With a gentle swipe of your cunt, he sheepishly licks his own fingertips, a smile brightening his face.

The mattress, once a source of great discomfort, now feels like paradise as you cuddle into the crook of his neck, the soft rhythm of your breath soothing him to a state of peace. He'd carried you to his truck earlier, threatening you with a barrage of kisses when you dangled his keys in front of him. There was a rather short game of tag before you relented and collapsed into his embrace, tiredly blinking up at him. He'd tucked the loose strands of your hair back then tenderly caressed your cheek. It took all but one affectionate grin to convince you to spend the night in his camper.

Not a single inch of your body is free from his touch. He pulls you even closer, tracing patterns around the tiny scratches spreading across your shoulders. If you'd asked him yesterday, he would tell you he has no plans of sticking around this town, grown used to a life of impermanence. Yet, as he rests, tangled in your arms, Logan finds a reason to stay.

[lumiambrose]

Sae Itoshi doesn’t dance.

You figured so anyways; it’s not like your boyfriend is the most… expressive.

So when the two of you run into a lively plaza full of locals and tourists alike dancing to romantic music on your vacation, you take the incentive to explore on your own. Twisting and turning through the sea of people as you enjoy the live band, a massive grin on your face.

To no surprise, even if you begged him, Sae wouldn’t join your antics in public. Instead, opting to watch you from a distance. Taking in the way you move to the rhythm as you casually dance with some of the locals. Sae finds it adorable, watching you enjoy yourself so much. If anyone looked at him hard enough, they might even see a small smile play on his lips.

That is until he sees a stranger—a man, grabbing you by the hand, leading you to the center of the plaza, away from him. You seem reluctant, of course you are. Why the hell would you be dancing with a random when you have the Sae Itoshi? The smile once adorning his face quickly fades as he storms through the crowd, pushing the man away from you, growling a few, what you presume to be spanish swear words at him before picking you up and carrying you back to your hotel room.

You arrive home and god, Sae is pissed. That man has no right to you like that. Nervous, you internally prepare to explain the situation to him. That the man caught you by surprise, and it wasn’t that deep. That the stranger didn’t do anything to you.

You open your mouth, but are quickly shushed by him as he seems to be searching for something in the hotel room. Unexpectedly, he pulls out a speaker. Connecting it to his phone and playing a melody, a very similar melody to what you heard at the plaza.

“Give me your hands,” he says in such a casual manner, as if he didn’t adorn the expression of a future murderer less than a minute ago.

You comply, giving him your hands as he helps you up, to then pull you in close, embracing you. His breath hot on your ear as he whispers, “Follow my lead.”

Now… just because Sae Itoshi doesn’t dance, it doesn’t mean he can’t.

Being a professional football player requires good agility and even better footwork, so to him, dancing comes naturally.

You though, are completely taken aback. He doesn’t give you time to process what’s happening as he guides you to the center of your suite, body in sync with the music as he mimics the matching movements to the ones you were dancing earlier.

You compliment him as the two of you bask in the music and each others company. Away from any strangers or creeps. Just you and him, together, as you dance through the early night.

“I didn’t know you could dance,” you giggle, almost teasing him for surprising you with his unexpected skills.

“Bad judge of character, angel,” he replies, even matching your teasing tone before dropping into a more intimate whisper. “Por ti haré cualquier cosa.”

©lumiambrose ─ do not translate, repost, copy any of my works

[pandapetals]

Mrs. Howlett

You get jealous of a student's mom trying to hit on Logan.

professor logan howlett x professor fem!reader - established relationship (y'all married), cute, fluff, teasing, no y/n used, no reader description, your an english professor, logan is a history professor - imagine days of future past logan with the white streaks in his hair

read on ao3 or find more parts for the series: here

You hated to admit it, but you could get a little jealous. Not that you ever had a real reason to be—Logan didn’t give other women a second glance, and he made it clear you were the only one he wanted. Most of the time, when someone flirted with him, you’d brush it off, secure in the knowledge that he was yours. Logan was usually too gruff, too uninterested, for anyone to make much headway with him anyway.

But today was different.

You were heading to his classroom to drop off some papers when you spotted him leaning casually against the doorframe, arms crossed, a faint smirk on his face as he talked to a woman you didn’t recognize. She looked young—probably a little too young than some of the other student’s parents, with sleek hair and an outfit that was more stylish than practical. Beside her stood a teenage boy, shifting awkwardly from foot to foot, clearly embarrassed.

But she? She was smiling up at Logan like he’d just hung the moon. Her hand even touched his arm briefly, a little too familiar, and you felt a flash of something hot and prickly ignite in your chest.

You tried to brush it off. It wasn’t a big deal. Logan didn’t even seem particularly invested in the conversation—just nodding along, probably humoring her because he had to be polite. And yet, the way she looked at him, hanging on his every word, had your jaw clenching before you realized it.

You took a breath, schooling your expression, but when you caught Logan’s eye over her shoulder, his smirk deepened, his gaze flicking to you with that glint of amusement he always got when he knew he had your attention. Oh, he’d noticed. Of course, he had.

Clearing your throat, you approached with an air of casual calm, though the jealousy simmering beneath the surface was anything but subtle.

“Oh, there you are, Logan,” you said, slipping your hand onto his arm with a bit more possessiveness than you’d planned. Your fingers tightened slightly, grounding yourself in the solid warmth of his bicep. “I was looking for you.”

The woman’s bright smile faltered for just a second, her gaze flicking down to your hand on his arm. She took a tiny step back, trying to recover her polite expression but with a hint of something else lurking in her eyes. “Oh, I didn’t realize… are you Miss… I��m sorry, I don’t remember your name?”

You felt Logan tense slightly, but you just smiled, leaning a little closer to him. “I’m Mrs. Howlett, actually.” Your voice was warm, but you let the words sink in, feeling a small thrill of satisfaction as you watched her face register the correction. Your fingers brushed up and down Logan’s arm in a slow, familiar rhythm, letting her know exactly where you stood. “And you are?”

She cleared her throat, glancing down at the teenage boy beside her. “I’m Liam’s mom,” she said, resting a hand on the boy’s shoulder as if to keep herself anchored. “Logan—Mr. Howlett—was just telling me about the upcoming history project. I thought it would be good to get a sense of what Liam would be working on.”

Logan’s smirk widened as he looked down at you, clearly enjoying the subtle show of jealousy you rarely let slip. His arm slid around your waist, pulling you closer in a way that made his claim on you unmistakable.

“Yeah, sweetheart,” he drawled, voice a low, amused rumble that you felt through his chest. “She was just askin’ about the assignment.”

You looked up at him, arching an eyebrow as you played along. “Of course. Well, Liam’s a very brilliant student,” you said sweetly, turning to the woman with a smile that held just a hint of a challenge. “Logan says he’s a natural at history. Must be quite a proud mom moment for you.”

The woman’s smile became a bit too tight, her expression polite but strained. She straightened, giving a brisk nod. “Of course. Well, I think I have all the information I need for now. Come along, Liam.”

As she ushered her son down the hallway, Logan’s quiet chuckle rumbled in his chest, his arm still snugly wrapped around your waist. He waited until she was out of earshot before he leaned down, his lips brushing close to your ear.

“Didn’t know you could be the jealous type,” he murmured, his voice dripping with amusement. “Should I be flattered?”

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t quite keep the blush from creeping up your cheeks. “I’m not jealous,” you replied, feigning nonchalance. “I just didn’t appreciate her… forgetting my name. I mean, it’s Mrs. Howlett, after all.”

Logan chuckled, his warm breath grazing your skin as his fingers traced lazy circles along your hip. “I gotta say, darlin’… I kinda liked seein’ you all protective and possessive. Not somethin’ I get to see often.”

You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t quite keep the grin off your face. “Oh, don’t let it go to your head,” you shot back, trying to sound nonchalant. “But I guess I might get a little territorial when some random woman decides to ignore the fact that you’re taken.”

His smile softened, and he leaned down to press a kiss to your temple, lingering just long enough for his warmth to seep into you. “Relax, gorgeous,” he murmured, his voice low and fond. “You know you’re the only one I’d ever put up with.”

“Oh, really?” you challenged, raising an eyebrow with a playful spark in your eyes. “Maybe I’ll keep you on your toes more often, then. Just to see that little possessive streak of yours come out.”

Logan’s laugh rumbled through his chest, his hand drifting lower to give your hip a slow, teasing squeeze. “Be my guest,” he drawled, his lips curving into a smirk. “I don’t mind remindin’ everyone who I belong to.”

You tilted your head, your fingers tracing along his arm savoring the solid warmth beneath your touch. “Good,” you murmured, voice barely above a whisper, “because I don’t plan on sharing.”

Logan leaned down, capturing your lips in a kiss. His mouth was warm and unhurried, lingering as if he wanted to make sure you felt every word he hadn’t spoken. When he finally pulled back, you were left breathless, a soft heat blooming in your cheeks.

He looked down at you, the playful gleam in his eyes softening. His forehead rested against yours, and whispered, his voice rough but gentle, “You don’t have to, sweetheart. I’m all yours. Always have been, always will be.”

[perdvivly]

Not waiting for chance or fate to dictate the terms of how annoying I’m allowed to be on the internet. I am choosing to answer them all now, unasked as I am.

1) This is mildly variable depending on the amount of effort I’m willing to expend. Typically the common theme is no adulterants. No sugar, no milk, no queen of England. If I’m getting fancy with it I’ll make an effort to time the brewing duration, 3mins for a black tea, 5mins for a green tea, 7mins for a herbal tea. But honestly the sort of depression chic I’ve been serving lately has been leaving the bag in and drinking it straight, tannins be damned.

2) Mandarin. Just seems like it’d be the most useful innit. Also, relatively harder to pick up non-magically given my native Englishhood.

3) God. I try not to honestly. No, but seriously, my sleep schedule has been all sorts of out of shape recently. I should work on that. At the moment it varies wildly day to day and depends on my responsibilities the days before and after the sleep. I’ve pulled a couple of all nighters recently and it gets screwy.

4) Maybe atla? I remember really liking it when it came out but not fully understanding the whole plot because I didn’t see it serialised until later. Maybe the simpsons? There’s something to say here about the earnestness of the earlier seasons and seeing a deeply dysfunctional family care about each other in ways they struggle to express—that gets glossed out as the production value rises in the later seasons—that’s like heroin to someone trapped in an irony poisoned world. But maybe that’s cope? Maybe it’s just the show I had the easiest access to as a kid. I guess I didn’t watch a whole bunch of tv or at least not a whole bunch that stuck with me.

5) Summer ez. (Have you seen her baphomet pics? 🥵)

6) In general, I doubt very much that either the optimist or the pessimist considers themselves such. It’s not really the sort of thing that admits of self-diagnosis in that way… Philosophically, the broader question is what? Do I align with Schopenhauer, Voltaire’s Leibniz, or Russel’s Leibniz? I’m not sure the tumblrinas care about the history of philosophy. I guess I’ll say to the extent that Schopenhauer relies on Indian mysticism, which I think is typically underrated, he’s simply mistaken about the world as will and representation. I’ll say that, I’m *not* a Buddhist. I think the doctrine of dukkha misses fundamental aspects of human existence. I’ll say that people have richer inner lives, deeper felt internal experiences, than you might assume from reading their little words on the internet. And that, on the whole, these are good things.

7) I mean, both ideally. Variety is the spice of life. If I had to choose I suppose it would be sunshine. But I’m terribly glad I don’t live in a world where I have to choose.

8) I have the cutest little book marks. My primary two at the moment are the sun and the moon, which I use for main text and end notes respectively. Though, I have been known to dog-ear in my time. I once got yelled at by my aunt for turning the corner of the page on my copy of Harry Potter and the order of the phoenix because it was a first edition and she was under the impression that it may be valuable some day. I was like, come on man, I’m 7. Don’t even piss. <- I didn’t say these things, but I was *like* that.

9) For the longest time I *only* wore steel toe capped boots because I ran myself over with an electric pallet stacker and tore my toenail off and decided I didn’t want that to happen again. I don’t do that anymore because I interact with heavy machinery less than I used to. Now all that matters to me is that they’re waterproof.

10) *My* signature scent like, I produce it? Or like I like it? I guess one of my favourite scents is lavender. But I've been told... Okay, it's important you guys know I do *not* have a yeast infection... I've been told some parts of my body naturally smell like bread, like, that sort of doughy yeasty (I s2g I do *not* (I did not hit her. I did not! oh hi mark)) smell that you get with bread sometimes. Is that what the question was asking?

11) I mean... That's broadly not for me to decide right? Unless the sort of dragons you're imagining have some sort of glamoury illusion magic, which seems plausible. Anyway, do you guys remember in Moby Dick when he goes on this wild tangent about how St. George and The Dragon was acutally about whales? And St. George's horse was actually a walrus or something. What was that about??

Okay, author's note, there's a time skip here. I've been scrolling through lists of dragons in popular culture for a while now and there are a pretty neat and widely varied selection of designs. I'll get back to you on this one.

12) It depends on why I'm writing! If it's a quick note to myself for future reference it'll generally be cursive, if it's an important document that will be read by other people generally it'll be print. If it's time-sensitive it'll be cursive. I remember writing essays for undergrad that I'm sure were totally illegible by the end of them, I think literally just a line on a page with occasional lifts and dips.

13) There is more information on wookieepedia than existed in my philosophy but a few minutes ago. The typology I've discerned is thus: blue - jock, green - nerd, yellow - geek, red - edgelord. And I'm a little bit of all of these, so I think any would be fine. Realistically though, I'm not sure a lightsaber is the best weapon in fantasy space-past-future where spaceships and lasers are common. Like, I'll let it slide because the original trilogy was doing a kirkegaardian faith thing and the prequels were doing a logic doesn't matter it's cool thing, and those are both respectable motivations to leave logistics aside for a bit.

14) Sad

15) Ice skates! I love ice skating!

16) I'm a youngest. I have an older sister, I think I talk about her here from time to time.

17) Well, how I would use it would depend massively on what it was. If the question is which superpower I think is the best then why not ask that? Which superpower would I have has a faint ring of incomprehensibility about it. It's really not clear which counterfactual is under consideration. *If* what?

Anyway, I think time control powers are up there right? Top five at least, easy. Imagine what you could do if you could stop time and sleep whenever you felt like it. I feel King Leerish about the ability to just be well rested. I would do such things, what they are yet I know not.

18) The problem with romantic relationships is that eventually, all of your most interesting clothing will end up in someone else's closet. I think my day-to-day wear tends to be mostly blues, blacks and whites. Not hugely interesting colourwise.

19) Snake, I think, they have fewer demands and I can't really handle any more pressure in my life than I already have. I would hate to be a bad bird mom... I would hate to be a bad snake mom too, but I think it's easier. Typically regarded as easier. I don't know.

20) Okay, so, it's like this right: medieval battle = will probably die. And it's also like this: behind city walls = safe, my friend and lover and confidant. And so, for very obvious reasons, it's gotta be a bow right? Like, I'm standing way out of the action and I'll shoot some arrows long range. But if that's against the spirit of the ask then it's gotta be some kind of polearm, like a halberd or something. Not even close. The advantage you get from distance is hard to overstate. Yeah, polearm for sure.

21) Mint choc chip, it's just such a classic. But also, I had a "london fog" flavour recently that was really compelling. It's just earl grey and vanilla but it's so good.

22) I'm more of a herbs person than a spices person. Like, hmm, I do really enjoy paprika and ginger and stuff like that, don't get me wrong. But it doesn't really hold a candle to the sheer universality of parsley or basil or oregano or mint. Herbs stay winning.

23) These days it's aptos because I am the worlds most basic bitch. And yes, I do still have a fondness for arial.

ask game that tells a lot about you.

how do you take your tea / coffee?

if you could be fluent in any language at the snap of your fingers, which one and why?

when do you wake up?

what was your favourite tv show as a kid?

summer or winter?

realist, optimist, or pessimist?

rain or sunshine?

how do you mark your spot in a book?

what are your favourite shoes like?

what would your non-perfume/cologne signature scent be?

if you were a dragon, what would you look like?

is your handwriting more print, cursive, or a mix?

what colour would your lightsaber be?

what is your defining personality trait?

roller skates or rollerblades or ice skates?

are you an only child? oldest / middle / youngest?

what would your superpower be? how would you use it?

what’s your clothing colour palette?

pet snake or pet bird?

weapon of choice in a medieval battle

the best ice cream flavour

what spices do you always use when cooking?

default font when typing?

[nevernonline]

✧.* talk too much; kmg

synopsis:  a charismatic but slightly awkward mingyu, whose tendency to talk too much creates hilariously unpredictable situations.  one early morning he spots a stranger sitting in the corner of the café—someone who's quiet, mysterious, and a little intimidating. drawn to her aura, he strikes up a conversation. but every time he opens his mouth, his words seem to betray him.

paring: mingyu x fem! reader. 

genre:strangers2whatever (hehe)  

warning/s:mentions of substances (alcohol) some minor sexy stuff, but not much really.

word count: 11k

content: . non-idol idolings, awkward over sharer mingyu.

note: non rlly edited prob weird typos, xo. ( there's a part 2 in my drafts fully bc I couldn't stop writing about these two)

The bell above the café door jingled as the stranger stepped inside. Mingyu, standing in front of the register, halfway through recounting a story to his favorite barista about the time he accidentally adopted a stray cat. He paused mid-sentence, caught off guard by the stranger’s presence.  

She was unlike anyone who usually wandered into the cozy café—a stark contrast to the warm, inviting space. Dressed in muted tones, she carried an air of quiet confidence and mystery, expression unreadable. The girl didn’t look around or hesitate, walking directly to a table in the far corner as though she had been here a hundred times before.  

Mingyu watched her settle in, his curiosity piqued. The girl placed a cherry red leather-bound journal on the table, opened it to a blank page, and began scribbling furiously.  

“She doesn't look like she’s here for the coffee,” Mingyu muttered to himself.  

Before he could stop himself, he grabbed the notepad behind the counter from his stunned regular bar keep and approached the table.  

“Hi there,” he said brightly. “Welcome to uh, Black Rabbit. Can I get you something? Coffee? Tea? One of the world-famous muffins? Well, they’re not world-famous yet, but I think they are. Anyway—”  

The stranger looked up, her sharp eyes meeting his. Mingyu froze for a moment, forgetting whatever it was he was going to say next.  

“Black coffee,” the stranger said curtly. Her voice was low, measured, and entirely unimpressed.  

“Got it. One black coffee. Simple. Classic. You know, I respect that. Some people come in here and order drinks with so many extra syrups and toppings it’s like they’re trying to create a dessert in disguise. But you—you’re all about the essentials.”  

The girl raised an eyebrow. “Is there a point to this? Also do you even work here?”  

Mingyu blinked, realizing he was rambling. “Uh, nope! No point. Just making conversation. I’ll get that coffee for you. And, uh, no I don’t. Just helping out.”  

He turned and practically sprinted back to the counter, silently berating himself. “Cool, Mingyu. It's really cool.”  

When he returned with the coffee, he found her staring out the window, lost in thought. He set the cup down gently, but instead of leaving, he spoke again.  

“Hey, I don’t mean to pry, but are you... writing something? You looked really focused earlier. Like, next-level focused. Are you an author? Or maybe a secret spy writing down your next mission?”  

The stranger sighed, looking back at him with an exasperated expression. “Do you always ask this many questions?”  

“Only when I’m curious,” Mingyu replied with a grin. “And I’m very curious about you. You’ve got that whole mysterious, ‘I’ve got secrets’ vibe going on.”  

The girl finally gave a hint of a smile, though it was barely noticeable. “Maybe I do.”  

That small flicker of amusement was all the encouragement Mingyu needed. “Okay, so you are a spy. Or an undercover rockstar. Oh! Or a—”  

“I’m sorry, but I’m trying to work,” she interrupted, though her tone was softer now.  

Mingyu took a step back, raising his hands. “Got it. I’ll leave you to it. But if you need anything—like a refill, a snack, or a friendly face—I’m your guy.”  

“But you said you don’t work here.” 

As he walked away, the stranger shook their head, a faint smile tugging at their lips. Mingyu may have talked too much, but there was something disarmingly genuine about him that made it hard to stay annoyed.  

Heading up to grab his own cup from the counter, Mingyu stole another glance at her and couldn’t help but wonder what kind of story they were carrying—and whether he’d somehow become a part of it.

The next afternoon, the café was busier than usual, filled with a mix of students typing away on their laptops and a few regulars deep in conversation. Mingyu was at the counter, enthusiastically explaining to another regular Mrs. Park how the secret to perfect coffee lay in "a gentle pour and a mindful attitude," when the bell jingled again.  

Mingyu's head snapped up, and sure enough, the girl from yesterday was back. This time, she seemed even more aloof, her eyes scanning the room briefly before settling back on her spot in the corner. She didn't notice Mingyu’s stare as she quietly set down her cherry red journal and began flipping through its pages.  

Mingyu found himself momentarily frozen in place, suddenly aware of how *awkward* his last encounter had been. "Don't be weird this time. Don't overdo it," he muttered to himself, but his mind was already spiraling into potential conversation starters. What if he said something she’d find interesting? What if he said too much?  

With a deep breath, Mingyu stepped away from the counter. He was *determined* to keep things casual.  

“Hey, you,” Mingyu called out, walking toward her table, “back again, huh? Is the coffee that good, or are you just here for a change of scenery?”  

The girl looked up from her journal, her eyes scanning him briefly before she spoke in her usual flat tone. “Just getting out of the house for a while.”  

Mingyu nodded, trying to read the mood. “Yeah, I get that. Sometimes, you just need a little break from your own four walls. I mean, my walls are full of stuff—vinyl records, old concert tickets, a couple of questionable cat sweaters... but still.”  

Her lips twitched, just for a second. “A questionable cat sweater?”  

Mingyu grinned. “Yeah. It’s got a picture of a cat wearing glasses, trying to look intellectual. But honestly, I think it just makes the cat look like it’s about to take over the world. It was for my work Christmas party, but I’d be lying if I said I haven’t worn it more than once.”  

There was a moment of silence, and then the corner of her mouth curled up slightly. “I’d like to see that.”  

Mingyu’s heart did a little flip. She’s smiling. "It’s not for sale. Only available to cat enthusiasts who appreciate the depth of their feline overlords."  

Her smile lingered for just a second longer before it faded back into the neutral expression she wore so often. “I’ll take your word for it,” she said softly, her fingers tapping lightly on the table.  

Mingyu felt a brief hesitation. Maybe it was better not to press too hard. He had a tendency to run with a conversation until it got awkward, and right now, the conversation felt almost... comfortable.  

"So," Mingyu started, his mind racing for something else to say, “I’m guessing you’re writing more top-secret spy notes today? Or is it a shocking revelation about how you once got lost in a supermarket for three hours?”  

The girl’s eyebrow arched. “That’s an oddly specific guess.”  

Mingyu shrugged. “You'd be surprised how many people get lost in supermarkets. But, you know, it's all about the aisles and the lights. Before you know it, you're trapped in the frozen food section, wondering how you got there in the first place.”  

She watched him for a moment, then laughed softly—a real laugh this time, not just a polite chuckle. It was low, but genuine, and it made Mingyu’s chest feel lighter than it had in days.  

“Okay, I’ll admit that’s sort of funny, considering I assume you’re speaking from experience,” she said, surprising him even more. “But no, I’m not writing about that. Just...” She paused for a moment, her fingers stopping their restless tapping. “Just... trying to work through some things.”  

The shift in her tone was subtle, but Mingyu could feel the change. For the first time, he wasn’t just a guy talking too much. He was hearing her in a way that felt real, as if she was opening up to him without fully realizing it.  

“I get it,” Mingyu said, his voice softening. “Sometimes you just need a space to think things through. Like, I talk on the radio every night—way too much sometimes—but I guess it helps me sort out my own head.”  

The girl looked up at him then, her eyes lingering on his face with a quiet intensity that made his heart race.  

“You talk on the radio?” she asked.  

Mingyu chuckled awkwardly. “Yeah. You could say I’m kind of a big deal, I mean here anyway to people who know me” He made a vague gesture to the café around them. “But only to the people who are really into weird facts and  random stories. Like, one time I told my listeners about how I accidentally ended up with two lunch boxes after a miscommunication with a vending machine. I’m not proud of it, but hey, it makes for a great segment."  

She tilted her head slightly. “What else do you talk about?”  

Mingyu opened his mouth to reply, but then realized he was getting carried away. "Well, I don't want to bore you with my radio segment. Not everyone's cup of tea."  

She looked thoughtful for a second. “I’d listen to you.”  

His heart skipped. “Really?”  

“Maybe.” She leaned back in her chair, her gaze still steady. “If you were actually interesting enough.”  

Mingyu burst out laughing. “Okay, ouch. But I’ll take that as a challenge.”  

She shrugged, and for a moment, Mingyu just stood there, unsure whether he’d said something that was too much or if she was just being her usual, unreadable self.  

Finally, he broke the silence with a casual, “If you do end up listening, I’ll make sure to talk about my cat sweater for at least twenty minutes. That’ll make it worth your while.”  

A flash of amusement crossed her face. “I’ll hold you to that.”  

Mingyu smirked, making a mental note to talk in depth about his weird festive sweater, “Are you ever going to tell me your name?” 

“If you’re worth it.” A challenge from the enigma of a girl. 

“Okay, I’m Mingyu, by the way.” 

She just smiled as he walked off and went back to her black coffee without another word. 

Later in the night, the rain hitting the pavement outside of his office he watched as he had just finished setting up for his radio show. He spoke into the microphone, he could still feel the weight of his earlier conversation with the girl in the café. Something about her, her quiet mystery, had left him thinking, and for the first time in a long while, he felt calm on air.  

“Good evening, everyone,” Mingyu’s voice boomed through the mic. “I’m your host, Mingyu, here to take you through the night with some extremely random thoughts in between your hot hit countdown. But first, let’s talk about something near and dear to my heart: cats. Yes, that’s right. Cats. And how, in some cultures, they’re considered mystical beings that can sense your innermost thoughts. Which, if you ask me, explains a lot about why my cat is currently judging me for eating cereal at 11 PM.”  

He paused, chuckling to himself as he imagined the girl sitting in the corner of the café, maybe listening to him right now.  

“Anyway,” he continued, leaning into the mic. “If anyone out there has a cat sweater as legendary as mine, I’d love to hear about it. Or if you’ve ever gotten lost in a supermarket, accidentally adopting an extra lunchbox, send me a message. You know, just the things we all need to talk about. Let’s connect, guys. Let’s keep it real. If you’re watching us live right now on Youtube leave your stories in the chat or don’t hesitate to hit me up on twitter at gyunation.”  

The next morning, the café was as cozy as ever, with soft music playing in the background and a few early risers getting their caffeine fix. Mingyu was ordering coffee when the door opened again. He turned, already knowing who it was before she even walked in.  

The girl from the had returned. She gave him a small, knowing smile as she walked in and headed toward her usual table.  

Mingyu’s heart skipped a beat. “I didn’t expect to see you here again.”  

She raised an eyebrow. “I said I’d hold you to it.”  

He blinked. “Wait, what?”  

“You’re wearing your cat sweater today,” she said with a hint of a smile, her eyes glinting. “And I’m listening to you. Now, tell me about the mystical powers of cats, Mingyu.”  

Mingyu couldn’t help it. He grinned. He’d found a way to connect, just like he’d always hoped—through the stories, through the weirdness, and maybe, just maybe, through the unexpected bonds that only seemed to form when you weren’t trying so hard.  

“If you finally tell me your name.” 

“It’s y/n.” 

Mingyu blinked, a mix of surprise and excitement flickering in his eyes. "Y/N," he repeated slowly, as if savoring the sound of it. It was simple, yet it felt like a small victory. There was something about hearing her name that made everything feel a little less mysterious, a little more real.  

“I didn’t expect it to be so... normal,” Mingyu said with a half-joking grin, but there was a warmth in his tone that made the words feel genuine. "I was kind of hoping for something  cooler, like... I don't know, Phoenix or something. Or even Astrid, that would’ve been a great name."  

Y/N raised an eyebrow, a teasing smile playing at the corners of her mouth. “You’ve been thinking about this, haven’t you?”  

Mingyu let out a short, embarrassed laugh. “Maybe. I get random ideas sometimes. Like, when I was younger, I was convinced my name should’ve been something cooler, like Max or Axel. But then I realized I was always just Mingyu. And now, well, I’m starting to like it." He hesitated for a second. “I’m starting to like the name y/n too.”  

There was a flicker of something in her expression, something soft and fleeting, before it was replaced with her usual composed demeanor. “I’m glad to know you like it. Mingyu is honestly a nicer name than Axel. Though, you’re still in trouble. I’m waiting for my cat wisdom.”  

Mingyu nodded enthusiastically, happy to follow the new flow of their conversation. He slid into the chair across from her, trying to hide the fact his hands were still slightly shaking from the excitement of actually talking with her. “Okay, okay. The mystical powers of cats—where do I even begin?” He leaned in dramatically, as if about to reveal some ancient secret.  

"First of all, cats are masters of manipulation," Mingyu began, gesturing with his hands for emphasis. "I mean, if you’ve ever had a cat sit on your lap, staring at you like they know you’ve got food, but they're too dignified to beg—that’s sort of like when you know you’re in their power."  

Y/N’s lips twitched, and for the first time, she seemed fully engaged in his rambling. “Manipulation, huh?” she murmured, leaning back in her chair. "I thought we were talking about mystical powers, not  deviousness."  

Mingyu grinned. “That is their mystical power, come on. They can manipulate you into giving them whatever they want, whether it’s food, affection, or a new scratching post. It’s all about the gaze, the quiet dominance. There’s a reason people say cats can see into your soul.”  

Y/N nodded slowly, clearly entertained. “Okay, I’ll give you that one. But what about the mystical part? You know, the one where cats are supposed to be magical, like, bringing good luck and stuff.”  

“That’s a good one.” Mingyu leaned forward, his eyes lighting up with the sudden spark of inspiration. “Well, think about it. Cats sleep all day, but when they wake up, they’re already confident they can get what they want. They just know that time is precious, that sleep is sacred, and that the real power is in being present when it counts.”  

He paused for a second, realizing that this wasn’t just him making random, funny observations anymore. There was something about how he’d said it—how focused he’d been—something deeper that he hadn’t planned for. Mingyu quickly shook his head, feeling a little embarrassed.  

“Okay, maybe I’ve been watching too many cat videos, but you get what I mean, right?”  

Y/N’s eyes softened, and she gave him an almost imperceptible nod. “I get it. Cats don’t waste time. They don’t do things for anyone but themselves. That’s kind of powerful.”  

“Exactly.” Mingyu’s smile was so wide it threatened to overtake his face. “It’s like they’ve got it all figured out. We’re all running around, doing a million things at once, but cats? They take it easy, let things come to them and somehow, it works out.”  

Y/N sat there, looking at him for a moment, before her gaze drifted down to her journal. "I never thought about it that way," she said quietly.  

Mingyu noticed the shift in her energy. It was subtle, but he could tell that his words had struck something deep. Before he could say anything more, she lifted her head again, her expression more thoughtful than before.  

"Maybe I need to take a page out of the cat playbook," she murmured, almost to herself.  

Mingyu watched her for a moment, wondering if he’d said too much, or if he was getting into dangerous territory where he might have pushed her too far with his endless chatter. But when she glanced back up at him, there was no irritation, only curiosity.  

“I think we all do,” Mingyu said softly. “We could all use a little more time to just be. No pressure. No rush. Just existing in the moment.”  

Y/N gave a small smile, and for the first time, Mingyu felt like it wasn’t just her pulling away from the world. It was almost like she was letting a piece of herself connect to him, in this little moment of vulnerability.  

"So," he said after a beat, trying to keep the conversation light, "what are you going to do now? Go home and take a nap like a true cat?"  

Y/N chuckled, the sound soft and genuine. "No, I think I’ll stay here for a bit longer." She looked up at him, her eyes glinting with amusement. "But maybe I’ll actually finish what I’m writing today. You know, before I get distracted by any more of your stories."  

Mingyu’s grin widened, feeling a sense of accomplishment that he hadn't realized he was craving. “I promise, I’ll keep the stories to a minimum. But if you need a distraction, you know where to find me.”  

She raised her cup of coffee, as if to make a toast. "I might just have to do that."  

Later that day Mingyu returned to his usual post at the counter on his break from the studio, his mind still buzzing with the conversation he’d just had with Y/N. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this good about a conversation. His thoughts wandered back to her, and how she hadn’t seemed annoyed by his rambling. Instead, she’d actually listened—like she wanted to listen.  

As the afternoon light filtered through the café windows, he found himself stealing glances at Y/N from the counter. She was still scribbling in her journal, her focus so intense it was almost like she was channeling her own version of that "cat power" he had talked about earlier.  

And maybe, just maybe, he could be a part of her story. Or at least, part of the narrative she was writing in her mind.  

The thought made him smile to himself, and for the first time in a while, he felt like he wasn’t just talking to fill silence. He was talking because it felt like she was listening—and maybe, just maybe, she was starting to like the sound of his voice, too.  

Y/N’s eyes sparkled as she grabbed her things from the table and walked up to him standing in line,”I already got you another one, I remembered you came here around this time yesterday so I just took a shot.” Her fingers brushing against his in the exchange. 

“I think it’s going to be just what I need,” he said softly, her smile lingering.

Mingyu nodded, suddenly aware of the quiet space between them. For a moment, neither of them spoke, but there was something comforting in the silence, something deeper than just shared words. It was like they both understood that there was more here than just a random meeting. Maybe, just maybe, they were starting to find something that couldn’t easily be put into words.

“So, what’s on your agenda today?” Mingyu asked, leaning against the counter, trying to keep the conversation going. “Any secret missions? Any mysteries waiting to be solved?”

Y/N took a sip of her espresso, savoring the rich taste before setting the cup down and looking at him with a thoughtful expression. “Actually, yes. I have been thinking about something,” she said, her voice quieter now, more reflective. “I’ve been thinking about what it means to really be somewhere. You know? Per our earlier conversation. Not just physically, but mentally. To actually let yourself be present and not be running from one thing to the next.”

Mingyu’s brows furrowed as he processed her words. “I get that,” he said slowly, almost to himself. “I think... I think I’ve been running around like that a lot lately. Always filling up my time with stuff, trying to get things done, but I’m never really here, you know? It’s like, I’m always on autopilot.”

Y/N nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “Exactly. It’s easy to get caught up in the noise. But sometimes, the quiet is where the answers are.”

Mingyu felt a strange warmth spread through him at her words. It was as though they were having a conversation that was much bigger than coffee, much bigger than just now. It felt like she was giving him a glimpse into something he wasn’t quite ready to admit to himself.

"You know," he said softly, "I think I needed to hear that today."

Y/N looked at him, her gaze steady. "I think you were meant to hear it."

The words hung between them, and for a moment, Mingyu felt like the whole world outside the café had faded into the background. It was just him and her, and in this small, quiet space, they had carved out a little corner of understanding.

But before he could say anything more, Y/N stood, her bag slung over her shoulder. “I should get going,” she said, offering him a gentle smile. “But I’ll be back tomorrow.”

“Same time?” Mingyu asked, suddenly eager for the next day, for the next conversation, for the next moment with her.

She gave a slight nod, her smile turning a little more playful. “Same time. And don’t forget your charm, Mingyu.”

He laughed, feeling lighter than he had in days. “I’ll bring it. I promise.”

As Y/N left the café, Mingyu stood there for a moment, watching her go. He had no idea what was coming next, no idea what kind of story he and Y/N were writing together. But for the first time in a long time, he didn’t feel the need to rush ahead to the next chapter. He was content to let it unfold, slowly and naturally, like the turning of a page.

And when the door swung closed behind her, he found himself already looking forward to tomorrow.

This time, he didn’t mind that he was talking too much.

It was a slow evening at the radio station. Mingyu leaned back in his chair, spinning lazily in circles while a groovy indie track filled the studio. The red ON AIR sign glowed softly above the window, casting the room in a warm, familiar light.  

"Alright, everyone," Mingyu said into the mic as the song faded. His voice slid effortlessly into his signature radio tone—smooth, playful, and just a touch self-deprecating. "It's your favorite over-sharer again. If you're tuning in tonight, let me know you're out there. Send me your requests, your shout-outs, or your best guess for how long it took me to ruin my dinner plans this week."  

As he flipped through a stack of vinyl records, his thoughts wandered. He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about the now not so stranger at the café. She had become a regular fixture in his life over such a short time, always sitting in the same corner, writing in that journal of hers.  

The thought made him smile, and before he knew it, he was speaking again.  

"You know," he began, leaning closer to the mic, "there’s this person who’s been hanging around my favorite café lately. They don’t say much, but there’s something about them—you know, the kind of person who’s like a locked treasure chest. You just want to figure out what’s inside. I, of course, have been trying to charm them with my wit and sparkling conversation. Has it worked? I’d say sort of. But hey, persistence is key, right?"  

He chuckled, then added, “Anyway, I’ve decided to name them ‘Mystery Corner Person.’ If you’re listening, MCP, this one’s for you.”  

Mingyu queued up the next track—a dreamy, nostalgic tune that felt just right. As it played, he leaned back and sighed, wondering if she's still listening to hear his ridiculous ramblings.  

But, she did. 

The next morning at the café, y/n walked in earlier than usual, her journal tucked under one arm. Mingyu was sitting at a high top table at the window when they approached him directly.  

“I heard your show last night,” she said, her voice as calm and unreadable as ever.  

Mingyu froze, a muffin balanced precariously in one hand. “Oh, uh—did you?”  

Y/n tilted her head. “Mystery Corner Person?”  

Mingyu’s ears turned pink. “That... might’ve been about you.”  

“I figured.” They placed their journal on the counter, resting their hand on the cover. “You’re very open. I was waiting for you to bring it up actually.”  

“I like to think it’s part of my charm,” he said, flashing a sheepish grin.  

For a moment, they just stared at him, and Mingyu worried he’d made a fool of himself again. But then, to his surprise, the stranger smiled—a real, genuine smile.  

“Your persistence is let’s just say.. entertaining,” she said, her voice carrying the faintest hint of warmth.  

Mingyu felt a rush of relief and a spark of something else—hope, maybe. “Does this mean you’ll give me a shot? By being friends, I mean. Or acquaintances. Or—well, anything, really.”  

Y/n chuckled softly, their smile lingering. “I’ll give you a shot.”  

As they turned to head to their usual corner, Mingyu couldn’t help but grin. It wasn’t much, but it was something. And for the first time, he felt like he might actually be breaking through that carefully guarded exterior.  

He picked up his muffin and placed it back on the plate, walking over to their table with a little extra bounce in his step. Maybe his tendency to talk too much wasn’t such a bad thing after all.

“So, mystery corner person,” Mingyu started, his voice light, playful. “Does this mean we’re friends now, or are you just humoring me?”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, her lips quivering. “I’d say we’re on the road to friendship. But I wouldn’t get too comfortable just yet.”

“Fair enough,” Mingyu said, leaning against the back of the chair across from her, still standing. He tried to suppress the urge to keep talking, but the words came tumbling out before he could stop them. “I’ll take what I can get. Besides, I’ve learned that sometimes it’s the quiet ones who have the best stories, and I’m betting you’ve got some good ones. Maybe you’ll share them with me one day.”

Y/N chuckled softly, the sound melodic. “I’m not exactly one for sharing my whole life, though. Not yet, anyway.”

“Well, no pressure,” Mingyu said quickly, lifting his hands as if in mock surrender. “You’ve got your own time. But I’ve got to warn you—I’m a terrible secret keeper. So if you start telling me anything too wild, I might end up broadcasting it.”

“Sounds dangerous,” Y/N replied, her tone a little teasing. “I’ll make sure to be careful around you then.”

Mingyu smiled at the playful challenge in her voice. He was surprised how easy it felt to talk to her now. There was something about her calm, unruffled nature that made him feel comfortable in a way he hadn’t expected.

He sat down at the edge of the table, leaning forward. “Alright, alright. I’ll stop with the radio host charm for now,” he said, waving his hand dramatically. “But you should know, it’s a hard habit to break. I’ve been talking to a microphone alone for so long, I forget there are real people out there sometimes.”

Y/N glanced at him over the rim of her coffee cup, the corner of her mouth turning up in a small smile. “I think it’s a good thing. You’ve got a way of making everything sound a little brighter.”

Mingyu blinked at her, taken aback by the unexpected compliment. He wasn’t sure how to respond at first, but he found himself chuckling, trying to play it cool. “Well, thank you. That’s probably the nicest thing anyone’s said about my rambling.”

Y/N gave a slight shrug, but her eyes sparkled. “You make it sound like rambling is a bad thing. Sometimes, it’s nice to just say things and see where they go.”

“See?” Mingyu said, leaning in as if he’d cracked a code. “That’s what I’m talking about. You get it. You’re a fellow over-sharer in disguise, I just know it.”

Y/N let out a laugh, shaking her head. “Maybe. But I’ll have to decide whether you’re worthy of knowing my secrets first.”

“Well, I can’t promise I won’t annoy you with my stories,” Mingyu said with a wink. “But I’m pretty good at keeping secrets. If it makes you feel better, I won’t be sharing anything you don’t want me to.”

“Hmm, we’ll see about that,” Y/N said, a sly smile tugging at her lips.

Mingyu chuckled, standing up from his chair and giving a mock bow. “Alright, I’ll leave you to write. But, just so you know, I’m very persistent, so you’re going to be seeing a lot of me, mystery corner person.” 

Y/n just waved him off, “For someone who wanted to learn my name so badly you’re in the habit of not using it.” 

“Ah, you’ll be hearing a lot more of it. Don’t worry too much.” 

Y/N shook her head with a faint smile, but just as he turned to leave, something tugged at her resolve. She called out after him, her voice hesitant yet firm enough to stop him in his tracks. “Mingyu?”

“Yeah?” He turned around quickly, almost like he’d been waiting for her to say his name again. Their eyes met, and for a moment, the air between them felt charged, words hanging unspoken.

Y/N hesitated, her fingers brushing the edge of her notebook as if it could anchor her nerves. “Would you want to have dinner or something? I mean now that we’re friends, I figured we could hang out more. Not just over coffee.”

Mingyu’s expression softened into a genuine smile, one that reached his eyes and made them crinkle at the corners. “I’d love that,” he said without hesitation. “How about tonight? I’m off at 7:30. Can we meet at Yeatta’s? It’s just a block or two from here.”

“Yeah, that works for me,” Y/N replied, her heart skipping a beat as she tried to play it cool.

“Great,” Mingyu said, his excitement barely contained as he gave her a small wave. “I’ll see you there, Y/N.”

As he walked away, Y/N found herself staring at the space he had just vacated, her lips curving into an uncontrollable smile. There was something about Mingyu that made her heart feel lighter—like maybe, just maybe, this was the start of something worth holding onto.

Mingyu arrived at Yeatta’s at exactly 7:25, five minutes early but not surprising given the way he bounced on the balls of his feet, clearly eager. When Y/N walked in a minute later, scanning the small, warmly lit restaurant, she found him standing by the entrance, his smile lighting up as soon as he spotted her. 

“Right on time,” he teased, holding the door open for her. “I was starting to think you might stand me up.”

“Oh, please,” Y/N shot back, smirking as she stepped inside. “You’d just hunt me down at the coffee shop tomorrow.”

“True,” Mingyu admitted with a grin. “I’m nothing if not persistent.” 

They were seated at a cozy booth near the back, the smell of wood-fired pizza and roasted garlic wafting through the air. The atmosphere was relaxed, with dim lighting and soft jazz playing in the background. Y/N found herself relaxing more than she expected, her usual hesitations melting away under Mingyu’s easy charm.

“So,” Mingyu began, unfolding his napkin with a flourish, “are you going to finally tell me what you were writing so furiously in that notebook of yours?”

Y/N raised an eyebrow as she picked up the menu. “You mean the “mystery notebook” that you keep trying to pry into? Not a chance.”

“Come on,” he said, leaning forward with an exaggerated pout. “You can’t keep a secret forever. Especially not from me.”

Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn’t help laughing. “Nice try. Maybe if you guess right, I’ll tell you.”

“Deal.” Mingyu grinned like he had already won. “But first, what’s your go-to comfort food? And what drinks should we get? I need to know if you’re a pizza or pasta person before it kills me.”

“Depends on the mood,” she said, glancing over the menu. “But tonight? Definitely pasta and red wine. You?”

“Pizza all the way, yes to the wine for sure, I might get white though? Better for the red sauce is what I’ve heard before, not sure if it’s true.” he said confidently. “ But I’m flexible. We can share if you want to try both.”

The waiter had just placed their wine glasses on the table, a rich red for Y/N and a sparkling white for Mingyu, who claimed he wasn’t much of a wine connoisseur but was always up for a little sparkle. As they clinked their glasses, the sound rang out softly, blending into the warm hum of conversation around them. 

“To new friends,” Mingyu said with a grin. 

“And persistent ones,” Y/N added with a sly smile before taking a sip. The wine was smooth, warming her from the inside as much as the company did. 

“So,” Mingyu began, leaning back comfortably in his chair, “tell me something about you I wouldn’t guess just by looking at you.”

Y/N tilted her head, thinking as she swirled the wine in her glass. “Hm,I used to play the cello when I was younger. Like, seriously. Competitions and everything.”

“No way,” Mingyu said, his eyes widening in surprise. “Why don’t you still play?”

“I got too busy with school, life, and, well, other things took over,” she said with a shrug, a touch of wistfulness in her voice. “But it was fun while it lasted. Your turn.”

“Something you wouldn’t guess about me?” Mingyu echoed, rubbing his chin theatrically. “Alright. I once auditioned for a cooking show.”

Y/N’s eyebrows shot up. “Seriously? What happened?”

“Well,” he began, leaning in like he was about to reveal a deep, dark secret, “I made it to the second round. But then I totally botched a dessert challenge because I got the sugar and salt mixed up.”

Y/N burst out laughing, nearly spilling her wine. “Oh no! What were you trying to make?”

“A soufflé,” Mingyu groaned, dramatically slumping in his chair. “I thought I’d be impressive, but instead, I made the world’s saltiest disaster.”

“I would’ve loved to see that,” Y/N said, still laughing. “You’re brave, though. I can barely cook for myself, let alone under pressure.”

“Well, lucky for you, I happen to be a pretty decent cook these days,” Mingyu said with a wink. “Maybe I’ll redeem myself and cook for you sometime.”

Y/N arched an eyebrow but smiled. “We’ll see about that. I’ll be the judge. Ramsay style.” 

The conversation naturally shifted as the wine loosened their inhibitions. Y/N talked about her love for old bookstores and how she could lose hours flipping through dusty pages, imagining the lives of people who owned them before. Mingyu shared his obsession with spontaneous road trips, confessing that he once drove five hours just to try a diner he saw on TV. 

“You’re kidding,” Y/N said, incredulous but amused. “Was it worth it?”

“Absolutely,” Mingyu said, his eyes lighting up at the memory. “Best blueberry pancakes of my life..”

Y/N shook her head, smiling. “You’re so carefree. I don’t know if I could ever just get up and go like that.” 

“Why not?” Mingyu asked, genuinely curious. “Sometimes the best moments are the unplanned ones.”

“Maybe,” she conceded, taking another sip of wine. “But I’m more of a planner. I like knowing what’s ahead.”

“Well,” Mingyu said, his tone playful but with a trace of sincerity, “if you ever feel like throwing the plan out the window, let me know. I’m pretty good at finding adventures.”

Their conversation was momentarily interrupted when the waiter approached with their pizza—a perfectly charred margherita, the thin crust bubbling with golden edges, fresh basil leaves glistening against the vibrant red of the tomato sauce. The aroma alone made Y/N’s stomach rumble, but neither of them reached for a slice right away. Instead, they lingered over their wine, the warm, dim light casting a golden glow over the table as their laughter filled the space between them.

Mingyu leaned back in his chair, his grin wide as he recounted one of his more daring childhood memories. “So, I was about ten, and I decided I was going to build the fucking coolest treehouse in the neighborhood,” he said, gesturing animatedly. “I had this old plank of wood, some rusty nails, and no clue what I was doing, obviously. I climbed up this huge tree in my backyard—like, way higher than I should’ve—and started hammering away. Next thing I know, one of the branches snapped, and there I was, dangling halfway up the tree, screaming for my mom.”

Y/N gasped, covering her mouth with her hand, but the corners of her lips twitched in amusement. “No way. You didn’t fall, did you?”

“No,” Mingyu said, shaking his head dramatically. “But I was stuck for maybe three hours? My mom had to call the neighbors to bring a ladder. And the worst part? My treehouse was just some lame ass piece of wood dangling from the tree like I was. It wasn’t exactly the cool architectural design I pictured.”

Y/N burst out laughing, nearly spilling her wine. “That’s hilarious. I can totally picture you as this ambitious little kid, full of big plans and no backup.”

“Oh, absolutely,” Mingyu said, chuckling. “I had all the ideas but zero execution. What about you? Any wild childhood adventures? Secret missions rather, since you’re a mystery.” 

Y/N hesitated for a moment, then her expression softened, a faraway look in her eyes. “You’re a little bit of a smartass, huh? When I was fifteen, I used to sneak out of the house late at night—not to go to parties or anything. I’d climb out my bedroom window and bike to this hill just outside town. It was the perfect spot to stargaze. I’d lie there for hours, just staring at the sky, convinced I was going to be an astronomer one day. And as I got older I still go sometimes, just to have a beer and sit alone, it helps me relax.”

Mingyu’s smile softened, his gaze lingering on her as she spoke. “That sounds really nice actually,” he said, his voice quieter now. “Why astronomy?”

“I think I liked how small it made me feel,” Y/N admitted, swirling her wine glass absently. “Like, no matter how big my problems seemed, they were nothing compared to the universe. Plus, I thought if I studied the stars, maybe I could find some meaning up there. I was always sort of lost as a kid, too shy to make a lot of friends, too terrible at sports to have nobody laughing at me when I would try out for teams, all that.”

“I feel like you’re selling yourself short,” Mingyu said sincerely. “So you still go?”

Y/N shook her head, a wistful smile tugging at her lips. “Not as much anymore. Life got busier, you know? But I think about it sometimes. I miss how peaceful it was.”

“Well,” Mingyu said, leaning forward with a playful glint in his eyes, “next time you want to chase stars, let me know. I think I have a spot you’d like.”

Y/N laughed, raising an eyebrow. “You’d sit in silence under the stars? No smart ass remarks or treehouse stories?”

“Hey, shut up. I can be quiet,” Mingyu defended, though his grin gave him away. “For a little while, at least. But no promises if I see a shooting star. You’re supposed to make a wish, right? Mine would be to bring alcohol and snacks.”

Y/N chuckled, shaking her head as she reached for a slice of pizza at last. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet, here we are,” he teased, raising his glass for another toast. As their glasses clinked again, their laughter and stories spilled over like the wine in their glasses—easy, unhurried, and warm. Mingyu leaned back in his seat, his wine glass balanced loosely in his hand, and gave Y/N a look that was equal parts playful and sincere. “I’m serious, though. You tell me when you want to go stargazing, and I’ll make it happen. Snacks, drinks, blankets—you name it. I’ll even promise to be quiet for the first ten minutes.”

Y/N smirked, taking a small bite of her pizza. “Ten whole minutes of silence? That might actually be a record for you.”

“Don’t push it,” Mingyu shot back with a laugh. “You’d miss my voice too much.”

“Debatable,” she teased, but her smile lingered, softening the edge of her words.

They fell into a comfortable rhythm, their conversation weaving between playful banter and moments of genuine connection. Mingyu asked her more about her writing, his questions thoughtful and encouraging, and Y/N found herself sharing more than she expected—her half-formed ideas, her struggles with self-doubt, and her dream of one day publishing a book that might make someone feel the way she did when she opened a favorite story.

“I feel like you’re already halfway there,” Mingyu said, his tone serious now. “You light up when you talk about it. It’s nice to see you smile talking about something.”

She looked down at her glass, feeling the heat rise to her cheeks. “You make it sound so easy.”

“Maybe it’s not easy,” he admitted, “but that doesn’t mean it’s not worth it. Besides, if you ever need a cheerleader, I’m available. Very affordable, too—just pay me in pizza.”

Y/N laughed, her nerves dissolving under his earnest encouragement. “I’ll keep that in mind. What about you? What’s your big dream?”

Mingyu hesitated for a moment, tapping his fingers lightly on the table. “Honestly? I think I’m still figuring it out. But I know I want to make people happy, you know? Whether it’s through cooking, making them laugh, or just being there when they need someone. That’s what feels right to me.”

“That’s a pretty great dream,” Y/N said, her voice softening. “And I think you’re already doing it.”

Their eyes met, and for a brief moment, the noise of the restaurant seemed to fade away. Mingyu’s smile turned a little sheepish, and he scratched the back of his neck. “Well, I’m glad to know I’ve got at least one satisfied customer.”

Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn’t stop herself from smiling. “You’re not  terrible company, I guess.”

“High praise,” Mingyu teased, raising his glass again. “To not being terrible company.”

Y/N clinked her glass against his, her laughter mixing with his as they returned to their meal. As the night wore on, the slices slowly disappeared, but the conversation never lost its spark. They lingered long after the plates were cleared, talking about everything from childhood dreams to places they wanted to travel.

Eventually, the waiter discreetly dropped off the check, and Mingyu reached for it without hesitation. “Don’t even think about it,” he said when Y/N protested.

“I could’ve at least split it with you,” she said, crossing her arms.

“You could have,” Mingyu replied with a cheeky grin. “But then I wouldn’t get to say I treated you on our first official hangout. You can cover the snacks for stargazing—deal?”

Y/N sighed, shaking her head with a smile. “Deal.”

As they stepped out into the crisp night air, the city lights casting a soft glow on the streets, Mingyu turned to her. “So, was I as annoying as you thought I’d be?”

“Annoying? Yes,” Y/N said, her lips twitching in amusement. “But I don’t mind.”

“I’ll take it,” Mingyu said with a laugh. “Thanks for tonight, Y/N. It was probably one of the most fun things I’ve done in a while.” 

“It was,” she admitted, surprised by how much she meant it. “See you tomorrow, persistent coffee guy?”

“Oh, you’ll see me,” he said, winking before turning to head down the street. “Unless I see you first, Mysterious Corner Person.”

Y/N watched him walk away, a warmth settling in her chest. As she started toward home, she couldn’t help but smile, already looking forward to their next meeting.

As the dawn broke, the soft glow of the morning sun streamed through the windows of the café, casting a warm hue over everything. Y/N sat at her usual corner spot, absently scrolling through her phone while waiting for her favorite annoying friend. The comforting aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the air, mingling with the sound of light chatter and the clinking of cups. She hadn’t quite managed to shake off the memory of last night—Mingyu's laughter, the way his eyes sparkled when he spoke, and the lingering warmth of their conversation.

Just as she checked her watch to see if Mingyu had been late or not, she heard the tinkle of the doorbell, drawing her attention. In walked Mingyu, a wide grin plastered on his face, walking up to grab two steaming cups of coffee in his hands. Y/N’s heart did a little flip; she couldn't help but smile back as he approached her with the casual confidence that always made her stomach flutter.

“I brought you your favorite,” he said, placing the cup in front of her. “Consider this an apology for being too charming last night. I didn’t mean to sweep you off your feet or anything.” The teasing lilt in his voice made Y/N chuckle, though she rolled her eyes playfully, masking the warmth tinting her cheeks.

“Too charming, huh? Is that even a thing?” she shot back, taking a sip and savoring the familiar taste. With every interaction, she found herself drawn deeper into the lighthearted banter they had cultivated. He sat down across from her, his playful nature washing away any remnants of a serious morning.

As days turned into weeks, those spontaneous coffee runs became the highlight of Y/N's mornings. Each day, Mingyu would find a new reason to linger—asking about her weekend plans, recounting strange dreams that had caused him to wake up giggling, or debating the merits of pineapple on pizza. There were moments when their conversations would drift into deeper territory, discussing their aspirations, fears, and the odd twists life threw their way. 

Y/N soon discovered that Mingyu had an uncanny ability to make even the most mundane topics feel important. One Tuesday, as they squabbled over the best pizza toppings, he insisted, “Peppers and onions bring out the true flavor of the cheese!” which led to an impromptu debate that had them both laughing until their sides hurt. 

She found herself anticipating these morning rituals, a bubble of happiness blossoming in her chest at the mere thought of seeing him. What started as a casual coffee run had morphed into something undeniably special—she began to crave his company more than she cared to admit. 

Despite her attempts to play it cool, every shared laugh, every gently lingering gaze exchanged started to intertwine their lives in ways she hadn’t expected. Each day, the corner café felt a little more like a second home, not just because of the coffee, but because of Mingyu’s presence. Occasionally, she’d catch herself daydreaming about what it would be like to invite him over for a pizza night or to share a quiet evening watching movies, a little voice in her head whispering fears of slipping from friendship into something deeper—something beautiful yet terrifying.

But for now, they relished the simplicity—the easy comfort of shared coffee, laughter, and the exhilarating thrill of something unspoken hanging softly between them, waiting for the right moment to blossom.

After weeks of easy laughter and coffee-filled mornings, Mingyu—emboldened by Y/N's growing fondness for their time together—decided it was time to showcase his culinary prowess. He had mentioned his love for cooking during one of their coffee chats, specifically teasing about a past cooking show attempt that had ended in disaster when he mistakenly used salt instead of sugar in a dessert. It was an absolute failure, but the way he recounted it had left Y/N in stitches, and she couldn’t help but encourage him to put that experience behind him. 

So it was with a mischievous smile that Mingyu sent her a message inviting her over to his place for a “proper meal.” His confidence was infectious, and Y/N found herself excited at the prospect of spending an evening cooking together, even if she glimpsed a little fear behind her excitement.

That Saturday evening, Y/N arrived at his apartment with a spring in her step, holding a bottle of wine as her contribution to the dinner. Mingyu greeted her at the door, a cute apron tied around his waist, and his hair slightly tousled as if he had been preparing all day. The kitchen already smelled inviting, with the simmering of something savory in the background.

“Welcome to my kitchen.” he declared, flinging open his arms in mock grandeur. “Prepare to be blown away.” Y/N giggled, feeling a playful banter already brewing between them as they stepped into the kitchen. 

They started a little unsure, mixing up ingredients and dancing around each other in the small space. Laughter filled the air as he guided her through the preparation of their meal. Chopping vegetables turned into a chopping competition, resulting in some accidentally discarded pieces flying across the countertop. They were both a bit clumsy, but it only added to the charm of the evening. 

However, chaos ensued as Y/N intentionally mixed up the sugar and salt while measuring the ingredients for the sauce. As a callback to make fun of Mingyu’s cooking show embarrassment hoping he wouldn’t take it to heart too much. 

Mingyu’s face morphed from confusion to pure horror as he tasted the sauce. “What is this? Are you fucking with me?” he exclaimed, trying to keep a straight face but failing miserably, a burst of laughter erupting between them.

“Hey, I thought we could give you a call back to your days as an aspiring chef. You were just telling me to ‘add seasoning’!” Y/N retorted, her laughter bubbling over. 

The kitchen transformed into a battleground of flour and spills as they attempted to clean up the mess, dashing here and there grabbing paper towels and laughing uncontrollably as they dodged flour clouds that seemed intent on sticking to every surface—including themselves. The floor bore witness to a sprinkling of flour footprints leading from sink to counter and back. 

“Okay, okay. Clearly, we’re not going to win a Michelin star tonight,” Mingyu chuckled, wiping a hand across his forehead, flour now dusting his cheek. 

“Maybe we should just clean up and order takeout? Sorry for fucking up your nice meal” Y/N suggested with a grin, realizing neither of them had even started on the main course yet. 

“I have a feeling this was your plan all along, think I’m going to poison you?” He nodded enthusiastically. 

“Absolutely.” 

They huddled over his phone, browsing menus and sharing a laugh about different food combinations, all the while enjoying the relaxed comfort of each other’s company. As they placed their order, Mingyu playfully bemoaned the “greatest culinary disaster of the century,” and Y/N couldn’t help but tease him about his cooking abilities.

When the food finally arrived, they sat down on the couch, a jumble of takeout containers and mismatched plates, laughter still dancing in the air. They dug in, enjoying their food with a warmth that stemmed not just from the flavors but from the shared experience that had turned their simple dinner into pure chaos, followed by comfort as their legs touched settled into his cozy sofa, which they both pretended not to acknowledge. 

In between bites, their conversation flowed easily, the earlier chaos of the kitchen forgotten, only to be replaced by gentle teasing and heartfelt discussions. The evening had not gone as planned, yet in those moments, Y/N felt a closeness to Mingyu that she hadn't fully anticipated and wasn’re sure what it meant. 

As they polished off the last of their takeout, they leaned back against the couch, feeling the loosening tension from the day, laughter still bubbling between them. She glanced at him, his face lit up with a satisfied grin, and realized that this was far more memorable than if everything had gone perfectly. The spilled flour and overly salty sauce had become their personal anecdotes, stories to reminisce about, etched into their growing relationship. 

And even amid the mess, she felt something shift—this was more than just a casual evening; it was a bond that deepened with every laugh shared and every slight mistake made together. In the cozy warmth of the moment, Y/N found herself contemplating just how right it felt to be here with Mingyu. 

“Do you-” 

They both said at the same time, their laughter flowing still. Y/n prompted Mingyu to talk first, grabbing the can of sweating beer sitting on his coffee table and taking a swig. 

“No, just do you ever think about how crazy it is that we met each other?” Mingyu watched y/n's expression as if she was a television character. “We were strangers a few weeks ago and now here we are, I feel like I’ve known you my whole life.” 

Y/N felt a warmth bloom in her chest at his words, a flutter of something electric that made her heart race. Swallowing her sip of beer, she considered his question, the implications of it wrapping around her like a blanket. “It is sort of crazy,” she replied softly, leaning back against the couch and crossing her arms as she reflected on their journey. “Just a few weeks ago, we were two random people in a coffee shop, sharing awkward small talk over our drinks.”

Mingyu chuckled, his laughter warm and inviting, causing Y/N to smile at the memory. “Right? I remember how you tried to hide your eye roll when I started rambling about my guilty pleasure shows. You've been way more patient with my quirks than I deserve.”

“Hey, you didn’t have to twist my arm to talk about junk food and reality TV. That’s a gift you offered me,” she replied, nudging him playfully with her elbow. “But seriously, I don’t know. It just feels almost too easy with you.”

He nodded, the sincerity on his face deepening. “Absolutely. I had this fear that after my cooking show mishap, I’d never cook for anyone ever again. But, somehow, I feel comfortable with you. Like I can be myself—flour-covered and all.. 

“I get that.” she replied, her heart still racing from the way his eyes searched hers, filled with an openness that was rarely offered. “It’s everything—our late-night talks about nothing and everything, all those moments and I like that I don’t feel pressure to impress you.”

Mingyu’s gaze softened as he let her words sink in, a smile spreading across his face—a mix of relief and happiness. “I feel the same way. I guess it’s nice to find someone who can appreciate you for who you are, flaws and all.”

“I thought you didn’t have any flaws?” 

The atmosphere shifted slightly, a gentle gravity settling around them as they shared this moment of vulnerability. It felt like the world outside had faded away, leaving only the sacred space between them filled with thoughtful breaths and unspoken words.

Then, suddenly, Mingyu leaned a little closer, his elbow resting on his knee as he caught her gaze with an intensity that made her heart flutter even more. “You know… I think the best part about getting to know you is discovering how we both navigate our own messiness. We’re both a little chaotic in our own ways, and it’s refreshing to find someone else who can embrace that.”

Y/N felt her cheeks heat up as Mingyu’s honesty wrapped around her like warmth. She knew that beneath the laughter and playful teasing, he was speaking to something significant happening between them. “It’s like we balance each other out, right? Your zero flaws perfectly complement my complete lack of many. ”

He threw his head back in laughter, and it vibrated through them both like a comforting echo. Touching her thigh out of instinct. 

Mingyu’s expression shifted then, his eyes earnest yet playful as he leaned in closer, robes of laughter giving way to something deeper. “Okay, but in all seriousness—what do you think happens next for us? I mean, if we keep this up?”

Y/N swallowed hard, feeling the weight of his question, a mixture of excitement and vulnerability swirling in her chest. Tilting her head slightly, she studied his face, a thought bubbling to the surface that she hadn’t articulated before. “I guess we keep figuring it out. I know that’s a lame ass answer, but-” 

Mingyu’s face brightened, and he nodded enthusiastically. “We’ll have takeout nights, of course—maybe even attempt cooking again when we’re feeling bold.”

“Yes. But with a solid plan in place this time,” she teased, her heart warming at his enthusiasm. “whatever this is.”

“Whatever this is,” he echoed with a soft smile, stretching his arm out along the back of the couch, leaving just enough space for her to lean against him if she wanted to. The gesture lingered in the air, an invitation that made her pulse quicken.

Taking a deep breath, Y/N felt a wave of courage washing over her. She shifted closer, rationally giving way to instinct, and in that moment of intimacy, she let herself lean against him, their bodies fitting together effortlessly. 

“And I wouldn’t want to do it with anyone else,” she murmured softly, feeling a profound shift in their dynamic as she nestled against Mingyu’s side. Warmth enveloped her, not just from his body, but from the genuine connection they had forged. She took her hands to his warm cheeks and brushed off the lingering flour, running her fingers over his soft lips. 

Mingyu’s arm instinctively draped around her shoulders, holding her close, and she felt an undeniable sense of belonging in his presence. “You can’t be this close to me and not kiss me.” he replied quietly, and she could hear the sincerity in his voice, the gravity of their shared moment.

As she stared at him in silence for a minute, a smile washed over her face as she leaned in and made a path to his lips with hers instead at the last minute swerving and giving him a kiss on the cheek playfully. 

Laughter bubbled between them, lightening the tension that had built in the air. Mingyu looked momentarily surprised, his eyes widening and brows raising in mock disappointment. “Oh, come on. That was a dick move.”

Y/N giggled, the sound of a playful melody that danced around them in the cozy space. “I couldn’t help it. The look on your face was so worth it.” She winked mischievously, enjoying how their moment, which had felt so heavy and charged just seconds before, had shifted into this playful teasing.

Mingyu chuckled, shaking his head in playful disbelief. “You’re so mean.” He feigned frustration, but the warmth of his expression and the sparkle in his eyes told her just how much he enjoyed her whimsy.  

Pride swelled within her at his compliment, and her cheeks flushed at the spontaneity of it all. They were sharing this beautiful blend of fun and intimacy—a carefree-ness that made her heart flutter and her stomach twist into knots of anticipation. She hesitated for a moment, still wrapped in the warmth of his presence, contemplating allowing the moment to settle in further. 

“Okay, okay… I’ll redeem myself,” she said softly, meeting his gaze with a hint of seriousness beneath her earlier teasing. The shift in her tone caught his attention, and his playful expression faded slightly, replaced with an intensity that made her pulse quicken.

“Are you sure?” Mingyu asked, his voice low and filled with a vulnerability that made her heart ache in the best way. 

Y/N bit her lip, feeling the boldness wash over her again, surpassing any lingering nerves. “I am,” she assured him, her heart hammering as she leaned in closer this time, matching his gaze as they hovered just inches apart. “I guess we’ve come too far to hold back now, right?” 

“Right,” he breathed, his eyes darkening with something primal, something that sent a shiver of excitement coursing through her. The air between them felt charged, electric, as if they were daring each other to bridge the final distance.

In one swift movement, she closed the small gap, finally pressing her lips against his in a soft, tentative kiss. It was gentle at first, teetering on the edge of hesitation, but as Mingyu responded—his lips molding to hers with a warmth she'd yearned for.

Time seemed to blur around them as they savored the kiss, allowing the moment to expand, realizing that this was a milestone in their relationship. Y/N’s heart raced as she instinctively wrapped her arms around his neck, drawing him closer still; she could feel the way he leaned into her, matching her eagerness. Each touch ignited sparks, tossing her into a whirlwind of longing that was both intoxicating and exhilarating. 

When they finally pulled back, breathless, she leaned her forehead against his, her heart racing from the tenderness that hung in the air between them. Mingyu’s eyes were bright, reflecting the disbelief and joy of their shared moment. “Wow.” 

“Yeah?” she asked softly, a shy smile breaking across her face. “Because, I’d say it was mediocre.” 

The lightness returned, and Mingyu laughed, the sound lifting her spirits even more. “Shut up, you’re a liar, you were basically begging me for more. ”

“I might need another later, just so you can redeem yourself.” 

“I can make that happen, you know.” 

They grinned at each other, a shared understanding deepening their connection even further. The world outside felt like an echo, distant and unimportant as they savored this newfound bond, filled with untapped potential and the joy of each other’s company.

“Can you imagine what our friends would say if they knew we spent the night making a mess and then ended with a make-out session?” Mingyu said, his laughter still dancing in the air.

Y/N shook her head, chuckling softly. “Who knows? They might be incredibly jealous we got to have missed out on our “disaster” of an evening. But honestly, I wouldn’t change it for anything.”

“Me neither,” he replied, his tone shifting back to sincerity. “But just so you know, I’m claiming the next time we cook together you just sit and watch.”

“And why is that?” Y/N asked, raising an eyebrow in playful skepticism, her heart dancing at his enthusiasm.

“So I can look sexy for you in the kitchen and you might kiss me again, obviously.” he declared dramatically. 

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh, her heart swelling with affection for his silliness. “Alright, chef. You have yourself a deal. But next time? I’m bringing dessert.”

“Maybe I’ll just have you for dessert.” Mingyu said with a teasing grin, and she felt her cheeks flush once again in delight. 

With that playful banter, the rest of the night melted away into easy laughter, light touches, and the thrill of new beginnings. She felt something incredible blooming between them, something beautiful that blended friendship with a newfound romantic spark, and she couldn’t wait to see where their journey might take them next. 

As they settled back on the couch, Y/N nestled against him once more, content with the knowledge that whatever chaos life threw their way, they would tackle it together—with laughter, love, and perhaps a little less clothes involved.

[hyperions-light]

Someone was being a fucking hater on my explicitly positive DATV post AGAIN (u all know I can see your tags right. They get delivered to me express mail style) so here’s an essay about how I thought the Grey Warden plotline was great:

First, it was extremely lore-consistent. I don’t know how to tell people this, but the Grey Wardens simply are sort of shady— it’s part of their charm. In DAO alone we found out they:

- kill anyone who refuses the joining

- are definitely using a blood magic ritual to induct people

- tried to usurp the throne of Fereldan

In DA2 they:

-Forced Malcolm Hawke to perform a blood magic ritual against his will to contain Corypheus, by threatening to kill his family

- Built a giant prison in the mountains they didn’t tell anyone about and that someone could wander into and not be able to escape

- the entire Corypheus thing. They didn’t even tell the other Wardens like what he was or how dangerous he was.

DAI:

- the demon army thing was pretty bad

And that’s not even mentioning any stuff from the books or comics or shows! That’s just stuff in the games!

So they’re shady. It’s okay! They’re my little woobie guys, idc if they’re sort of shady!

But the plot in DATV is about all of those previously established issues coming back to bite them in the fucking ass, as they should! Knock knock, it’s the consequences of your actions, baby! The chickens are home to roost

(Which is just good storytelling. Like if you set up a bunch of issues and then never pay them off or anything that’s bad.)

Destroying Weisshaupt was inspired! Firstly bc Davrin is Weisshaupt, metaphorically (bulwark against the darkness, etc, I already made a post) so it serves his character arc. But also because it strips away the pageantry and the grandeur from them; no more castle for you! No more myth!

Davrin explicitly tells you that the First Warden is a traditionalist; he represents the historical attitudes of the Wardens. They do not accept help, they do not give up their secrets, they are standing alone against the dark. And it doesn’t work! He’s fucking wrong (and very punch-able). Being secretive and isolationist is a mistake that costs them nearly everything.

But also, and I’m not sure how many people experienced this on the first go-around, the game does ultimately come down on the side of the Wardens always trying to do the right thing. You CAN talk the First Warden down, because in the end he’s a Warden, and he might be stubborn and curmudgeonly and miserable but he CARES about the world. He came to do good. He admits he was wrong and he helps you. Because the heart of the Wardens is about selfless service to other people. In Death, Sacrifice.

Stripping away Weisshaupt and the glory and pageantry leaves the Wardens at their most vulnerable and forces them to return to their fundamental principles: helping people. That’s what Lavendel is about. Helping individual people and preserving every life possible even if it doesn’t feel that glamorous or heroic. Lavendel isn’t a significant place; it doesn’t matter, but it matters so much.

And then, the Cauldron.

First off, do not at me about Last Flight. I don’t think people should have to read external materials to play this game and understand it. If the information is vital it should be presented to the player in the text.

The Cauldron is the repository of the Wardens’ secrets; it’s where the keep the bones of the Archdemons, the secret to the Joining, ancient and dangerous weapons, as well as the bodies of the griffons, which represents their most shameful errors. Isseya is the avatar of the Wardens’ mistakes; she’s been hurt by what they made her do, and her pain was never acknowledged by them. They buried her story and her suffering like they bury everything they don’t want to deal with and are ashamed of. They left the bones of the griffons, whose deaths they directly caused, to rot because they were too sad to acknowledge them.

But it was wrong to walk away, it was wrong to bury it. Isseya makes sure that they can never do that again, that they have to own what they did and take responsibility. By discovering who she is and by restoring her personhood to her, by reminding her of her love which drove her to her anguish in the first place, Davrin saves her and he saves the griffons. He doesn’t do it using violence, because another sin of the Wardens is just assuming that they can kill their way out of their problems, which the game disproves by revealing the origin of the Blight. You can kill as many darkspawn as you want, you will never fix it! The Titans’ dreams do not need to be slain, they need to be healed.

Isseya is in so much pain because of her incredible love for both the griffons and the Wardens, and because of her guilt. Look what she builds! An alternate Weisshaupt, a distorted reflection of her home. She entreats both Davrin and Assan to join her, because she doesn’t think she’s trying to destroy anything. She’s trying to save them! She wants them to come home. “I am their mother,” she says, and she’s right. She saved them, then, and she ends up saving them now! Because she made Davrin and the other Wardens look, unflinchingly, at what they had done, it will never happen again. She was going about it wrong during the game, but she was ALWAYS trying to save them.

Davrin, Antoine and Evka represent the Wardens’ commitment to being different. They let Flynn undergo the Joining without becoming a Warden, they reveal secrets to non-Warden Rook, they offer to help the Viper without asking for anything in return. They ask for help and offer it freely. If the Wardens are going to persist into a world without Archdemons, they HAVE to change. They can’t be what they were anymore. The game is asking what a Warden is when they have to be more than their oath, when they have to live. It’s a great exploration of and expansion on previously established lore.

Anyway, my advice if you hated the plot and the game and the characters is to a) make your own post b) don’t bother me about it, because I have the time and I will be loudly positive in response!

[docdudo]

Hybrid 141 As Parents - Foster Human Child!Reader (Part 8)

It's not that you didn't like Johnny. He was just as nice as all the others, more charismatic than Price and Ghost, that's for sure. He was gentle with you, and that's nice, very nice... but goddamnit, was he lively.

You had werewolf classmates before, of course you did, and to be honest? They were all the same. Too much energy, too much movement, just... too much. Your only saving grace was that none of them were friends with you, so you didn't deal with their energy directly most of the time.

But now, one of your foster parents is a werewolf.

And... you are not really too excited about that. You follow along the path with him, watching his wagging bushy tail, sharp smile and light gym clothes like he barely feel the cold weather, and... you try to get used to this.

Used to him.

"Aye, and this is our shed!" Johnny smiles, pointing at the the big shed by the side of the house. The wooden door, differently to the doors inside the house, had a high handle and a big lock, making you look at it a bit questionably as Johnny chuckles a little. "Yeah, lass, ye can't go inside the shed alone. Too many dangerous tools."

You nod slightly, not really interested in the shed in the first place. There were houses you have stayed in that wouldn't let you go inside any room besides your bedroom, the bathroom and the living room. You were used to these kind of rules.

"Ye sure you don't wanna play tag, pup?" Johnny asks as he turns to you, clearly excited as his tail wags hard and ears perk up. "It's healthy to exercise! Ah'm sure ye'll like it, aye??"

You don't really answer verbally, but just your conflited expression was enough to make him sigh a little with a smile still on his face.

"'Kay, 'kay, ah get it." He shakes his head slightly, tail calming down a little on all the wagging. "I'll try to follow Kyle's advice." Then, he cups his mouth lightly with his hand, like he's telling a secret, as he whisper-shouts to you. "Lad's the smartest of the bunch, he knows what he's talkin' about!"

You nod slightly at that, a small smile coming to your face. He has a bit of a funny personality.

Just your small, shy smile was enough for him to bite down on his lower lip as he tried to control the deep croon he wanted to let out. God... he wanted to just pick you up and carry you forever. He really thought he wouldn't have a more delicate baby then when his harpy babies were born, but oh God, was he wrong....

You just look soooooo... damn small, and cute, and fragile. You don't move much, you don't look particularly energetic and you are bundled up cutely with layers of warm clothing as you look up at his face with big eyes.

So defenseless. How did humans defend themselves in this world??

He couldn't let you get hurt, ever. You are his resposibility now. His and his pack's responsibility.

And, oh God, were you shivering? You seemed to have curled up a little, was it too cold despite their efforts??

How easily did a human get sick??

He's warm. He's very warm. He could warm you up right away. You got so warm when he curled up with you on the nest, he could do it again...

"I-is everything okay...?" Your little meek voice snapped him out of his instincts for a second, eyes widening as he clears his throat slightly.

"Aye, aye, perfectly fine, wee lass. Come 'ere."

Even tho he told you to come to him, he was the one to come to you and kneel down in front of your small form, big hands coming to your jacket to gently adjust on your body firmly, a focused expression on his face as he checks all your others piece of clothing.

"Is it too cold out 'ere, lassie?" He coos quietly, a small pout coming to his lips naturally. It looked like he was talking to a toddler, and it made you blush a little in embarrassement.

"I-It's fine..." You mumble back, unsure. Yeah, sure, it was a bit cold, but nothing you couldn't take, especially with your new clothes.

He didn't seem very convencied, and quickly, he picked you up on his arms, easily taking you to his chest. You were not that surprised anymore, even if just a little startled, but at least he felt warm...

"Ye see, wee lass... we live a bit farther than the other houses, aye?" He asks as he turns to look back at the rest of the land, a lot of grass in a big, big plot, surrounded by a forest. There was a street not that far from there taking to the rest of the city. "We like lots of space, so our plot comes from all the way from the back of our house to the street up ahead."

That makes you winden your eyes a little, and now that you were in his warm arms, turning your head on his direction made you almost bump noses with him.

"All the way to the street...?" You mumble, almost incredulous.

"Aye! Big plot, yeah? Pride and joy to raise my pups 'ere! And when ye go back to school, we'll use one of our trucks to take ye." He smiles, tilting his head to the side in the direction of a big construction in the distance, hard to see, but you deduced it was where the automobiles were.

Suddenly, his fluffly ears perked up, turning on the direction of the house without him even turning his face. A smile appeared easily on his face as he looked down at you on his arms.

"Mama is calling us back." He snickers as he jokes, making you tilt your head in confusion a bit. "Simon, aye? Actually, both mamas. Even Kyle is starting to get antsy. Best that way, eh, wee pup? Before ye get a cold."

You turn your head over his shoulder to look back at the house, and sure enough, Simon and Kyle were both waiting by the open door as Johnny started to make his way back with you still on his arms.

"Tsc, are you trying to make her get sick?" Simon snarks as soon as you two get close enough to the door, grabbing you from Johnny's arms as he takes you inside quickly.

"We dinae even spend that much time outside!" Johnny protests even tho he still had a smile on his face.

"No, I agree with Si, even I was getting a bit antsy." Kyle sighs, closing the door behind Johnny, making sure to lock it. "I thought it would be fine, but it's cold out, and... ugh, whatever. It's hard to explain." He grunts, shaking his head.

"Nah, I get it." Johnny laughs slightly, watching Simon taking your jacked and beanie off gently as he leads you to the kitchen to eat dinner. "Was getting deep into my instincts and lassie was just... standing still, looking at me with big ol' eyes."

"Next time, we are all going out together." Kyle nods, going back to the kitchen with Johnny right behind him.

[sugurusfavemonkey]

A Helping Hand summary: Satoru needs help taking care of Megumi and Tsumiki. pairing: Satoru Gojo x reader ୨୧ friends to lovers; mutual pining; domestic fluff; canon divergence - both Gojo and reader are over 18 when Gojo takes in the Fushiguro siblings. word count: 3.8k warnings: very brief suggestive themes by the end that may lead to a spicy pt 2

"Not everyone can handle that much sugar, Gojo." you deadpanned as soon as you answered your ringing phone, eyes still glued to the paperwork you had neglected finishing until the very last minute. "Some of us are prone to get cavities you know... or diabetes."

You smiled at hearing his laughter from the other end of the line, grateful he wasn't in the room to tease you about your affectionate expression, "Hello to you too, sunshine"

"Like I said, if you want to try that new bakery at Nihonbashi go bother Shoko. Yaga has been pestering me about handing over my papers on time for the past few days and I'm already behind on it."

"Oh! I had nearly forgotten about that place. I heard they have the best strawberry shortcakes in Tokyo! I'm definitely taking you there this week, paperwork can wait." Gojo mused with a soft hum, "that's not why I'm calling though."

"Um-hum. What issue do you need my help with then?" You dropped your pen, yielding on getting any work done while on the phone with your troublesome friend.

"I resent that. Sometimes people call their friends just to catch up or something like that!"

You pushed the swivel chair away from the desk you had been leaning over for the past hour and put one leg up, resting your elbow on your knee, "except they're not you."

"Are you implying I'm not a good friend?" Satoru gasped dramatically, "you wound me, woman!"

"Gojo."

"What?"

"Get to the point"

He sighs, "fine. I need your help."

"Ha! I knew it!" you snapped your fingers at his admission and smirked to yourself, pleased with being able to read Satoru to a T.

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Just get to the address I'm sending you." you could nearly hear the eye roll in his tone.

"What? Hold on, I never agreed to-" your leg slid back down, your sock clad foot dropping to the ground with a muffled thud as you slid forward in your seat, free hand grasping onto the arm rest.

"See you soon, sweets!" he hang up before you had time to counter any further.

You hadn't even put the phone down when your heard two successive chimes, announcing incoming messages from none other than Satoru Gojo himself consisting of the address he had promised followed by one short instruction:

"...bastard." you mumble the insult under your breath even if he can't hear. The knowledge that he knew you would follow his command despite your earlier resistance making you drop your weight back in the chair dejectedly.

。。+゜゜。。+゜゜。。+゜゜。。

It takes you nearly two hours, what with having to appropriately dress yourself before leaving your room, taking the train from Tokyo to Saitama and finally a bus until you made it to the nearest stop to the location Gojo had "requested" your presence at.

The address led you into a path of uneven, light-colored stone slabs, bestrewed with patches of moss and grass - an obvious sign of the minimal maintenance kept over the time - that winds between rows of low-rise visibly weathered residential buildings on either side, with peeling paint, small cracks and walls darkened from exposure.

You compared the number on the side of building to the message's one more time, trying to figure out what was Satoru's goal sending you to the scanty suburban neighborhood you stood at. You check your surroundings, expanding your senses for any signs of danger, but nothing really stood out for you.

"There you are! C'mon in, slowpoke. Get up here. We've been waiting long enough for you!"

... we?

You looked up at the voice calling out onto to spot Gojo waving enthusiastically from his spot leaning at the protective iron bars of the narrow balcony above.

Overhanging gutters and pipes snake across the building, along with electrical wiring. The wooden eaves and narrow balconies seem to have endured years of use in a slightly chaotic but familiar urban atmosphere.

Satoru didn't give you time to form a response before diving back inside, disappearing from your view.

You shake your head incredulously and quickly head to the door underneath the balcony.

The entrance led to a narrow staircase barely illuminated by flickering yellow fixtures and a slightly ajar wooden door at the end of it. You climbed up the stairs two at a time in your haste.

Before you even thought of knocking the door was pulled open, revealing Gojo and, behind him, a much better illuminated ambiance than the one you stood in.

The inside of the house was small, the furniture simple, an obviously lived in place if the strewed pieces of clothing, books and toys were weighted in. A living room and a tiny kitchen with a conjoint laundry separated by a counter only made up the space you could see and a door led further into the apartment, probably into a corridor with more doors or directly into an ensuite bed and bathroom.

"What the fu-"

"Shhh!!" He snapped, hand pressing over your mouth to stop you from finishing your sentence, "watch your language, sweets. We have tiny ears in the room."

You glanced over his shoulder again, this time taking notice of the two children sat on the worn out green(ish) three-seat couch. Your widened eyes only made Satoru smile as his hand dropped from your face.

"I know cuss words too, you know." the boy voiced with a bored expression from his spot, clearing having guessed on what you have been about to say before the interruption.

"Of course you do, little adult." Satoru spoke with a chuckle, peered over his shoulder and returning to you in a whisper: "can you believe he is a first grader? The boy looks and sounds like he could do my taxes for me!"

"Wha- what is the meaning of this, Gojo?" You questioned once the surprise eased up, trying to look into his eyes for an explanation through the dark lenses of his glasses.

"These are Toji Fushiguro's kids."

"Actually, I'm not really related to him." the girl chimed in quietly, waving meekly when you looked her way.

"Are you gonna make her stay at the door, Gojo?"

"You're totally right, little guy! How inconsiderate of me." He stepped aside, bowing at the waist and doing a grand gesture with his arm. "Would you like to come in, milady?"

"Shut up, dork." You giggled in spite of yourself as you passed him into the place.

"Sweets, meet Tsumiki and Megumi Fushiguro!" Satoru beamed, looking almost proud as he pointed out each kid to you.

"Hey there." You waved with a soft smile, still trying to make sense of the scene in front of you.

Tsumiki smiled politely while Megumi offered you a head nod in acknowledgment. You winced at their lack of response.

"Can we speak privately, Gojo?" you whispered, leaning a bit closer to your friend.

"Right!" He clapped his hands together, the sound echoing in the room and turned the kids again, "would you guys mind go play or something while the grown ups talk?"

Megumi rolled his eyes, but jumped from the couch, waiting until his sister followed suit. "We'll just be in the main room while you talk."

You patiently waited until they were on the other side of the door you had spotted in your first surveyance of the room before crossing your arms over your chest and demanding: "explain. Now."

"Okay, okay. Calm your horses. It's simple, really. I don't think I told you this, but... Toji told me about a son he had sold to then Zenin's before... you know. So, being the good samaritan that I am, I decided to look for said kid and voilà! Here we are."

"That explains nothing, dumbass. Why am I here? Why are you here?"

He sighed, dropping onto the sofa with a dramatic flare that would bring many actors to their knees, head thrown back and one arm slung over his eyes, the appliance making a weird noise at the sudden weight thrown onto it.

"Out with it." You relentlessly pressured for more information. He sat back up, manspreading on the sofa, eyes still hidden under dark lenses when he faced you.

"I asked what he wanted. The boy." there was a seriousness to his tone you didn't hear often.

"Megumi?"

"Yeah. And he wanted to know if his sister would be happy there."

"Hell no! Those bastards treat women like shit! And she doesn't seem to have a lick of cursed energy, so she would probably be treated worse than the dust under their shoes." You shivered at your own observation, concerned for the little girl.

"That's what I said! So... I promised I would take care of things."

"Ok... what does that mean? Have you reached another relative that can take them or what?"

"About that..."

"Gojo."

"They don't have anyone else. Tsumiki's mother and father are gone, as is Megumi's mother. And Toji..."

"Yeah, I know." You paused, pinching the bridge of your nose. "So what? You'll just... adopt them? Gojo, you can barely take care of yourself, imagine not one but two kids?"

"Hey! I'm great at taking care of myself! And no one said anything about adoption. I was thinking maybe more on the line of a sponsor. With the schools endorsement, too. Those old farts will probably be very interested in Megumi's technique." you opened your mouth to comment on it, but Satoru cut you off, "don't worry! I won't let them lay a finger on the boy. I said I would take care of things. And I will."

You uncrossed your arms, kicking lightly at his foot so he would free some space for you on the couch. You couldn't help but smile upon noticing the drop of his infinity to let you hit him. Satoru put his legs closer together and you sat down on the space beside him with a deep sigh. "Still, that's a lot of responsibility to take on." you pointed out softly.

"I know, but I made a promise." He turned his to the side, chin dipping so his eyes could meet your over the rim of his sunglasses, "besides, I have you."

The effect of his eyes on you was instantaneous. Your guard dropping, face softening. "You do." you admitted quietly, but cleared your throat and averted his piercing gaze upon noticing what you had just said. "Fine. How are we doing this?"

"I knew you would come around!" He jumped up and grasped onto your hands to pull you up as well, eliciting a chuckle from you.

"What would you even do without me, Satoru?" the tease came naturally and so did his nonchalant answer:

"Wither and die, most likely." Satoru still held onto your hands, face turned to the door where the children hid behind. "Because I have no idea what to do now."

You rolled your eyes, pulling your hands free and lightly slapping his shoulder.

"I assume you're not gonna leave them to fend for themselves, so I'll go around check how's their pantry and other supplies to make a list for you to go shop while I watch them. Restock the house."

He listened attentively, nodding vigorously.

"Then we're gonna have to figure out a schedule to check on them regularly. They seemed to be doing alright alone so far so we know they don't need constant supervision, but someone should always be here to make sure they're fed and, well, taken care of in general." You listed as you went around the room, checking drawers and cabinets and nodding to yourself.

"God. You're brilliant! I don't know how I'll ever repay you for this."

You scoffed lightly, "I'm doing this for them just as much as I'm doing it for you, Gojo."

"Still. You're a real lifesaver."

"Stop with the flattery and write down what we need."

"Yes, mam!" He saluted you playfully.

。。+゜゜。。+゜゜。。+゜゜。。

You called out for Megumi and Tsumiki after sending Gojo to the store, making him promise not to splurge on sweets, reminding not everyone needed the mental stimuli he did, especially growing children who require a more balanced diet.

You talked to them, made sense of their routine and doings while getting to know them a bit better, finding out they had been living from the little money left by Tsumiki’s mother. It was a luck strike that Satoru got to them when he did considering those funds were on its way to end very soon.

They were both way too mature for their age and you silently vowed to yourself to change that. You would do your best to take care of everything else so they could just be kids. It's the least they deserved.

。。+゜゜。。+゜゜。。+゜゜。。

Things progressed naturally after that day. You bonded with Tsumiki over her love of books and Megumi over his passion for standing up for others.

They were good kids, never required much coddling. Tsumiki was particularly affectionate and, while he was more aloof, you could tell Megumi cared (especially about Tsumiki).

The Elders had acquiesced (not without a very through pushing intimidation from Gojo, of course) with letting you become the official "benefactors" of the Fushiguros.

You took on the role with earnestness, making sure to spend most of your free time with them. Cooking or ordering in, helping with their homework or just talking became routine in your hectic sorcerer lifestyle.

Surprisingly, Satoru also made an effort to be there, but due to his extremely busy schedule it wasn't always a possibility.

There were times neither of you would make it and it you would lead to you apologizing profusely into the phone receiver to one of the siblings (they were always extremely understanding). Other times, Shoko, Nanami or even Yaga would check in on them after your incessant begging.

Your favorite times though, rare as they were, happened when yours and Gojo's schedule were simultaneously unoccupied and allowed the both of you to go into the apartment. You could count in one hand the number of times that had happened in the year the two of you had been taking care of the Fushiguro siblings.

Satoru made a point to express his gratitude for your help whenever he could: every time he decided to spoil the kids with expensive gifts, he would get something for you as well. He would drop his infinity to receive your playful blows when he's being exceptionally annoying.

Oftentimes you found his gaze strayed to you or the soft smile on his lips directed at you and wondered if, perhaps, Satoru felt the same you did. If the longing of years wasn't as one sided as you had thought, but then he would make some inappropriate joke and the charged tension would fall. It was probably all in your head anyway.

He still kept some walls up though. Geto Suguru was a difficult subject for both of you. After his defect, Satoru seldom allowed himself to be vulnerable, not that he ever had before, but he become even more guarded afterwards. Still, you were there for him and he was there for you and that was enough.

。。+゜゜。。+゜゜。。+゜゜。。

"I'm hungry."

"Huh. I thought you were Tsumiki?"

Megumi groan was accompanied with an eye roll, as it usually was when Satoru made his jokes around the house, but Tsumiki giggles always brought a tiny smile to the corner of his lips. "You know what I meant, silly!"

"Was that a dad joke, Satoru?" you playfully hip bumped him as you made it from the counter he leaned on to the stove with the chopped vegetables.

"Ugh. I'm too young and handsome to be a father. It's not my fault their sense of humor is top tier."

"It's really not, Gojo." Megumi pointed out, his eyes never straying from the manga in his hands.

"What do you even know about that?"

"Hey! I'll let you know Megs can be really funny, you just don't get his subtle humor because your head is too big." You gestured around with a wooden spoon, your words bringing more giggles out of Tsumiki and a proud smile to your face.

"My head is perfectly proportionate to my body."

"Of course that's the only part you heard." You peeked over your shoulder finding Tsumiki standing on the other side of the counter. "Dinner is nearly done, Miki."

"Alright. I'll set the table!" the eager preteen rushed out.

"Thank you, dear!" you bellowed, attention turning back to stirring the pot of food.

"It smells great by the way." Satoru pointed out, slowly inching closer to you.

"You hungry too?"

"Kinda. I'm more excited for the dessert to be honest."

"Of course you are." You laughed.

"Hey, sweets?" Satoru was right next to you then, licking a swipe of frosting he had gathered on his finger as he passed by the dirty bowl.

"Huh?" You attentively followed his hypnotizing gesture from the corner of your eye, your arm stopping its movement momentarily as blood rushed up to your chest and neck.

"Do you ever regret it?" his question has your focus snapping back into place as you finally allowed yourself to look his way.

"Regret what?"

"You know... taking on the kids." Satoru tried to seem nonchalant, but you know him too well. There's clearly a motive to his sudden approach.

"You having second thoughts, Gojo?" Your tone was playful, but there was an edge of alert to it.

"No! no. I was just wondering. I don't want you to resent me for stealing up your youth or something like that."

The sudden understanding made you freeze. You quickly turned off the burner and fully turned his way.

"Stop with that shit. I could never resent you from bringing me into their lives." You moved towards the sink, washing your hands as you spoke, "I love these kids." turning off the faucet, you took one deep breath and shifted so you're standing face to face, "got it?"

"But don't you want your own family?"

His insistence had you exhaling exasperatedly, "this is my family, Satoru. Tsumiki, Megumi, Shoko, Nanami... you. It may not be conventional, but I wouldn't have it any other way."

You watched as his playful expression softened. Satoru removed the sunglasses covering his eyes and dropped them at the counter to his side, eyes never once leaving yours.

You felt yourself warm up instantaneously, hands clammy and lips dry, but still you tried to keep up the pretense of coolness with an airy jab, "what's that face for, dumbass?"

"That's just my face, sweets. I'm sure you've noticed how beautiful I am before." his voice had taken a lower cadency and for some reason he seemed to be closer than before, standing impossibly tall in front of you.

"Your ego really is something else." your smile faltered when he simply hummed in response, his unblinking eyes making your head swim and heart flutter dangerously, "stop staring!"

That seemed to snap Satoru out of it as he put one step of distance between you, gaze finally settling elsewhere. "Sorry. I know my eyes can be intimidating."

Your hand flew to his without thinking, masking your surprise when you immediately felt his skin instead of the barrier of infinity. You knew you had hit a nerve then and was quick to attempt remediating it.

"Not exactly the word I would use." You murmured, seeking his eyes again. Something flashed in them, something you had seem a few times before in passing when he looked at you, but it was always gone so quick you never really managed to read it properly.

"What word would you use?"

"If I wasn't afraid of providing too much fuel to your ego I would probably say something like beautiful. Entrancing. Maybe breathtaking." You listed, thumb caressing the back of his hand back and forth.

"You're making me blush, sweets." His grip tightened on your hand and he used it to pull you even closer, until your chest was nearly brushing his stomach, your neck straining to keep looking up at him.

"Yeah? Who would've thought... the strongest sorcerer reduced to a mess over a few measly compliments." your voice was almost a whisper, worried anything louder would burst this bubble you found yourselves in.

"Nah. Over you." he admitted with a loving smile, one you now recognize he only ever use with you.

"Satoru..."

"God. I love when you say my name."

"Noted." You licked your lips and watched as his stare followed the tiny movement, pupils blowing wider, nearly taking over the striking blue. "What is this, Satoru?"

He finally closed the distance between your bodies, bending down until your faces were only a breath away, hands finding your waist like they belonged tgere. Your heart sped up, seemingly ready to burst from your chest.

"Shoko mentioned overheard one guy from the Zenin clan noticed how good you were with kids when we took Megs there, said something crass about wanting to father your kids when he stopped by the school." his dry chuckle made you shake along with him, "I'm not gonna lie, I wanted to hollow purple his ass as soon as she said that. It made me realize I would end up losing you if I didn't man up and made a move soon. So this is me stopping being a pussy."

"I want to be with you. In any way you'll have me. If you will have me." Satoru admitted quietly. "Your boyfriend, maybe?"

"Just as long as I can be your girlfriend."

You were nearly blinded by his bright responding smile.

And then he bent further down to touch his lips to yours. He wanted to make it romantic, soft, his lips met yours in brief caresses once, twice... and then something snapped.

It's like all those years of yearning led to this moment and Satoru had to have you impossibly closer.

One of his hands held onto your jaw, long fingers touching the back of your neck, keeping your head in place and the other slowly explored you back, stopping at the stripe of skin where your shirt had ridden up when you threw your arms around his neck. His tongue pushed at the seam of your lips, seeking entrance and who were you to deny Gojo Satoru?

You let out a muffled moan, ready to move it forward when a voice shattered the moment:

"Ew! Stop sucking her face!"

"Shut up, Megumi! They're finally getting together, dummy!"

You broke apart in an instant, your head pending forward until your forehead rested on his chest, willing your blush to simmer down so you could face the kids.

"Yeah. Shut up, Megumi. I'm trying to score the girl of my dreams here, man!" Satoru joked, but you picked up on the slight quiver to his voice. Then, lower, just for you. "C'mon, sweets. Let's feed the little beasts and put them to sleep so we can finish this."

note: I think we're lacking more fluff pieces for the JJK fandom so I wanted to contribute to it somehow, but I still also want to try my hand at the more sexy bits so expect a part 2 made entirely of smut very soon ;)

[whokilledsamara]

I saw you write for homicipher! Can I request some Mr Silvair Headcanons? I barely see content of him and I'm hungry 😭💕 I will give you my heart as a sacrifice 🏃🏻‍♀️💨

MR. SILVAIR HC {N/SFW}

a Mr. Silvair hc list. {an: hand over that heart!!! >:3}

warnings! : sadism, orgasm denial, smut, blood play, Mr. Silvair is an extreme dom, marking, hair pulling, semi cuckhold, experimenting, afab and amad genitalia described

{an : this isnt bad per se, BUT he is very sadistic and is in denial of his love for you}

SFW HC "relationship" hc

unfortunately, a relationship with Mr. Silvair will be difficult to maintain.

he is in HEAVY denial that he loves you, and claims it is just experimental for "science", though inside he cant deny that you make him feel a certain way.

in his eyes, if Mr. Chopped likes you, then he likes you. simple.

wont push your boundaries, so tell him if you dont want him to do something specific when experimenting.

he will rarely let you touch him, but at no times will he allow you to touch his "eye" bandages. those are off limits to anyone.

doesnt understand "love" or most human reactions, so dont expect him to be all lovey dovey with you.

very work influenced man. will be nose deep in books.

doesnt hold grudges at all. so if you upset him a simple apology will fix it. even if there is no apology, it wont affect him.

he is relatively friendly with the others, but mainly close to Mr. Chopped.

doesnt sleep, so sometimes will watch you sleep. for "experiments" of course

i swear this man doesnt know how to button his shirt.. so you will have to be used to that.

he really likes your eyes. he has a weird fascination with the colors.

surprisingly possessive. usually he wouldnt care, but he does tense up when someone else touches you.

he does make it known that he is attracted to you, but tries to exclude the word "love"

NSFW HC sexy time..

he knows every spot, being a doctor and all, therefore he doesnt need much teaching. does enjoy learning things he already knows though for some reason.

adores your body. he doesnt express much emotion in general, but if you are lucky he will show a little bit over your body during sex.

makes little to no noise during the act, likes watching your expressions.

will absolutely let Mr. Chopped watch. for some reason.. only as long as you are comfortable with it of course.

respects boundaries, so please respect his.

he makes sure to keep your hands tied or something at all times. will rarely let them be free.

he doesnt give head often, but will on certain occasions. usually doesnt let you give him a blowjob, so that is very rare from him.

will laugh as he edges you. you would have to beg for him to let you cum, and even then he might not. likes to see you cry over him.

if on the rare occasion that your hands arent tied, he will let you pull his hair. he quite enjoys it actually.

if, and only if you allow him, he will use his scalpel to make light cuts along your body so he can lick the blood.

definitely the kind of guy to fuck you during your period if you menstruate. he gets down like that

{an : i love him sm, im definitely going to make a fic for him. send in requests!}

{ made by @whokilledsamara }

[quodo-brainrot]

The gravity of this statement becomes so much more immense when you consider two very prominent aspects of Odo's personality:

He's an introvert

One of the defining traits of his entire species is the fact that they're obsessed with order and control

This need for order almost certainly extends to his daily routine. A routine that he MODIFIES, EVERY DAY, just for the sake of pestering Quark. There are one of two scenarios happening here:

SCENARIO 1

Odo goes about all the rest of his daily tasks, and occasionally decides that he feels like it might be a good time to stop by Quark's, just for the hell of it. He defers his current task for later.

SCENARIO 2

Odo allocates several blocks of free time on his schedule every day, with the express purpose of randomly turning some of them into Quark Pestering Sessions.

Either one of these scenarios is insane.

A lot of us here are introverted and on the spectrum, so a lot of us can identify with Odo. So tell me... what would it take for you to do this?

What would it take for you to engage in a minimum of three planned disruptions to your routine,

every single day,

just to go to the noisiest, most chaotic part of the station,

to bicker with an extrovert?

I wouldn't even do this with my best friend, let alone my 'worst enemy!'

I know that we all already know that Odo is obsessed with Quark, but I feel like you can't understand just how bone-deep that obsession runs until you've really stopped to think about the mental/emotional load this behavior would incur.

Every single day, for the better part of a decade, Odo is actively fighting every social and environmental preference he has just so he can spend time with Quark.

In the real world, we'd consider this to be a frighteningly extreme case of pathological obsession, but on Known Trashfire Deep Space Nine, everyone is just like 'oh yeah, it's fine, we let him do that for enrichment!'

"I usually go to Quark's three or four times at random intervals just to let him know I'm thinking about him"

Odo are you hearing yourself

[chibinasuu]

Hi, I was wondering if you could do Luffy, Zoro, and Sanji (separately) X Reader, and it's of them already in a relationship, and kind of based on the trend on TikTok, Reader calls them "Buddy" to see their reaction?

hi!! sorry this took so long, i just returned from a trip and didn’t have much time to write at all last week. thanks for the request, this was so fun to write! this was my first time writing short drabbles like this, but i hope i captured the boys’ reactions well :)

“Buddy” | Monster Trio x Reader

Pairings: Luffy, Zoro, Sanji x Reader (separate)  Tags: sfw, fluff, established relationship, GN but written with F!Reader in mind, no use of y/n

Sanji

The lid to the peanut butter jar was exceptionally tight that morning. 

You glanced at Sanji, who was trying and failing to prevent his lips from turning up into a mischievous smirk. You rolled your eyes as a small huff escaped your mouth.

Did he seriously think you wouldn’t catch on to his little schemes? You had long been aware that he’d sometimes purposefully tighten the lids to all of the jars in the kitchen just so you would ask him for help. 

After struggling for a good few seconds, you finally relented and passed the jar to him, “Open this for me, please?”

Sanji beamed at you, “Why, of course, dearest! With pleasure.” 

He popped the lid open with ease and handed the jar back to you.

You took it gratefully but couldn’t resist the temptation of getting back at him in some way. So, as you walked away, you patted his shoulder and said lightly, “Thanks, buddy!”

You instantly regretted it when you saw Sanji’s crestfallen expression, “...Buddy?”

He looked like he was close to tears as he searched your face, “A-are you mad at me? Is this about the jars? I promise I won't do it aga–” 

His small voice broke you and you immediately rushed back to him, “Oh sweetheart, no, I’m just joking!” 

You planted a kiss on his cheek, “I’m sorry, honey.” You moved your lips to his other cheek, “Baby.” To his forehead, “Darling.”

He let out a relieved sigh at the return of your usual repertoire of nicknames, before squishing your cheeks in between his hands, “Don’t ever call me buddy again. Please.” 

You chuckled, “Yes, my love.” 

He nodded, satisfied at your answer, before leaning in and melding his lips to yours in the sweetest kiss.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Zoro

“Hey, can you pass me the towel?” 

You were sitting on the bench of the crow’s nest, quietly reading your book as Zoro spent hours after hours working out. This was the first instance that he had spoken to you in all that time, which was no surprise, really. You knew that he took his workout very seriously.

But, you couldn’t deny that it still annoyed you to no end that he had not glanced even once in your direction this whole time, despite this being one of the rare moments that the two of you could spend alone onboard this rowdy ship. 

“Sure.” You reached for the towel beside you and tossed it in his direction, “Here you go, buddy!”

“Thank–” Zoro started to reply before he registered your words. He looked at you, his face contorted in what you could only describe as disgust, “Ha?!”

You smirked at how readily he took your bait, watching him closely as he wiped off his sweat and stalked toward you. He placed his hands on the bench on either side of you, caging you in as he bent forward to bring his face close to yours, “What did you just call me?”

“What, you don't like my new nickname for you, buddy?” You taunted, fully realizing that this would piss him off even further.

“Oh, am I your buddy, now?” He pressed his body even closer to yours, an intense look in his eyes as he said, “Well, would a buddy do this, then?” 

Your heart danced in victory when his lips finally captured yours in a hungry kiss, and you wrapped your arms around his neck to pull him down onto the bench.

Maybe you should rile him up more often.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Luffy

Luffy was sitting at his usual spot at the figurehead when you approached him. 

The conversation you had with Nami earlier still plagued your mind. She had told you that men hated to be called “buddy” by their significant other, but you were pretty sure that Luffy wouldn’t mind at all. He had liked all of the nicknames you gave him so far, no matter how ridiculous they were. She laughed and disagreed, telling you that Luffy was a man after all, and there was no way he would not be affected in some way. 

So, that’s how you ended up climbing the stairs to the figurehead, on your way to test Nami’s theory. 

“Hey, buddy!” You called out to Luffy.

His head tilted in confusion as he turned to face you, before replying uncertainly, “Hey to you too… buddy.”

Well, how the table had turned. You didn’t expect him to call you "buddy” back. And you didn’t like it. At all. 

“Ugh.” You groaned as you sat down beside him, “Forget that. Please don’t call me buddy.” 

He pouted, “Hey, you said it first!” 

You chuckled and caressed his cheek, your thumb lightly grazing over his scar, “My bad, turned out I don’t like it when you called me that.” 

“Well, I don’t like it either.” He shrugged as he admitted, “It made me feel like I was just your friend. And I’m not… right?” 

So Nami was right. It did affect him.

“You’re right, I’m sorry." You smiled, somehow filled with a strange satisfaction, as you pulled him in for a quick kiss, "You're definitely more than just my buddy, Lu.”

You kept his face close to yours as you said, “I promise I won’t call you buddy ever again if you promise not to call me buddy too.”

Luffy laughed before closing the gap between you again, “Deal!”

[hannieehaee]

since you did the reaction of their s/o being obsessed with their butt, can you do them being obsessed with their s/o butt?

them being obsessed with their s/o's butt

content: established relationship implied, touchiness, maybe a little mature(?), fluff, etc.

wc: 536

a/n: sorry i took so long with this!!

masterlist

seungcheol -

as someone with a phenomenal butt, he'll have a great eye for appreciating a fellow great butt. he'll grab at your butt instead of your waist/hips. his hands just kind of gravitate there without realizing. will also catch himself staring more often than not.

jeonghan -

annoying as shit about it. will use your butt like a fidget toy and grab at it shamelessly instead of his usual comfort objects (his sword, fork, etc).

joshua -

he'll be cheeky about it but will usually keep it private as to not embarrass you. doesn't mind grabbing it or patting at it jokingly around close friends though.

jun -

whines and complains at you if you ever call him out on his infatuation with your butt. argues that its your fault and gets all shy about it. will still keep his hands as close to it as possible any time he can.

soonyoung -

doesnt even think about it before grabbing your butt. it's just second nature to him by now. he'll even do it in the most awkward circumstances possible and not realize.

wonwoo -

he won't outwardly let you know how much he likes your butt, but he'll let you know through his actions. he'll stare so much, it's impossible for you to not notice. his hands will often fall from your waist to your butt without so much as a comment.

jihoon -

kind of shy about how infatuated by your butt he is. he'll blush when he catches himself staring at you when you bend over or when you're wearing tight pants. he'll be less shy when it's just the two of you, grumbling and murmuring at you while he keeps his hands on it.

seokmin -

what do i even say about him. he'll grab it, slap it, squeeze it, you name it. it won't even be in a sexual way, he just clearly really likes butts. will encourage you to return his affections to his own butt.

mingyu -

his hands just kind of fall there sometimes. he can't really explain it to you nor to himself. he'll get sheepish if he gets called out for grabbing at you or staring while in public, causing him to blush or whine, but he'll still do it.

minghao -

he's a gentleman so he won't be too obvious about his infatuation with your butt. he loves your body overall and constantly lets you know, but he won't wanna be inappropriate in public. he'll save most of his touches and compliments for private.

seungkwan -

he usually gets shy when his members comment on his butt, so he won't want to do the same to you. however! he won't be able to control his eyes whenever you turned around or bent over. he'd also be very handsy in private.

vernon -

super casual about it. his hands are on there more often than not and he doesn't really think much of it. very nonchalant but also very expressive about enjoying your butt.

chan -

he just kind of short-circuits any time you wear something that accentuates your butt. his eyes are glued to that part of your body at all times, but he'll avoid getting touchy in public, knowing he'll wanna escalate it too quickly.

[lucrezianoin]

Rating all the romances in Veilguard

For no reason that I watched them (here)/played them all. (I played Taash, Emmrich both paths, Davrin, and all the romances up till the commitment scene)

All the romances (with few exceptions) seem to follow the same pattern of: about three or four flirting moments, a missed kiss scene where you non-commit to the romance, a commitment to the romance scene and a dinner/date. All these scenes are also friendship ones and the romance extends them (with various levels of extension). Then the romance has three unique scenes: a pre-Ghilan'nain chat, the post-Fade sex scene, a final chat before the end and that is it.

I am gonna put some of these scenes in preference order! What I look for in a scene is:

If it is a friendship scene: how much the romance scene adds;

The scene tells me something new about the characters;

How well the scene sets up the tone of the romance (especially starting scenes);

Just how much I liked the scene! the tone, the movements, other added things

Every link is the scene from the same youtube channel I linked before, at the correct timestamp.

EDIT: changed the rating for Neve, she is now my second fav (I am replaying it and realized I missed something from her commitment scene)

TL TR: My favorite romances in order:

Davrin: his romance ties very well with his character development and quest. Weisshaupt and his relationship with death being confronted with losing his home, trying to stay casual and then getting attached against his own will, and then choosing a new path (a road less travelled, as he says) which also ties with the relationship with him and his Dalish clan. It is also the only romance that allows the player to decide what comes after for Rook.

Neve: I felt like her romance had its own sub-plot that I did not feel was 100% reflected in her quests (given she shows attachment to other characters and things), but there is a lot of content and like for Emmrich it all fits well in the tone of Neve's character and quests at least: it really makes you feel like you are in a detective story, romancing that one character who has a tons of protective walls around her heart. The banter and flirting was my favorite, with a lot of small back-and-forth, that I think do the heavy lifting.

Emmrich: this romance is a bit less involved with the main plot, but I thought it felt very cohesive. It is a more classical romance which sees Emmrich surprised to be the subject of Rook's flirting, to then taking them both in a very classic path of dating and breakfasts in bed. It also has a lot more content given it has technically two paths, and fits well with the whimsical sometimes humorous tone of Emmrich but also his relationship with death (fear).

Taash: Their romance is probably the easiest and fastest to get. I think the content is a bit less compared to other romances, but their inability to fully express their attachment (especially in the context of their mom's death) was a nice touch. I wish the story had integrated their personal quest (what happened to their mother) a bit more at the end, given we have a parallel of Taash not being able to save her vs being able to get Rook back.

Harding: I think her romance actually makes her character much more compelling to me. We see her dealing with her powers a bit more, and in the final scene it is all pulled together with this dialogue about how she wished the world could stay simple, but closing your eyes against the change does not mean the change is not happening. Still, I feel like she has the least amount of scenes (but my favorite romance commitment scene) especially if she dies then her romance feels absolutely incomplete. In the case of Davrin, his death makes his previous scenes much more tragic instead.

Bellara: I actually really like Bellara's romance, I just feel like if I try to look at it objectively it seems a bit all over the place. It starts very sweet and awkward, but it mainly relegates Rook in the role of someone who needs to reassure Bellara a lot, especially about not being liked. I am also very annoyed by the two mentions of "Rook makes Bellara calmer". As far as I know Bellara is supposed to have adhd, and as someone who has adhd... no, love does not "cure" you. Or make you feel calmer.

Lucanis: I am so sorry for all the Lucanis fans. I have no idea what happened here. I loved the final scene, but the rest of his romance feels strangely directionless. I admit I did not believe it could be so much short in content compared to the other romances but after playing half of it and watching the rest - it kind does. It has some nice extra banter and comments (ex. a lot of supporting Lucanis in battle), but I am also unsure what this romance is even about. His personal quest is about starting to live again and accepting Spite, but his romance seems a mix of guilt for his failure and deflections. The only thing I can come up with is that the writers were trying to convey a Lucanis who was not ready for a romance but still wanted it nonetheless?

The almost kiss:

Bellara: This one has no almost kiss, but I loved the scene nonetheless. The friendship scene is adorable (I love characters who write stories!), and the romance part is quite extended with Bellara giving us new information about her: she never really has been in a long relationship, about her ex from the Veil Jumper, and we also see her trying to act all suave and smooth and almost falling from the desk, which was adorable and sets up the awkwardness and inexperience of the romance.

Davrin: The almost kiss is interrupted by Assan, which makes perfect sense giving the previous interruptions. It also reinfornces the fact that Davrin is direct, and it tell us that there is a correlation with him chasing his romance/being direct and how close to death Grey Wardens are. It sets up an almost casual/overly-flirting and seducing tone to the romance instead of the more romantic one found in others. The scene also makes the friendship version 100% better and make it much more sense.

Neve: The friendship scene is quite cute, but after seeing the romance one I feel like the whole scene is a setup for the romance. Most of it is in the romance version, with a lot of characters moving through the room (checking the wisp, sitting on the desk, almost kissing). It also tells us a bit about Neve: she is attracted to Rook, but very hesitant to start a relationship, almost scared, and that the theme of the romance is this almost magnetic attraction that she cannot resist to. Hilarious also because of Rook looking at the ceiling in frustration when the kiss doesn't happen.

Taash: I am not a fan of the growls, but the movement, the hilarity of Taash standing up saying "yes so..." and pushing Rook against the mirror - perfect. The friendship scene also tells us something on its own and the two takes a different paths. We also find out that Taash is extremely direct, they are very open about sex, and take initiative very quickly when needed. Plus their sense of smell is very developed and connected with the breathing-fire thing. The interruption is probably my favorite here, with Taash and Rook sharing an amused glance, it builds comraderie!

Harding: The scene sets up Harding's main plot (her new powers) in the romance, which will then continue in the actual commitment scene. The scene overall tells us that Harding sometimes loses control of her lyrium while touching people, and that she is a bit awkward but also not too easily embarassed (like Bellara is). In general it is quite sweet.

Emmrich: I usually love Emmrich scenes and this is probably my list favorite in his romance. The dialogue is beautiful and elegant as always, and we find out that Emmrich romance will follow more traditional and romantic paths. We do not learn much about Emmrich himself, a part from the fact that he is interested in the romance. I also am a bit confused by the show of magic, I suppose it is seduction but what does it mean... it escapes me. I guess, another thing we learn is that Emmrich likes to take the seduction into his hands, which sets the tone for the romance.

Lucanis: the first part of this scene is Spite trying to run away. Then the scene feels like it goes from zero to one hundred very quickly, with Lucanis and Rook almost kissing, then bam, Lucanis needs to clear his head - I know it is Spite but it felt a bit strange. I am unsure what the scene is trying to tell me, we already knew Spite is a problem and often takes over/stops Lucanis from doing things (ex. starting scene by the fireplace).

Romance confirmation/commitment:

Harding: the scene expands a lot on the friendship version, so much that I almost forgot I even played the friendship version of it. We also have the continuation of Harding's touching problem, and not only it is hilarious (Harding backing away and being shocked Rook would still kiss her), but also tells us something about Rook themselves (that they are a bit of a reckless fool). The scene happening in public with all the other npcs being like "wtf", hilarious.

Davrin: The scene adds a little bit from the friendship one, with the most schoolgirl kiss in the game (which is adorable), the return of the "hunting" metaphor, and Davrin looking at Rook when he talks about Assan having "the heart of a halla". It all ties in the fact that the scene is a way to draw a parallel between Davrin and Assan - it works well given it is a romance scene and one of the parallels is about both of them finding a new path and having "the heart of a Halla". There is also a small additional banter when you go back to Eldrin, where Rook can tell Davrin "you have me too now".

Neve: So I love this scene (skipping rocks, thinking about her case), it feels very detective-like in a dark foggy city, chasing leads. EDIT: I previously put this down at n5 but I am replaying Neve romance and realized there is so much more. Not only Neve throws herself at you (for a kiss), plus a fumbled kiss, but you also get a very cute banter about "kissing a girl/kissing neve gallus" while you chase for leads. Overall, while the majority of the scene is the friendship version, the romance version changes it quite a bit.

Taash: the scene was great before the romance one, I loved seeing Taash getting to the realization and decision about using they/them. But it also felt a bit like zero to one hundred, with only a few flirtings before (pretty sure only two? or three?). But the kiss? that was the best kiss in the game for me, with Taash being like "okay bye". It follows the general theme of Taash being a bit uncomfortable to face their own feelings, and very direct.

Emmrich: one of my favorite scenes in the friendship version. To see an older than usual character remembering their parents, talking with them and introducing them their new partner is pretty rare. The rest of the scene was quite classical seduction from Emmrich, he really feels like the character who is doing the courting and the scene in general looks quite beautiful. Beautiful kiss too. The addition from the friendship version is the extra seduction with magic.

Lucanis: Zero points for payeya. The rest of the scene is very sweet, I loved that Lucanis remembers Rook's drink and that a previous choice returns in play, but the scene is so short and it seems to mainly revolve around Lucanis apologizing. It tells us that Lucanis remembers, and that probably his romantic side is more acts of service than words, but it also feels a bit like Rook is romancing themselves and jumping to conclusions because Lucanis is giving very little.

Bellara: the commitment scene was so small, and so Cyrian focused I should probably not even put it here.

Dates/dinners:

Emmrich: This is a full on date that follows the Emmrich's path of "classically romancing Rook". We have the dinner, special Mourn Watcher dialogue about the skeletons raised to cook, a kiss, and you can also exchange questions - you can tell Emmrich you are a virgin too haha - plus, Emmrich expresses worry for Rook and how much work he is taking on, which is always nice to see given sometimes Rook feels excluded in the game. The dialogue also remembers previous choices, with different options if you expressed distaste for necromancy.

Neve (scene 1) (scene 2): She has technically two, one where you can meet with Rana or Elek, and then the initial one where she takes you to eat fried fish, so before the start of the romance. Both scenes? Amazing. I absolutely love them, especially the tour of Dock Town and eating fried fish with her while looking at the sea. They felt perfectly in tone of a noir-detective romance. In the first scene we get Neve's main romance theme (the tables always turn) and feels (banter, back and forth) and in the playing cards scene we return to the back and forth banter that is characteristic of the Neve romance.

Davrin: This was mainly about Davrin being asked to take a break and him worrying about Rook working too much, which is always nice to hear! I was a bit disappointed that so much of the date ended up being about Assan and Rook not being able to do mushrooms without tripping, but the small bits of Davrin being disappointed he could not take Rook's mind off work for an afternoon felt strangely in line with Davrin's more seduction-like romance (which seems to be mainly on the casual side of things) and his attempt to make this work.

Taash: I loved Taash's mother immediately zeroing in on Rook being their partner, but sadly there is not really a romance scene. The scene is very similar to the friendship one, and it doesn't tell us anything more about the romance itself or Taash.

Lucanis: I am confused by this scene. It seems much more about Lucanis and Spite than Lucanis and Rook and Lucanis. The part taht is about Rook and Lucanis is very very short, and mainly a lovingly gazing Lucanis and Rook with not a lot of dialogue.

Bellara and Harding seems to have no date/dinner scene. Harding has a longer post Ghilan'nain scene, and Bellara has a lot of small scenes around here and there.

The fight before the fight

Davrin: similar to Taash but softer. This is also when you find out a lot about Davrin here - mainly how he made sure to never get attached - and more about his relationship with death that turns into him wanting to finally think about a future without death. I thought this scene added a lot to his character, and pulled together his whole plot arc too (the non romance one, so his attachment to Assan, his relationship with death, Weisshaupt and his new home). It also felt realistic and hopeful bre-battle, and it is even more devastating in the light of the Harding vs Davrin death choice.

Neve: the voice acting in this one is just stellar. It is also very detective-feels like a noir old movie with forbbiden romance. It shows how important it is for Neve to keep everything under control. Her voice breaking out at the end - amazing, one of my favorite lines by Neve. This does not fully connect with her arc, like Davrin's did, but it is the breaking of her walls scene.

Emmrich (Lich) (link to my twitter): As much as I love saving Manfred, I prefer this scene with Lich Emmrich and how much you can play a Rook that is absolutely extra in love and refuses to listen to what Emmrich is saying. And it is nice to have a scene where a companion actually suggests for the protagonist to not go into battle. It ties with Emmrich's fear of death, and accepting that people around him will always die now that he is a Lich. I was just a bit sad that he clearly did not fully make peace with that before his transformation, given that was one of the requirements.

Taash: classic angst and tsundere, loved that Taash refuses to admit their feelings to avoid getting hurt. This is similar to Neve and Davrin's scene, but I think it tells us less about Taash than Davrin's, and the scene is much shorter than Neve's. It feels also a bit more in line with Taash's character here given what happened to Taash's mother, but I wonder if you can still get this scene if you do not complete Taash's quests... I suspect you might, which makes the scene in that case a bit out of place in my opinion.

Emmrich (non Lich): Look, I LOVE this scene, and I love seeing Emmrich talk about their age difference, but I thought it felt a bit random placed as a pre-battle fight. I know this is about Emmrich confronting his own mortality again, and this is the main theme, Emmrich realizing he is fully in love and not ready at the idea of leaving Rook alone. I love Rook's answers, but I would have loved to expand on this way before (especially given that one of the option is Emmrich implying that Rook does not know what they want because they are too young "I know what I am getting into" / "at your age?").

Lucanis: I really enjoyed this more than I thought I would, but mainly the first part. Lucanis feeling the responsibility of the strike to protect Rook after he failed once. It ties well into his arc, being responsible of this big job, and Rook tried to show him that they are in this together. Except that then the scene kind of derailed, in my opinion with extra Lucanis' deflection. Maybe I do not fully understand Lucanis' romance and character, but the scene goes from: Lucanis' guilt and fear, "I only know death", I am not alone I have Spite, I will kill to protect you, don't promise you will survive. I am unusure what is Lucanis romance here trying to tell me, I wish they had focused on his guilt/weight of protecting Rook more.

Bellara: too sweet for my taste. The scene does not have a fight, but we get Bellara being honest with her feelings, and saying she feels calmer with Rook (which I hate, given she is supposed to have adhd if I understand correctly, and as someone with adhd no amount of romance is gonna make me feel calmer, medicate me). It also re-iterates that Bellara feels bad about who she is, and Rook makes her feel better. The scene does not seem to tell me anything new about Bellara or the romance itself.

Harding: This feels very generic. It is a "what if things go wrong", which makes sense for a scene before the big fight. It is so short, and a missed opportunity to give us a bit more given that Harding can literally die in the next mission. The point of the scene is "I am worried", Rook "It's okay we have us", Harding: "Alright".

Final romance scene:

Davrin: Look, the start makes me a bit embarassed, the shirts vanishing? the fact that Rook in the fade is barely mentioned, how Rook's size does not seem to matter at all, the Rook's breathless moaning - some of the dialogue is a bit strange, if you don't play the joke-y Rook/direct Rook. But it is also the only scene where the characters talk about their future and that to me feels like a conclusion to the romance. I was actually surprised when I got to all the other romances and I did not see the final choice of "what will you do with your LI" like in Davrin's scene. We have a Davrin who is finally living without thinking of death, we have a new choice that is then reflected in the final chat later, Rook and Davrin organize their future together (the road less travelled being one of them, which Davrin says "it is how I found you" and really summarizes Davrin's whole story with the team, Rook and Assan, but also his past with his Dalish clan).

Lucanis: I really liked this scene, both the start of it with Lucanis feeling relieved and the whole "are you falling asleep", and Lucanis asking for Rook to talk to him. It was very sweet without being too mushy, even if it felt pretty short. The scene pulls together Lucanis' attachment, showing how much he learnt to care for Rook. I am still unsure how this pulls together his whole romance (or his fight scene pre battle) more than "Lucanis trusts Rook and now Rook is part of his new life", but it is still worth it for the tenderness. And the whole kneeling part was nice, giving the whole "Dellamorte never kneel".

Taash: picking up Rook is an A+, I admit I was not a fan of the growls, but the whole discussion of their romance? lovely, even if it was pretty short. This is mainly about Taash and Rook defining their relationship, after Taash's fear of losing Rook. They are ready to be honest about their feelings, which is a nice conclusion, but I wish it had tied a bit more into what happened with Taash's quest (their mother's death mainly, especially given that their fight scene was about the risk of losing someone they love).

Neve: this is another direct continuation of the pre-Ghilan'nain scene, where Neve actually cries and we see how relieved she is. Her pushing Rook on the couch and closing the door with magic? Great, stellar. The rest of the scene is mainly about Neve finding the courage to say I love you and living day by day. It is the conclusion of her arc within the romance (tearing down her walls until she can finally admit she fell for Rook). Neve "I won't life like we are not getting one (an after)" is very sweet.

Emmrich: Lich and non-Lich are pretty similar, they are both mainly focused on Emmrich making sure there is no enchantment on Rook, then a kiss and a very humorous cute scene after they bang in a coffin. It did not add any new information to the romance, but it was still sweet, and different (given they are not in Rook's room). I just wished it had tied a bit more into their pre battle fight, or had talked a bit about their future.

Harding: I think she might have the longer scene, mainly because she does not have a lot of scenes before? I found it pretty interesting because she actually suspects for a bit that Rook is a spirit and she remembers Cole. The rest of the scene was a bit too mushy and sweet for me, and more about Harding herself than the romance. It helps define her character as someone who has gone through some really world-shattering revelations, which I think makes her a bit more compelling vs her without the romance.

Blighted Bellara coming back: I think this works a bit better than Neve's version, because Bellara and Rook generally have a more open romance. They already kind of accepted each other's feelings before, even if Bellara never said "i love you". In this scene she is trying to finally say it. It also adds a bit more about Bellara's ordeal with the blight ("you found me and saved me").

Bellara: I feel so bad for putting most of Bellara scenes at the end of each list. The final scene was very cute, very humorous for the first part. Unfortunately it felt a bit repetitive. It was clear Bellara wanted to say "I love you", through a lot of moments in the scenes and she could not say it. The whole scene seems to be about Bellara being open with her feelings and wanting to take a moment for her and Rook vs worrying about everything, unfortunately I cannot help but be annoyed at the whole "Rook makes Bellara calmer" feels I got from it. On the other hand, she is the only one who wonders if she was a regret in the fade regret prison, which I really enjoyed.

Blighted Neve coming back: The scene is the shorter version of Neve's scene, and the reverse of it (Rook is the one worried and waiting for Neve to come back). It feels a bit empty given the ordeal, and given that this happens after the game actually ends. I did not play this, but from what I see it has no "I love you" after and it ends with neve closing the door and it 100% (at least for me) makes Neve's romance feels strangely unfinished because so much of the previous scenes in it were about Neve not being able to not feel fear about losing Rook.

[virgosimulator]

My boyfriend shared this post with me and as an Accessibility Studies Minor (literally was so niche and new the major didn't exist until after I graduated), I just have to respond. (and I am so excited to do so!)

I’m going to have to play this game, even if it's not specifically about disability, because it’s so exciting to see someone actually doing disability theory work. I know disability scholars are out there, but our community is fractured and so pushed underground it's very hard to connect. I so often only see opinions about disability written exactly as OP says, black or white. Good guy vs Bad guy. And most often by people who do not identify as disabled, or are disabled and are only drawing on personal experience (which is great, but there's much more to consider!)

I am most passionate about Universal Design which is a field of study that…almost doesn’t exist it’s so niche, despite the fact that it concerns itself with everyone. I wanted to move across the country (America) to join the only Universal Design lab in the world (general, NOT UD for Education, which there is a lot for), originally created and run by the author of the Universal Design manual, Ronald L. Mace (he died 1988). Unfortunately, it had shut down just a few years before I even encountered the phrase "Universal Design." (I just googled it but couldn't find a date, I believe it closed in 2010 but I don't know that for sure.)

In any case, one of the core tenants of Universal Design, the core issue it seeks to resolve, is that all people have conflicting needs. In class we often talked about this in terms of one type of disability vs another (sensory vs mobility, for example), but really it’s ability vs ability. Sidewalk safety is a good example as curb cuts (where sidewalks slope downward to meet with the road usually between pedestrian intersections) are 100% necessary for people using wheelchairs, however they can be challenging for people walking on foot who have low mobility. They can also be dangerous for blind persons. Some added accomadations have been a bumpy texture to let blind people know by touch that the sidewalk is sloping, bright caution yellow paint for people with low vision. However, if these curb cuts aren’t maintained properly, especially with added bumpy textures, something could happen like when I was in highschool a girl flipped her motorized wheelchair onto herself because the curb cut was too steep and the road. Instead of being a benefit to everyone, it probably killed her and her accident could have caused a corresponding car accident.

And, by nature of expressing how disability (and some accomodations) can be bad for everyone, OP is also alluding to the truth that accessibility options have the potential to help everyone. You do not need to be “unable to work” to have a different set of abilities and needs from another person. Trying to design a universally accessible world is actually limited by thinking of it in terms of “disability.”

I didn't have a point to this really, I was just so excited to share some of my education with people who might actually be interested. Oh, some might be happy to hear it does appear there is a non profit called RL Mace Universal Design Institute which is keeping his work alive, thank goodness. Perhaps I will reach out and see if they have any education or research opportunities.

something I don’t get about the disability metaphor is that for eureka monsters obviously it harms another person to eat them. the help a disabled person needs doesn’t actively harm or kill another person. Maybe it’s a difference in perspectives that cannot be resolved

(What I’m about to write could potentially sound very fucked up at first so I’m going to need to trust everyone to read the whole thing before forming an opinion.)

Also this message and response references these two posts.

Eureka’s stance on disabled people is that they (including myself writing this) are, or at least can often be, burdens.

Disabled people often require more resources to live than they are able to “give back,” which, in our capitalist and artificial-scarcity-based economy, is just about the worst thing a person can do.

Anti-ableism sentiment often focuses on the idea that “disabled people aren’t burdens, that they’re just as good and capable as everyone else,” but if they were, they wouldn’t be “disabled” would they? When you say stuff like that, you’re conceding that a person’s worth is determined by how capable they are at doing work, and then having to bend over backwards to justify thinking that a person without arms is just as valuable as a person with arms. Eureka is asking you to decouple a person’s value from how much net resources they can produce.

Often times also, the resources that real disabled people consume are human resources, and those human resources are very much capable of suffering for it. Nurses are overworked, around-the-clock care is absolutely physically and mentally exhausting, people who have to care for their elderly or otherwise disabled relatives on top of their regular jobs don’t get to have social lives or hobbies, etc.

To this end, we wrote the monsters in Eureka to be unquestionably people who “cause damage” to society by literally eating up human resources, because they have to to live, they have no other choice unless they want to just die. Your friend is gone from your life because he has to spend all his free time caring for his comatose wife after a freak car accident. Your friend is gone from your life because a vampire randomly ate him. Providing a metaphor isn't all the monsters are doing, they just work well through that lens.

And then Eureka forces you to look at these people as people, and make up your mind as to whether they have value and a right to prologue their own existence. We can’t force you to agree that they do, but if you think they don’t, then you’ll have to make that argument looking at an intelligent person with a life rather than a pure hypothetical or statistics on a chart.

There are some monsters in Eureka where, if the economy or societal structures were changed, they would stop being such severe drains on resources and could exist harmlessly within society, and there are some monsters where no imaginable amount of societal change would solve the problems they cause. This is true of disabled people IRL as well. Some of them would require no further assistance with living if certain things about society changed, and others would still require a massive amount of human resources.

And even when it’s not necessarily human resources, the extra resources that disabled people need also cause huge energy expenditure and create huge amounts of plastic waste, which are things that contribute to global warming and pollution, which do have significant harmful effects on everyone’s lives. Despite this, they are still “worth it” to keep around.

As for actively causing harm, that happens too. I randomly scrolled past this post after we got this message and saved it so I could link it here.

This person and their family had to cause a big stink in a restaurant just to get an accommodation that they needed, and to us reading it from their perspective, we’re obviously on their side, but I can assure you that the overworked staff at that restaurant didn’t see it that way. They saw the disabled person as an aggressive Karen whom they would never in a million years want to have to provide customer service to. The disabled person & family had to get aggressive, and ruin the staff’s day, to get what they needed. That’s actively causing harm - harm we all agreed was justified to cause - but harm nonetheless.

Plastic straws aren’t that big of a deal for global pollution, but even if they were, the point is that this person still would have needed a straw. It doesn’t line up one-to-one, because metaphors rarely do, but a vampire asking if they can drink someone’s blood, and being told No, may find themselves in much the same position. (And if you bring up that some people find vampires really sexy, you’re missing the point. “I would give them a straw if they had sex with me.” is not actually a great thing to announce about yourself.)

I can also come up with an example from my own life. I personally am very sensitive to noise and noise pollution. If there’s music playing at a public space, I usually can’t handle it. (Earplugs don’t work for other reasons I won’t get into - plus, if I just deafen myself to all sound, how can I socialize with anyone in this public space?)

If I want to exist in this space, I will have to actively cause harm to everyone there, or else stop existing in that space. I will have to go up to whoever is responsible and ask them to turn off the music, actively taking it away from everyone else who was enjoying it. I have to take action to ruin their good time if I want to exist in that space at all, and they might, very understandably, be pissed off at me for doing that. Because, like I said in this other post, the people that monsters eat do have a right to prevent themselves from being eaten by monsters. We aren't proposing that the solution is everyone has to line up to be mauled to death by monsters or else they're a bad person.

Who has a greater right to enjoy themselves in that space? That’s the kind of question that Eureka poses, and makes you consider both sides as human being rather than denoting one as just an ontologically evil villain to be destroyed.

We actually don't know of perfect solutions to all the problems presented by the existance of monsters in Eureka, we just know that "exterminate all people who are parasites and burdens to society" ain't it.

[molinaskies]

I rewatched Sonic Twitter Takeover 7 recently and been thinking a lot about this question (this is only part of the answer given) because I had a little epiphany about it.

Obviously these aren’t really ”””canon”””. The lore revelations to be had in these takeovers aren’t supposed to prove any major theories, BUT I like to look at the takeovers as a general guide for how the characters are meant to be perceived at the time of their release.

I remember people reacting to both this takeover and takeover 6 (sonic frontiers) a bit poorly because of how Amy’s feelings for Sonic were downplayed. Given the recent stuff with the Gens remaster, too, this still feels particularly relevant.

Amy’s romantic feelings for Sonic have been downplayed—there’s no denying that—but I don’t think they’re being erased. With the exception of that one clip from takeover 6 (where Amy says she loves Sonic, Tails teases her about it, and Amy backpedals, saying she said “like,” not “love”—very Boom! Amy, btw), Amy’s feelings have still been on prominent display.

However, two things have changed:

1) Amy’s love has matured,

And, more importantly, in my book—

2) Sonic’s response has matured.

In the above clip, Amy states emphatically that Sonic is “her’s” and that she loves him and that he’s perfect, but kind of stumbles over herself once she realizes what she says. Important to note is that she doesn’t take it back at all, meaning that she meant what she said, but probably would have said it differently if she had given it foresight, given the setting they’re in.

This reads to me like Amy is still very confident in her feelings but is making a conscious effort to be less pushy about it—perhaps for Sonic’s sake. However, sometimes it just gets away from her because her love is just so plentiful. It’s cute!

And what makes it even cuter for me is that Sonic is, just, like, totally okay with this?

What does he do when she goofed up and gets flustered about it? He laughs! Short and sweet. He’s very aware of her affection, and he doesn’t mind it at ALL. He loves when he can get reactions out of her (directly or not). It’s in this same takeover that Sonic rags on strawberry shortcake (Amy’s favourite cake flavour) again—specifically to tease her—and he laughs the exact same way, there, too!

(It’s also implied, there, that Sonic gets Amy to chase him, so he seeks out the game just as much as she does.)

Sonic’s response can still read as distinctly neutral on a romantic level, for those who’d prefer that, but objectively it’s a lot more overtly positive. There is no denying that he enjoys her attention.

So, it’s a rebrand. For sure. But I actually find this to be a lot more wholesome? Zainey Amy™️ (when written well and not over-the-top for comedy like in certain games) absolutely has its appeal and deserves its place in canon, but the idea of Amy literally being unable to contain her love for Sonic and her compliments bubbling over is very cute to me. I also find it more powerful and significant because she’s finding her words to express her love instead of just reacting. It’s more thoughtful and reads as more genuine, as a result.

It’s different, but in my opinion, not bad! She’s not boring. She’s still giddy, passionate, loving, and more compassionate than she’s ever been. And Sonic is more accepting (enticed, even) as a result.

[monamipencil]

study break ! | l.jh

pairings; fem! reader x jihoon | genre; smut, fluff, established relationship, minors do not interact | tw; fingering, pussy slapping, spitting, making out, reader is stressed due to exams, mention of caffeine | a/n; i very much need this lmao and to anyone who has exams coming up, you got this!!

“you said—hungh—only a few minutes!”

the wet sounds of jihoon's fingers fucking your hole fills your ears. your legs are spread wide apart and quivering under the pleasure he brings you.

“well, I didn't see you cum,” he says, though he's well aware that he's currently working on your third orgasm of the evening.

“but I did! ah—fuck, yes there!”

his curled fingers rubbing against that spongy spot has you seeing stars. you grind your clit on the heel of his palm, stimulating the little nub. your lips fall apart, letting out wanton, broken moans with no care. the only thought in your brain belongs to your boyfriend and his fingers.

“feels good?” he purrs, looking down at you with hooded eyes. you nod mindlessly with tears welling up in your eyes. the cold material of your study table feels good against your searing skin.

“good, can't have my baby get all stressed over an exam.”

you whine at the reminder of your dreaded test but it's pushed down when you feel the tight knot in your stomach. jihoon pulls out his fingers to deliver a slap to your cunt. you gasp at that, wanting more of it. he chuckles, looking at your expression.

“want more?” you nod again, absolutely no thoughts other than this god of a man.

he slaps your clit again and spits on it. a mixture of a whine and a gasp escapes your lips when he smears his spit on your folds and rubs your clit harshly.

that prompts you to sit up on your study table, hips bucking into his hands. your notes and books scattered away to avoid any damage to them.

“fuck,” he mutters, eyes skating over your glossy eyes and puffy lips. your eyes flutter shut as you tilt your head, leaning up to him. he takes the cue, and slots his lips on yours. his tongue slips past your lips with practiced ease.

his ministrations on your clit doesn't cease even as he pushes his tongue down your throat. you glide your tongue over his, savoring the warm, wet feeling of it. it only makes you more wet and horny.

your cunt throbs wildly and the knot only grows tighter. you grind your cunt into his hand, chasing the relief you so badly needed. he adds two digits inside you while continuing to thumb your clit. your moans are silenced to hums by his tongue.

and without warning, you reach your orgasm. it throws you over the edge and you curl your arms over his shoulders to prevent yourself from losing it.

his pace slows down as he gently pumps his fingers in and out of you. he breaks the kiss, pulling away to look at you. and the sight in front of him is mesmerizing.

your fucked out expression, your puffy, parted lips, your heaving chest, your quivering legs and your slick cunt. well, shit.

he hisses, feeling this cock throb under his pants but he controls himself. he did it to relieve your stress, not pleasure himself. he won't be selfish now but he can always be later.

with a kiss to your cheek, he walks to grab a towel. he presses the wet cloth on your cunt and wipes off your fluids. jihoon helps you put on your panty and shorts in your dazed state.

“sorry hun,” he presses a kiss to your forehead. “i couldn't help it.”

you chuckle, “it's fine.”

he hums and helps you sit on your comfy chair. your confused eyes follow him as he slips on his jacket and takes his purse. he flashes you a grin, “i'll go buy us some coffee and energy drinks. i'll pull an all-nighter with you, ok?”

you nod and smile, looking at him with literal hearts in your eyes. the apartment door shuts behind him and then only you allow yourself to squeal hit your head against the table.

a permanent smile etches on your lips as you flip through your study material, happy to have a boyfriend like jihoon.