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wachinyeya · 11 months ago

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‘Ferrari in a junkyard’: Mules sold at auction are rare, endangered horses

https://washingtonpost.com/climate-environment/2024/08/09/przewalskis-horses-rescued-dna-shrek-fiona/

Hannah Huckabay regularly combs livestock auctions online for horses she can rehabilitate and train at her Colorado ranch. But when she saw a video in February of a mule for sale in Kansas, she could hardly believe what she was seeing.

The stocky animal’s short black mane shot straight up like a mohawk, and its white belly stood out against its tan coat. As it nervously paced in its corral, Huckabay said it bore a striking resemblance to Przewalski’s horse, a critically endangered species she’d learned about while studying equine science.

“I was like, ‘There is no way. That is not a mule,’” Huckabay recalled thinking. “That’s a purebred Przewalski.”

Such a find would be incredibly rare. Once extinct in the wild, around 2,500 Przewalski’s horses remained worldwide as of 2022. They’re native to Mongolia and in June, seven were reintroduced to nearby Kazakhstan as part of an effort to return them to their natural habitats. They are the only truly wild horse remaining (mustangs are feral horses).

But scientists say Huckabay’s hunch appears to be correct. Hair samples from the animal Huckabay purchased - along with a second horse recently surrendered at a Utah sanctuary - were sent to Texas A&M University’s animal genetics lab. Both appear to be Przewalski’s horses, said Rytis Juras, the genetics lab’s director who tested both samples.

The hair test looks for genetic markers associated with different horse breeds to determine an animal’s likely ancestry. Unequivocally confirming that the horses are purebred Przewalski’s and not hybrids would require advanced blood tests that are expensive and would mean sedating the equines.

The blood tests look at the number of chromosomes in a horse’s cells - 66 in a purebred Przewalski, versus 64 in a common horse or 62 in a donkey. An even more advanced version could sequence the horse’s entire genome.

But Juras and two other scientists who reviewed the findings said the hair-test results are reliable.

“If I would have gotten it from a zoo … that would be one thing,” Juras said of receiving the samples. But two random tests with Przewalski’s results were “surprising and a little bit disturbing,” he said. “This is weird.”

How the horse Huckabay found - and the second in Utah - ended up in livestock auctions is a mystery, said Christopher Faulk, a professor of animal science at the University of Minnesota who has studied Przewalski’s horse genetics and also reviewed the DNA results.

“Someone had to have known what they were, they don’t just appear out of anywhere,” Faulk told The Post. “Especially to have been disposed of in that way is even weirder,” he said, since livestock that aren’t purchased at auction can end up in slaughterhouses.

“That’s like finding a Ferrari in a junkyard,” he added.

Huckabay bought the animal for $1,375 in February and, after three weeks in quarantine, the ragged and underweight animal sold as a mule arrived at her ranch outside Denver.

Seeing its features in-person left her even more convinced it was a Przewalski’s horse, she said. With a large clunky head and stiff black mane, her daughter said the horse was so ugly, he was cute, Huckabay recalled. They named him Shrek, after DreamWorks’s beloved ogre.

After almost two months of helping Shrek acclimate, Huckabay’s daughter stumbled upon a video posted on June 9 from a sanctuary in Utah.

“Did we just have a Przewalski mare surrendered?!” the caption read.

Kelsey and Gunnar Bjorklund - who own the Lazy B Equine Rescue and Sanctuary in Utah - suspected their mare was also a Przewalski. But they had no idea there was a second possible Przewalski, saved from another auction.

The Bjorklunds’ horse was brought to their facility after being purchased for $35 in January at an auction in Utah, where she was advertised as a mule.

“It takes more money to get your nails done,” Kelsey said, adding that her previous owner decided to surrender the mare after she flunked out of a professional training program.

When the horse arrived and was unloaded from the trailer, “we were just in shock,” Gunnar said. It was clear the animal wasn’t a mule or a mustang, he said.

“Anyone getting possible Przewalski vibes!?” the Bjorklunds posted. “A true wild, endangered species of equine‼️ How cool would that be!”

In response to seeing the Bjorklunds’ viral video, Huckabay’s daughter posted her own videos of Shrek two days later. One got over 11 million views.

After coming across Shrek’s video, it was easy for the Bjorklunds to settle on a name for their mystery horse - Fiona, the princess-heroine from the Shrek movies.

The rescuers were stunned that two possible Przewalski’s horses could have surfaced almost simultaneously. The Endangered Species Act allows private ownership of endangered animals, but only with a permit, and under strict stipulations. The law prohibits the possession of illegally obtained endangered animals or their transport across state lines without permits.

The U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service declined to comment on whether officials are investigating the horses’ chain of custody.

Some livestock auctions have occasionally served as hubs for illicit trade in exotic animal species.

Because most Przewalski’s horses descend from only about a dozen surviving individuals, scientists closely manage breeding genetics for diversity. Compared to the feral mustang, Przewalski’s are more resilient, said Dolores Reed, a biologist who helps oversee a small herd of the endangered horses at the Smithsonian’s National Zoo and Conservation Biology Institute. Przewalski’s horses are built for the Mongolian steppe’s harsh climate, she said, adding, “they’re very tough,” and can be unpredictable.

There are about 100 Przewalski’s horses in U.S. zoos, Reed said.

Shrek and Fiona are adjusting to their new environments, their owners said. After keeping his distance from people and trotting in circles in his pen while stressed, Shrek has relaxed and moved to a larger field. He has bonded with two gentle mares and while he won’t accept treats from people’s hands, he loves when apples and carrots are left in his feed bucket, Huckabay said.

“He’s very piggy,” she said.

In Utah, Fiona has put on weight and made friends with a miniature mule and a quarter horse filly at the Bjorklunds’ sanctuary.

The rescuers wonder what would’ve happened if Shrek and Fiona hadn’t been saved. The endangered animals might’ve been sent to slaughter “and nobody would have known about it,” Gunnar said.

Huckabay and the Bjorklunds plan to care for the horses as long as needed, but said they’d prefer to see their rescued Przewalski’s move to a professional conservation program.

Shrek is happy on the ranch, but Huckabay said she’d rather see him with “a herd of his own.”

“That would be the best-case scenario,” she said.

#this is fucking insane #Przewalski’s horses #Przewalski’s horse #horses #colorado #animal protection #animal welfare #science #environment #nature #animals #usa #long post

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consultingwives · 1 year ago

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As someone who works in the reliability sector of IT I cannot emphasize how much you have to give 0 fucks about professional standards and best practices in order to do something like what Crowdstrike did.

At the company I work for, which you have definitely heard of, there are thousands of people (including me, hi) part of whose job it is to sit in rooms for literal hours every week with the people building new features and updating our software and ask them every question we can possibly think of about how their changes might impact the overall system and what potential risks there are. We brainstorm how to minimize those risks, impose requirements on the developers, and ultimately the buck stops with us. Some things are just too risky.

Many of the practices developed at this and other companies are now in wide use across the industry, including things like staggered rollouts (i.e. only 1/3 people get this update at first, then 2/3, then everyone) and multi-stage testing (push it to a fake system we set up for these purposes, see what it does).

In cases where you’re updating firmware or an os, there are physical test devices you need to update and verify that everything behaves as expected. If you really care about your customers you’ll hand the device to someone who works on a different system altogether and tell them to do their worst.

The bottom line here is that if Crowdstrike were following anything even resembling industry best practices there should have been about twenty failsafes between a kernel bug and a global update that bricked basically every enterprise machine in the world. This is like finding out the virus lab has a direct HVAC connection to the big conference room. There is genuinely no excuse for this kind of professional incompetence.

#crowdstrike #falcon

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andmaybegayer · 1 month ago

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youtube

Rambling: So much of this is just like. It's all the money, you can't get around the money. Engineering is primarily a cost optimisation problem, so is business, where do you buy your parts, how much do you pay your labour. The companies can make equal quality goods cheaper in China because of the industrial base. Western workers don't want to work in manufacturing because it doesn't pay as much or as reliably as other jobs.

I like reading articles and watching videos about factories and a thing you find with a lot of American factories is they're often highly specific niche industries where they don't have much competition or they're really low volume where less intensive manufacturing processes still work or they have big military contracts that give them their base income. Really it's wild how every little engineering shop in the US requires base level security clearance because they make the cable harness for the Hornet or whatever. And crucially, crucially: they employ 100 people. Planning to work for one of these companies is like planning to be a pro baseball player but you make $35/hr.

I studied in South Africa, and I studied electrical engineering, but like. That was my fifth or sixth choice from a personal interest perspective? As a teenager I was really into biochem. I really wanted to work on like. Bioreactor stuff. South Africa has okay industrial chemistry but not that much biochem. So why would I go spend five years getting a biochem Masters and hope I could find a job at one of like six companies. It's a bad move! Once again, baseball player odds! Mostly if you're lucky you'll get to fuck around in a half-related field for a few years and then you'll wind up with some office job that you found because it turns out running tests on paint shearing isn't personally fulfilling enough to make you stay in a lab job.

Hell, even taking the Good Hiring Engineering Job market, it's a goddamn pain in the ass to find any actual engineering work. I applied to dozens of internship positions every semester at engineering firms and workshops and never so much as heard back, whereas I could go to the software job fairs and get two offers and several interviews for a vacation job in a couple weeks. You can swim upstream to get in there but even if you're willing to take the pay cut, engineering jobs are slow moving and slow hiring, and in small departments your professional progression is often gated behind someone retiring or dying.

A while ago someone (was this Reggie? sounds like him EDIT: YEP) was talking about how part of the reason why no one in the US for the past 20 years can do like, epitaxial growth optimisation isn't because there's some philosophical or educational divison, but because anyone committed and driven enough to spend months optimizing that would just put that energy and commitment into going into software or becoming a quant or some other higher yield option. Meanwhile if you're a driven and focussed ladder climber in China there's dozens of factories looking for someone to do exactly this. The people in the West who are so into this that they still do it are often in academia, not industry, and that's an even more competitive and impenetrable sector to get into. Getting a PhD grad job in academic chip manufacturing is miserable, it's basically a six year long interview process that costs you hundreds of thousands of dollars that has a 0.1% chance of panning out.

Actually, I did once do a factory internship, it was my only nepotism internship, at a construction materials factory where my dad was a manager, and it was really interesting work! I had a lot of freedom in a small engineering team and I spent a while understanding a bag filling machine and reading manuals and tuning the control process and talking to floor workers and designing sheet metal parts to improve their jobs. And when I talked to the engineer supervising me I found out he was on a six month contract that wasn't getting renewed and he would be leaving the company basically the same time my internship ended. That company hadn't hired a full-time process engineer in ages, and probably never would if they could avoid it. Not encouraging!

People often say you should get into the trades because they pay well and are material fulfilling work. This is like. It's an elision. Successful tradespeople are in very high demand, but becoming a successful tradesperson is very, very finicky. I worked with a lot of electricians and millwrights and technicians, and for every tech who was successful and running a roaring business there were five guys stuck in eternal apprenticeships or struggling to make a name for themselves in the industry on their own. Some trades are great for this, other trades are 90% training scams where you spend nine months and five thousand dollars on a course that gives you a certificate almost no one cares about.

Every now and then I talk to an installation tech I used to work with who has a bunch of CCTV and security certs he got in the DRC, and he is just absolutely struggling to get by. There's already enough successful companies to serve the demand, why would you take a risk on this fly-by-night? He could find a technical job, and he does, but it's a dead end, everyone wants a base technician forever, they don't want you to upskill and move on. They hire in an external electrician to come in for an hour sign off on your work, and that's all you need.

You can't develop an industrial base unless it's appealing to work in the industrial base. If you're an industrialising nation, the appeal is "It's not farm work and you might get some real money instead of a sack of barley" but in a modern society you need to pay at least as well as the office jobs. If your industrial sector is small it can afford to only hire the most qualified people because it's a labour buyer's market, and that's how you produce a massive knowledge gap.

#Youtube #industrial capacity #engineering #smartereveryday is an interesting example he is a weapons engineer and a weird military guy #which like yeah that's how you do manufacturing in the US. Every little engineering shop needs military clearance #having a weird week re: industry i guess

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hyunjinlosthisamericano · 2 days ago

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Whispers and Walls

synopsis: Y/N and Seungmin start as best friends in university, growing closer over years of shared moments and unspoken feelings. When Seungmin finally confesses his love on a rooftop, their friendship grows into a passionate relationship.

Y/N’s first day at university was not what she imagined it would be. She had fantasized about it often — breezing into campus with confidence, sipping overpriced coffee, laughing with new friends as they headed to lectures. But reality was far less glamorous.

She had gotten off at the wrong bus stop and arrived late, sweaty and nervous, with her campus map half-crumpled in her bag. The buildings were larger than they looked online, the halls too long, and the students too fast. She was clearly out of place — a freshman in a sea of people who already looked like they belonged.

After wandering around for a while, too embarrassed to ask for directions, she ended up in the cafeteria — not where she was supposed to be, but at least there were tables. She was starving, stressed, and trying to hold back a small wave of panic. She scanned the room for an empty seat and spotted a guy sitting alone at a corner table. He had earbuds in, one foot tapping lightly to a beat, and a sketchpad open on the table beside a half-eaten sandwich.

As she hesitated, he looked up, made eye contact, and calmly pulled out one earbud.

“You can sit,” he said, with a slight smile.

“Are you sure?” she asked, cautious.

“Yeah. You look like you need a break.”

She smiled in relief and sat down. “I got lost like three times already. This place is huge.”

“I know,” he said, chuckling. “I got locked in a supply closet my first week. And I didn’t even realize until my professor asked why I missed the lab.”

That made her laugh — the genuine, easy kind. And just like that, something shifted.

“I’m Y/N,” she said after a moment, sipping from her water bottle.

“Seungmin. Second year.”

“Ah. That explains the calm energy.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Calm?”

“Yeah. You’re just sitting here like the world’s not spinning out of control.”

He smirked. “Give it a week. I’m just good at faking it.”

That lunch turned into something more. After that day, they kept bumping into each other — on campus, at the library, in the shared courtyard near the dorms. Eventually, they stopped pretending it was coincidence and started planning it instead.

Seungmin became her anchor in that chaotic first year. He helped her find her classes, taught her which professors were strict, where the good vending machines were, and how to use the glitchy printer in the engineering building. He always waited for her outside lectures if they ended around the same time, and even stayed late in the library when she had a test to prepare for.

She was drawn to how steady he was — not loud or flashy, but quietly reliable. He didn’t try to be funny, but he was. He didn’t try to be comforting, but he was. He made her feel like she wasn’t alone, like maybe she could actually handle this whole “university” thing.

Their friendship wasn’t born from drama or big moments — it was built in between things. In half-eaten sandwiches during study breaks. In long walks across campus. In movie nights that turned into 3 a.m. talks. He saw her at her worst — when she cried over a failed quiz, when she panicked before a presentation, when she stayed up all night and couldn’t form sentences the next morning — and never once pulled away.

She, in turn, learned him in small ways. That he liked his ramen extra spicy. That he always cracked his knuckles before writing. That he had a playlist for every mood but never let anyone else hear it. That he was quieter when he was stressed, but not distant — and if you just sat beside him, he’d eventually say what he needed to.

They became inseparable.

By the time Y/N was in her second year and Seungmin in his third, everyone assumed they were together. “You guys are literally joined at the hip,” their friend Mina joked once. “If you’re not dating, what are you doing?”

Y/N had laughed. So had Seungmin. It became the running joke among their group — teasing glances, mock love songs, fake wedding invites. They always played along, brushing it off with the same old line: “Best friends. That’s all.”

But even Y/N couldn’t deny that things had started to feel… different.

It wasn’t just the way he waited for her after class anymore — it was how his eyes always searched for hers in a crowd. It wasn’t just the friendly teasing — it was how she remembered every look, every touch, every quiet pause between conversations that hung a little too long.

And Seungmin felt it too.

He couldn’t pinpoint when the change happened. Maybe it was when she fell asleep on his shoulder during a boring lecture and he realized he didn’t want to move because it felt right. Maybe it was when she danced barefoot in the rain after finals and he couldn’t look away. Maybe it was all the little moments that added up into one undeniable truth.

They were still best friends, yes. But now the air between them was heavy with something else — something waiting to be spoken.

By Y/N’s third year, their bond had reached that rare kind of intimacy where nothing needed to be said, but everything was felt. They still weren’t together. Still not kissing, not holding hands — not technically. But her heart beat faster when he was around. And his voice softened just for her. And every time someone teased them, it stung less because maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t a joke.

She started imagining it. Him holding her hand for real. Kissing her forehead before an exam. Whispering “I love you” when they were alone on the rooftop like they always were.

And maybe, if she had the courage, she would’ve confessed. Maybe. But before she could even think about it seriously…

He texted her one afternoon.

Lunch. Terrace. Just us.

And for the first time in a long while, she didn’t know what to expect.

The terrace wasn’t unfamiliar to them.

They’d been there countless times before — skipping crowded cafeterias, escaping the noise, sitting with their backs against the warm wall as the city stretched before them. They’d talked about everything up there. The future. Regrets. Family. Stupid dreams. Secrets neither of them told anyone else.

But that day, something was different.

Y/N could feel it in the way Seungmin had texted her — simple words, Lunch. Terrace. Just us. — but laced with a quiet urgency. No emoji, no teasing tone. Just him, asking her to come.

So she did.

The sun was high but gentle, casting soft golden streaks across the rooftop. The wind stirred her hair as she stepped out onto the terrace, squinting slightly. And there he was — leaning against the far railing with his hands tucked into his pockets, head tilted slightly toward the city skyline. He looked calm, but his jaw was tight. Like he’d been rehearsing something.

When he turned to face her, everything around her slowed.

He didn’t smile right away, didn’t joke like he normally would. Instead, he walked over to her silently and took her hand — fingers lacing through hers with a certainty that made her heart flutter.

She let him guide her to the railing, standing shoulder to shoulder, staring out at the world like they had so many times before.

Only this time, he was holding her hand like it meant something more.

“I don’t know how to start this,” he said quietly, voice soft and uneven, “because I’ve never done this before — not like this. Not with someone who already means everything to me.”

Y/N’s breath caught, her fingers tightening around his.

“I didn’t plan on falling for you,” he said, eyes still on the skyline. “It just… happened. Somewhere between showing you around campus and sharing playlists and fighting over the last slice of pizza — I fell for you.”

He finally turned to her then.

His eyes, usually so cool and composed, were wide open — stripped of sarcasm and shield. They held only sincerity.

“I used to tell myself it was just friendship. That what we had was rare, but not that. But then I started noticing all the little things — like how my day doesn’t feel real until I see you. How I remember every damn thing you say. How the world just… dulls when you’re not around.”

Her heart pounded.

He stepped closer, so close their arms touched, so close she could feel the nervous thump of his pulse.

“I love you, Y/N. Not just as a friend. Not as someone I’m comfortable with. But as someone I want to keep beside me — long after we graduate. I want more. I want us.”

Y/N stared at him, every second crashing into her all at once — the shared looks, the teasing, the way his hoodie smelled, the way she’d always felt safest in his presence, how she’d started craving his voice on bad days.

She felt full and breathless and exposed.

And yet… she’d never been more sure of anything.

“I don’t even know when it started either,” she said, her voice trembling slightly. “It just became you. Always you. In every part of my life. And now I can’t picture it without you.”

Seungmin’s breath hitched. His grip on her hand tightened.

“I love you,” she said, the words finally free.

The silence that followed was thick with everything they had waited so long to say. And then, like gravity had been waiting for permission, they pulled each other in — fast, fierce, but tender.

Their first kiss was the kind that only happens once — the kind that tasted like every memory, every laugh, every moment they’d ever shared. His lips were soft but certain, hers searching, both of them melting into the truth they’d tried so long to ignore.

And when they finally pulled apart, breathless, their foreheads pressed together, the wind catching their hair in lazy twists, Seungmin whispered, “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.”

Y/N smiled. “Guess we’re finally not ‘just friends’ anymore.”

He laughed softly, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “Not even close.”

The next ten months felt like something out of a quiet, golden dream.

Their relationship didn’t explode into chaos or burn too hot too fast — it simmered, slow and steady, unfolding like pages of a love story that had already been written long before either of them realized it.

It was natural — too natural — the way everything simply shifted from friendship to love without feeling like anything had been lost. They still laughed over dumb memes, still argued over song rankings, still had inside jokes that made no sense to anyone else. But now, there were soft kisses in between lectures, fingers intertwined under cafeteria tables, jackets shared when it got cold. The world hadn’t changed — but they had. And it made everything feel warmer.

They supported each other more than ever — celebrating wins, soothing failures, anchoring one another through the stress of assignments and late-night breakdowns. Seungmin had a way of calming Y/N with just a look, a hand on her back, a few whispered words. And she brought light to him on his heaviest days, reminding him who he was when self-doubt crept in.

They loved being with each other. Not just in the big, cinematic ways — but in the small things. The shared playlists during bus rides. The way they instinctively bought each other’s favorite snacks. The nights they stayed in, curled up in bed watching old movies, legs tangled and voices barely above whispers. The forehead kisses, the sleepy cuddles, the soft hums of “I missed you today” even if they’d seen each other that morning.

It wasn’t perfect. They had their moments — little arguments over nothing, stubborn silences, and rare miscommunications. But the beauty of them was always in how they came back. How they never let anything fester. How love was always louder than pride.

And slowly, quietly, their physical relationship grew.

It started with stolen kisses that deepened over time, with lingering hands and playful grazes that turned into undeniable want. One night — after a late dinner and hours of talking in Seungmin’s dorm room — the kisses didn’t stop. They stretched longer, deeper, hungrier, until there was no space left between them. Every look, every breath felt charged. And when Seungmin pulled her onto his lap and whispered, “Stay,” she did — without a second thought.

Their first time wasn’t rushed. It was soft. Intimate. A little awkward, a little messy — full of laughter, gasps, and gentle guidance. Seungmin was careful, attentive, learning her body the way he had learned her heart. Y/N felt safe — worshipped even — like every part of her was seen and wanted.

And from there, things only grew more intense.

The next few months were filled with passion. They couldn’t get enough of each other. Sex became an extension of their love — sometimes slow and tender, sometimes desperate and loud. Seungmin memorized every sound she made, every place she trembled. Y/N learned how to unravel him with her hands, her lips, her body pressed tight against his.

There was trust in every touch. No hesitation, no shame. Just two people exploring one another with deep affection and raw need.

Some nights it happened after long study sessions, Seungmin still in glasses, Y/N perched on his lap, moaning into his mouth as books lay forgotten on the floor. Other nights it was quiet, under blankets, with slow thrusts and breathless “I love you”s echoing in the dark. And sometimes it was hot — messy kisses against walls, clothes half-on, a hand muffling moans because the dorm walls were too thin.

They learned each other’s rhythms, boundaries, and desires. And Seungmin, ever the observant one, started noticing things — like how Y/N’s breathing would hitch when they weren’t supposed to be doing anything. How she’d bite her lip harder when the door was unlocked. How her eyes darkened whenever there was a slight risk of someone overhearing them.

It was subtle — not something she ever said aloud. But it was there. And Seungmin didn’t miss it.

He knew her well enough to see it — that little thrill she got from the possibility of being caught. From knowing someone might hear her. From the danger of discovery wrapped in the comfort of his arms.

And he planned something.

He didn’t bring it up immediately — didn’t want to scare her off or push anything she wasn’t ready for. But the idea sat with him, turned over in his mind during long classes, quiet showers, late-night thoughts. Until finally, the perfect opportunity came.

All he had to do… was ask her to meet him in that one block. The one no one ever used.

But that came later.

Because for now — for those ten months — all they knew was the beauty of loving each other completely, emotionally and physically, wrapped in the kind of connection most people never find even once in a lifetime.

It was a rainy Wednesday when Y/N let it slip.

They were tangled up on Seungmin’s bed, half-dressed and flushed from the kind of lazy morning sex that always felt better under grey skies. Her head rested on his chest, fingers tracing light circles across the faint lines of his abs while his hand ran idly through her hair.

They talked about everything after sex — about the weird dream he had last night, about the professor who always said "okay?" after every sentence, about what they should order for lunch — and then, somehow, about that one time in the music room when they almost got caught.

“I still can’t believe we didn’t get caught,” Seungmin said, laughing. “Your face when the doorknob rattled…”

“I was terrified,” she giggled, burying her face in his chest.

“But also kinda into it?”

She froze — just a little — and then sighed.

“…Maybe,” she murmured. “Not, like, in a crazy way. But I don’t know. There’s something about the idea of… someone hearing. Like — the risk of it.”

Seungmin’s hand stilled in her hair.

“…Say that again?”

Y/N laughed, suddenly shy. “Don’t make it a thing. It’s not even really a kink. It’s just… I don’t know. I like the idea of someone almost knowing. That thrill.”

Seungmin didn’t say anything at first.

But she didn’t miss the way his fingers started slowly stroking down her spine. Or the way his chest rose a little deeper beneath her cheek. Or — most dangerous of all — the quiet, devilish little grin tugging at his lips.

“Oh,” he said, tone casual but his eyes anything but. “Interesting.”

Y/N narrowed her eyes. “Seungmin.”

“What?” he asked, clearly too smug. “I’m just saying… interesting.”

She shoved him lightly, but the way his mind was clearly racing made her heart pound a little faster.

Two days later, he texted her during class.

“Bunk your next lecture. Meet me at the west block. Second floor.”

She stared at her phone.

And then stared again.

The west block?

No one used the west block anymore. It had been partially shut down for renovation last year — now it was mostly just empty rooms and forgotten desks. Except for the cleaning staff who used the bottom floor as a break space, no one ever went up there.

Which made it… very quiet.

And very secluded.

Her stomach flipped.

By the time she arrived — heart thudding, palms damp — Seungmin was already waiting at the side entrance, hoodie up, hands in his pockets like this was just another normal Friday.

He gave her a look. That look. The one that started in his eyes and sank all the way between her thighs.

“Took you long enough,” he murmured, voice low as he reached for her hand.

She didn’t ask questions.

Didn’t need to.

He led her through the side stairwell, up to the second floor where the lights flickered and the halls echoed just a little too loudly. There was an old classroom at the end — door half-closed, chalkboard still dusty with some abandoned formula from semesters ago.

He nudged the door shut behind them and turned to face her.

“You trust me?” he asked, voice calm but something burning behind it.

She nodded.

“Good.”

And then his lips were on hers.

The kiss wasn’t slow. It was deep. Hungry. Filled with all the pent-up energy of knowing exactly what she’d said, exactly what she’d meant, and the fact that they were both willingly, eagerly here to make it real.

Her back hit the nearest desk as he kissed her harder, hands slipping under her shirt, thumbs brushing over her ribs like he already knew her skin would light up from the touch. She moaned into his mouth, breathless already, grabbing fistfuls of his hoodie as he pulled her flush against him.

“You know,” he murmured, lips dragging down her neck, “you really shouldn’t have told me that.”

“Told you what?” she breathed, eyes fluttering shut.

“That you like being heard.”

She whimpered, hips twitching forward on instinct.

He smirked against her throat. “Yeah. That.”

In one swift move, he lifted her onto the desk, spreading her thighs and stepping between them. His hands were everywhere — pushing up her skirt, tugging down her underwear, fingers sliding through her folds like he had all the time in the world.

“Already this wet?” he whispered. “From the idea alone?”

She blushed, looking away — but he caught her chin, forcing her to look at him.

“No hiding. Not today.”

And with that, he dropped to his knees.

Y/N nearly screamed the moment his mouth met her.

He licked her slowly, deliberately, tongue curling up against her clit while his hands pinned her thighs wide open. The contrast of the cold desk under her and the heat of his mouth made her arch off the surface. She grabbed a fistful of his hair, eyes rolling back as he groaned against her — like he was the one being wrecked.

But then — footsteps.

Somewhere below.

Y/N froze.

Her entire body tensed, her hand flying to her mouth instinctively.

Seungmin didn’t stop.

If anything, he went deeper — tongue flicking faster, lips wrapping around her like he wanted to pull every moan out of her lungs.

“M–Min… someone’s—” she gasped, muffled by her own hand.

“I know,” he muttered against her, and the vibration of his voice nearly made her come right then.

She squirmed, panicked and aroused and desperate all at once.

But Seungmin just held her there — fingers digging into her thighs, eyes dark and locked on her face like he was daring her to fall apart.

And she did.

Biting her palm, thighs shaking around his head, she came with a force that made her vision blur. And he didn’t stop until her legs were trembling, until she had to push his head away, too sensitive to take more.

When he finally stood, his lips were slick, eyes wild with desire.

“You’re not done,” he said simply.

He undid his belt, jeans pushed down just enough and pulled her forward by the waist.

“Face the desk.”

Y/N, still catching her breath, obeyed without hesitation. She bent forward, cheek pressed to the cool surface, her skirt still bunched at her waist. She felt him slide his cock between her thighs — hot, hard, already dripping from just tasting her.

And when he entered her, slow but deep, she nearly sobbed.

“Fuck,” he groaned, one hand gripping her hip, the other sliding up her back to pin her down. “You feel so good when you’re trying to be quiet.”

Because yes — the footsteps were still there.

Closer.

In the hallway.

She bit down on her knuckles as he started thrusting — deep, rhythmic strokes that filled her perfectly. He wasn’t being rough. Not yet. Just intentional — like he wanted to make every movement echo in her core.

She couldn’t think. Couldn’t breathe.

Could only feel.

He leaned over her, chest against her back, lips brushing her ear.

“You like this?” he whispered. “Being fucked where someone could hear? Where anyone could walk in?”

She whimpered a yes, too breathless to speak.

“Say it.”

“I— I like it,” she choked out. “I like being heard.”

He growled low in his throat — and slammed into her harder.

The desk creaked. Her hands scrambled for something to hold onto. The sheer danger of the moment, the way her body was pressed open and vulnerable while Seungmin held her steady, pushed her to the edge again.

When she came the second time, her mouth was wide open but silent — a strangled, shuddering mess against the desk.

And then he came too — deep inside her, groaning her name into the crook of her neck as his hips finally stilled.

They stood there for a moment, panting, dripping with sweat and something more, their bodies still tangled, the air around them buzzing.

When they finally pulled apart, cleaned up, and fixed their clothes, Seungmin leaned in, brushed a soft kiss to her forehead, and whispered:

“You’re mine. Everywhere. Even here.”

Y/N smiled, cheeks still flushed, heart still pounding.

“You planned that.”

“Of course I did.”

And as they left the quiet, echoing block hand-in-hand, still high from the thrill of what they’d just done, Y/N knew one thing for sure:

This boy would be the death of her. And she’d let him.

© [2025] @hyunjinlosthisamericano. All rights reserved. No part of this work may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the author.

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leviathxn · 1 year ago

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Hi! I have a request! If you would like to do it...😊

Uhm, so what if y/n and Miguel are married for years and have kids but the Spider society doesn't know. And the shock on the Spider crew faces when they find out about Miguel's sweet side.

YESS I ABSOLUTELY LOVE THESE

(N/N) is nickname or whatever spider name you want to go by

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“Who are you?”

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By no means were you a strong spider. In your universe, you were the first test subject. You got minor powers of a spider. They weren’t very prevalent so the lab tried another experiment, and that person became the true Spider-Man of the universe. You guys were close friends you ended up becoming their sidekick. People assumed there was a relationship, but actually your heart belong to someone else. That somebody was Miguel O’ Hara.

You met Miguel when your partner had ran into the portal and you followed shortly after. Love at first sight might be a reach. You were definitely in love, Miguel was too… he just had to open up to it. He did. It took him a long time but he did.

However, just like him, nobody had any idea. They figured it was on sided, nothing special. So it stayed a secret between you and Miguel. In the span of 5 years, you and Miguel had gotten married, moved in together, had a kid and had another on the way. You never did much at Headquarters so you stayed home taking care of the kid while also staying healthy for your 2nd baby. You were sure nobody knew you existed in the new society, anybody that you had originally met never said much. Since nobody knew your relationship to Miguel, you were seen as a once in a while friend to chat with.

However one day you decided to take your 2 year old and plumped up self to see Miguel and meet new spiders. Not only that but Miguel left your home-made empanadas in the fridge. Your child knew he was spider-man, well as much as a two year old could comprehend. As you walked through the portal it felt like you were looking at an entire new place. You hadn’t been in the Headquarters since the renovation, but luckily you remember seeing the layout blueprints on Miguel’s desk. You got stares, and every now and then a spider would come up to you and “catch-up”. They would ask why you were there, you would say “I’m here to see my husband”, and surprisingly they wouldn’t think much of it. You figured most would assume it was your former partner (Miguel was deathly jealous of him). They said hello to your 2 year old and then would leave you on your mission.

Finally making your way to his office, you picked up your child and gently opened the door. He was standing by his computer screens while a small group of spiders seemed to be… harassing him.

“I think our mission went fine! It wasn’t even a big mistake, nobody died. You can just say your hate me and move on, don’t ban me from the cafeteria”. A teen with bleeding armpits(?) shouted at him. Another blonde spider laughed and smacked his arm

“Miguel wouldn’t get rid of you, he’s running out of reliable people”. You could hear Miguel’s grumbling from a mile away. A British man threw up a random gadget before catching it again (definitely not a toy).

“Well maybe if he wasn’t so mean”. Miguel snatched the gadget out of his hand before an old friend of yours caught eye. Peter B. Parker, with MayDay, ran over to you.

“Oh my God it’s (n/n)! With a kid- two kids? Oh my god this is amazing, long time no see!” He gave you a big hug, playing little hand games with your child. You said hello to Mayday and put down your kid. They two of them already started running off (you were worried about Maydays powers but the place is full of spiders, what could go wrong?). In typical Peter fashion, he runs after the kids and plays with them. The rest of the teens stared, none of them knew who you were. Miguel stared at you across the room, his face softening.

As you walked over to him, you packed his cheek and handed him the empanadas. He gently grabbed your waist and smiled, before taking the empanadas and putting them on the table. You hear Peter gasp as he watches the scene from across the office.

“You should be resting cariño”. You smiled and but a hand over your belly.

“It’s fine bubs, it’s a spider baby, they’ll come out just fine”. He kisses your forehead and holds your hand over your belly.

It was eerily quiet in the room, you had almost forgot that the spiders were there. As you turned your head to look at them, it was pure shock from all, even Mayday was looking at you guys (although she didn’t really understand why).

“It’s nice to meet you guys! You must be the crew I hear all about.” Peter almost fell off the ceiling, luckily catching himself and the kids (when did your kid get up there).

The teens immediately ran up to you as if you were an anomaly, “Who are you and how did you do that!”

—————————————————————————

OKAY THIS WAS SUPER FUN TO BUILD UP TOO

I love doing like backgrounds and then boom the moment, especially for shorts like this. Let me know if you guys liked it, and thank you for the request!

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swasthyapro · 2 months ago

Text

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dinogoofymutated · 1 year ago

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Okay so like,,,,I usually never make requests (I’m a lurker fr fr) but your writing Is god tier, so I gotta ask:

Could you do a fic for Hank/Beast? He’s my personal fave but I never see any content for him ever, like the fic scene for this man is a ghost town. he’s underrated as hell. My man is ripped, highly intelligent and respectful of the arts! Yet he doesn’t get any attention.

I would love to see some general headcanons (SFW & NSFW) if you’re up to it. no problem if you don’t write for him or something, I just thought i would ask.

Thanks!

SFW!Beast/GN!Reader

To be honest, I actually wasn't really sure about writing for Hank at first because I've never really had a connection to the character, but he grew on me!! Plus, I'm here to serve lolol we've been starved of fics as a Fandom for basically forever and it would be a disservice not to fill the Hank void out there! Hope it's okay that I only wrote Sfw headcannons, I have a separate req for NSFW for him so I decided to split it into two to save my sanity lol. Finals are gonna be hell for me.

-ps- Should I be writing right now? no. Am I doing it anyway? Yurp. Also, I'm basing his history off of the fandom wiki, so I'm sorry if anything is off.

Tws: none that I can think of atm. As always, reader written while picturing fem but no pronouns mentioned.

Hank, despite what some would think, was most definitely a heartthrob, particularly in his college days!! I mean, a man who's confident, smart, respectful, and also an athlete? Who wouldn't swoon? He was 110% the guy that everyone wanted to take home to their parents.

And He's such a sweet, attentive lover too!! Acts of service almost definitely is a love language for him. He cooks for you, fixes the broken things that you didn't even realize were broken, even organizes your notes before a difficult exam.

He loves to surprise you with flowers, even if it isn't any special occasion, and if you ask, he'll help you preserve them as well!

He loves to kiss your forehead, temples, and hands. On top of that, he's very touchy. The two of you were most definitely seen as the parents of any friend group.

Things changed a little after he took the serum that mutated him further. His confidence had taken a blow, and he just didn't quite know how to approach you anymore.

It took a hot minute to reassure him that you didn't really care if he was blue, or furry, or beastly, he was still Hank Mccoy, wasn't he? He was the man you were in love with, and you certainly weren't going to stop now. Besides, you still thought he was handsome. With the kinds of books he's seen you read, you're a bit surprised that he didn't think you would find him attractive.

Things gradually got back to normal, but for a while, he didn't kiss you as often as he used to. Well, he didn't kiss you period. Even though he knew the incredible extent to which you loved him, the shape of his mouth had changed. Hell, he had fangs that he would rather die than mark you with.

You practically had to tie him down into a contract to get him to kiss you again. He was always one to experiment, why not treat this the same? If you kiss, and it goes well, you do it again. If it goes well a second time and a third, you have a pretty reliable test. Validity shouldn't matter when he knew that you loved him to bits already.

He felt like he was falling in love with you all over again, and yet he still hesitated. It wasn't until you had grabbed him by the collar to drag him into a kiss that he actually relaxed, and what do you know, it was a pretty reliable test after all. A predictive one too, with how often you continued to kiss him afterwards.

Domestic was the best way to describe your relationship with Hank.

You yawned as you made your way down to the lab, still in your pajamas and slippers. Just a few hours previously, after a shower and self-care routine, you had settled into bed with an eyebrow-raising book as you waited for your husband to come to bed. This was a normal routine for the two of you, you immersing yourself into a book to stay awake until Hank entered, kissed your temple sweetly, and began his own nightly routine. It was a set of events you were used to.

Today, however, you felt like you had done a lot more reading than usual. When you finally pulled yourself out of your book and checked the time, the clock by your bed read 11 pm. A rather late time for Hank to be out, but you already knew where he would be. The lower levels of the mansion were extra cold at night, and you find yourself rubbing some warmth into your arms as you approach the lab.

The doors open with a swish, the light of the lab having all been darkened exempt for the lamp on Hank’s desk. He’s so immersed in what he’s doing that he doesn’t even realize when you come in. You walk up behind his chair, running your hands through his hair softly when you reach him.

Hank isn’t surprised, sighing at the pleasant sensation as he tips his head back to encourage you. You giggle a little, leaning down to press a kiss to his head as you begin to massage his scalp.

“It’s late.” You say gently. Hank hums in response, eyes closed as he appreciates your touch.

“I’m sorry, my love. Seems I was a little entranced.” He says. You huff at him playfully.

“You say entranced, I say you’re overworking yourself. You’ve been working on this project all week. Don’t let it cut into your rest time.” Your scolding always sounded too nice, but he knows you mean it. Hank sighs again, this time sounding a little more tired, but he doesn't argue. He rolls around to face you, pulling you into a tired hug from his chair.

“Perhaps it is time I go to bed. What time is it, my dear?”

“Eleven.” Hank lets out a quiet chuckle at your quick reply, finally standing up. He doesn’t let go of you however, choosing to rest his head on your shoulder as he sways the two of you back and forth.

“You’re most certainly right, it is late. Much too late for a man to leave his lovely spouse waiting. Oh, whatever shall I do to make it up to you?.” His words come out as a purr, and you let out a curt laugh at him. You pull away a little, taking his large hands in your own as you lead him to the door. He smiles widely when you stop for a moment, remembering his glasses and placing them on his face before starting to drag him to bed.

“I’ll let you decide that, Love. As long as you make it to bed, that’s apology enough for me.”

#x men 97 #x men #x men comics #x men 97 x reader #x men headcannons #beast #x men beast #hank mccoy x reader #hank mccoy #x men hank mccoy #x men beast headcannons #hank mccoy headcannons #x men beast x reader

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