#Force and acceleration relationship

[vavaclasses]

A Comprehensive Analysis of Newtons Second Law of Motion

Introduction

Newton's Second Law of Motion is one of the three fundamental laws formulated by Sir Isaac Newton in his groundbreaking work, "Philosophiæ Naturalis Principia Mathematica," published in 1687. These laws laid the foundation for classical mechanics, a branch of physics that describes the motion of objects under the influence of forces. Newton's Second Law is particularly important because it provides a quantitative description of how forces affect the motion of objects, making it a cornerstone in understanding dynamics.

Statement of the Law

Newton's Second Law of Motion can be succinctly stated as:

The acceleration of an object is directly proportional to the net force acting on it and inversely proportional to its mass. The direction of the acceleration is in the direction of the applied net force.

Mathematically, it is expressed as:

F=m⋅a

Where:

F represents the net force acting on an object (in newtons, (N),

m is the mass of the object (in kilograms, kg)

a is the acceleration of the object (in meters per second squared, m/s^2).

This equation conveys that the force applied to an object, the mass of the object, and the acceleration of the object are intricately related. To understand this relationship, it's essential to delve deeper into each component.

Understanding Force:

Force is any interaction that, when unopposed, will change the motion of an object. It can cause an object to start moving, stop moving, change direction, or alter its speed. Forces are vectors, meaning they have both magnitude and direction. They can be classified into several types, including gravitational force, electromagnetic force, frictional force, and applied force.

Gravitational Force: The force of attraction between two masses. On Earth, this force gives objects weight.

Electromagnetic Force: The force associated with electric and magnetic fields, acting between charged particles.

Frictional Force: The force that opposes the relative motion of two surfaces in contact.

Applied Force: Any force that is applied to an object by a person or another object.

Mass and Inertia

Mass is a measure of the amount of matter in an object and is directly related to the object's inertia. Inertia is the tendency of an object to resist changes in its state of motion. The greater the mass of an object, the greater its inertia, and hence, the more force required to change its motion.

For example, pushing a car requires much more force than pushing a bicycle due to the car's greater mass. This concept is directly tied to Newton's Second Law, where the acceleration of an object is inversely proportional to its mass. A more massive object will experience less acceleration under the same force compared to a less massive one.

Read Also: Newtons' First Law of Motion-The Law of Inertia

Acceleration:

Acceleration is the rate of change of velocity of an object. It's also a vector, meaning it has both magnitude and direction. Newton's Second Law tells us that the acceleration of an object is directly proportional to the net force acting upon it. If the net force increases, the acceleration increases proportionally, assuming the mass remains constant.

For instance, if you push a shopping cart and apply more force, the cart will accelerate faster. If the mass of the cart increases (say by adding more items), the same applied force will result in less acceleration.

Relationship Between Force, Mass, and Acceleration

Newton's Second Law elegantly ties together force, mass, and acceleration. To explore this relationship, consider the following scenarios:

1. Constant Mass with Varying Force: If the mass of an object is held constant, increasing the applied force will increase the object's acceleration. For example, if a 10 kg object is subjected to a force of 20 N, its acceleration will be 2m/s2. If the force is doubled to 40 N, the acceleration will also double to 4m/s2.

2. Constant Force with Varying Mass: If the applied force remains constant, increasing the mass of the object will decrease its acceleration. For instance, if a 20 N force is applied to a 10 kg object, the acceleration is 2m/s2. If the mass is increased to 20 kg, the acceleration will drop to 1m/s2.

3. Varying Both Mass and Force: In real-world scenarios, both the mass and the force acting on an object can change. The resulting acceleration depends on the relative magnitudes of these changes. For instance, in a car, the engine's force output (force) and the car's load (mass) both influence acceleration.

Net Force and Multiple Forces:

In many situations, multiple forces act on an object simultaneously. Newton's Second Law considers the net force, which is the vector sum of all the individual forces. The net force determines the object's acceleration. If the forces are balanced (i.e., the net force is zero), the object remains in its current state of motion, whether at rest or in uniform motion (as per Newton's First Law).

For example, consider a book lying on a table. Gravity pulls it downward, while the table exerts an equal and opposite force upward (normal force). The net force is zero, so the book remains at rest. If you push the book horizontally, the net force is now in the direction of your push, causing the book to accelerate.

Applications of Newton's Second Law:

Newton's Second Law is applied in numerous everyday situations and scientific contexts. Some examples include:

1. Vehicle Dynamics: Understanding how vehicles accelerate, decelerate, and maintain speed requires applying Newton's Second Law. Engineers use this law to design engines, brakes, and suspension systems that control a vehicle's motion.

2. Space Exploration: The law is crucial in calculating the thrust required for spacecraft to escape Earth's gravity or enter a stable orbit. It also helps determine the effects of gravitational forces from other celestial bodies.

3. Sports: Athletes rely on Newton's Second Law in activities like sprinting, jumping, or throwing. The force exerted by muscles, the mass of the body or equipment, and the resulting acceleration are key factors in performance.

4. Industrial Machinery: Machines like conveyor belts, cranes, and robotic arms operate based on principles of force, mass, and acceleration. Understanding these concepts ensures precise and efficient operation.

Friction and Air Resistance:

In real-world scenarios, objects rarely move in a vacuum. They often encounter friction and air resistance, which are forces that oppose motion. Friction is the force resisting the relative motion of solid surfaces, while air resistance (or drag) is the force resisting an object's motion through a fluid, like air.

Newton's Second Law must account for these forces when calculating net force and acceleration. For example, a car moving at high-speed experiences significant air resistance, which reduces its acceleration unless additional force is applied.

Impulse and Momentum:

Newton's Second Law also relates to the concepts of impulse and momentum. Momentum (p⃗ ​) is defined as the product of an object's mass and velocity:

p⃗= m. v

The change in momentum (Δp⃗) over time is related to the applied force:

F = Δp ​​/ Δ​t

This equation indicates that a force applied over a period of time (impulse) results in a change in momentum. This principle is particularly useful in analyzing collisions and explosions.

Limitations and Modern Extensions:

While Newton's Second Law is incredibly powerful, it has limitations. It applies primarily to objects moving at speeds much less than the speed of light and in non-relativistic contexts. At extremely high speeds, close to the speed of light, Einstein's theory of relativity provides a more accurate description of motion.

In quantum mechanics, Newton's laws do not apply to subatomic particles, where probabilistic models like the Schrödinger equation are used. However, for most macroscopic phenomena, Newton's Second Law remains an essential and accurate tool for understanding motion.

Conclusion:

Newton's Second Law of Motion is a fundamental principle in physics that describes the relationship between force, mass, and acceleration. Its simplicity and wide-ranging applicability make it a cornerstone of classical mechanics, influencing fields from engineering to space exploration. Despite its limitations in extreme conditions, the law continues to provide valuable insights into the dynamics of objects, helping us understand and predict the motion of everything from everyday objects to celestial bodies.

[navybrat817]

More Than Worthy

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky wants to make you his wife.

Word Count: Over 1k

Warnings: Implied smut, fluff, happy tears, established relationship, feels, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?)

A/N: Inspired by this ask here, more of our beautiful Mr. and Mrs. Barnes. Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @saradika-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

It was an ordinary day when Bucky decided to propose to you.

He returned from a mission the day before and you welcomed him home with a smile on your face and open arms. It felt like he had been away for ages when in reality it was only a few days. It didn’t take long for him to drag you to bed so he could properly celebrate making it home to you, a mixture of pent-up energy and the need to feel you around him. Your moans of pleasure were a sound he missed while he was away, and you cried out his name so beautifully when you came. It didn’t take him long to fall over the edge with you, forever going wherever you were.

Bucky paid no attention to the time when he woke up, the sun shining through the curtains and casting a beautiful glow over your sleeping form. He took a moment to study you, the curves of your body as you faced him, the way your mouth parted slightly as you breathed. Brushing a finger along your cheek, he smiled when you scooted closer to him. He also felt a sense of pride from wearing you out the night before.

And outside forces be damned, nothing was getting him out of bed today.

You stirred once he kissed your forehead and wrapped his arm tighter around you. It took a moment for your eyes to focus before you whispered, “Morning.”

He exhaled, his heart beating faster when you smiled a sleepy tender smile. It amazed him how he fell more in love with you every day, but you made it so easy. The love you had was raw, pure, and real, a deep and lasting connection built from trust and respect, understanding and compassion. It endured and grew, going beyond the physical attraction he’d always have for you. You saw each other for who you were and valued each other fully. No matter the trials and tribulations you’d face, you’d do it together while your love endured and grew.

It was your love he thought of when he took your hand in his and gently whispered back, “Marry me.”

He heard your heart accelerate when you lifted your head. “What?” you asked, your voice still laced with sleep. Your eyes were wide open though and you wanted to be sure you heard him correctly.

He swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. Not releasing your hand, he leaned over to open the nightstand drawer and took out a box. “You told me to ask you when you weren’t expecting it and when the time was right,” he explained, facing you again. “It’s time.”

Because he didn’t want to go another day without you being his wife.

You gasped and covered your mouth when he opened the box, tears springing to your eyes that sparkled almost as bright as the diamond in the ring. “Oh, my god…”

He helped you sit up, both of you on your knees on the bed. For a split second he thought his eyes would mist over, but he kept it together. “After everything I went through, I wasn't sure if I was capable of allowing myself to be loved. I just… Part of me felt so broken and unworthy.” He took a breath, not wanting to fuck this up. It already wasn’t perfect since there weren’t flowers or a romantic dinner, but this came straight from his heart and that was enough. “But then you came along and changed my life.”

You let out a happy laugh as a tear fell, which he quickly wiped away. “I did?”

“You did, and you know it,” he smiled back. Meeting you gave him a second chance and you changed everything for the better. “You showed me that not only was I not broken but I was more than worthy of being loved.”

“You are worthy of so much love, Bucky Barnes,” you smiled.

“So are you, baby. I love you so much, and I’m a better man because of you,” he swore, taking the ring out of the box as his heart continued to pound. Simple, beautiful, eternal. “So, will you marry me? Be my wife and my partner and continue to fight by my side in life and love?”

Bucky held his breath as he waited for your answer. He wanted to give you the kind of life and love you were worthy of. He wanted to protect and stand by you, and he didn’t want to imagine life without you.

Pressing your forehead to his, you breathed the simple most beautiful word against his lips. “Yes.”

“Yes?” he asked, his next breath shaky. Was the universe messing with him again? Was something going to drag him back to hell when he had heaven right in front of him?

“Yes!” you smiled. “Yes, I’ll marry you.”

He pulled back to look at you closely, seeing nothing but love in your pretty eyes. “Are you sure? Because-”

“Mr. Barnes, put that ring on my finger so I can really call myself the future Mrs. Barnes,” you demanded, putting your hand in his face. “Please,” you added hastily.

His nose scrunched as his laughter filled the room. “Yes, future Mrs. Barnes,” he repeated. Slipping the ring on your finger, he placed a tender kiss over it. The perfect fit. “Thank you, baby,” he exhaled.

It was the only warning you got before he put you on your back and covered his lips with yours. He wanted to shout to everyone that you were going to be his wife, but he happily settled for saying “I love you” into your mouth. You breathed the words right back to him. And since he hadn’t planned to leave the bed anyway, he made love to you, your fingers laced together, the engagement ring pressing into his skin and reminding him that he wasn’t alone. That he had a future to look forward to.

He was home, holding you close, deep inside you, right where he belonged.

And he was more than worthy of love.

I love them, what can I say? ❤️ Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[saduko]

HARD TO MISS

Lando Norris x Driver!Reader 7.9K words

Summary: You had driven sick many times before, but never sick enough to retire from a race. Now Lando was worried about you and how the media was going to react. But maybe this was just about the best thing that could of happened to him. Or in which, reader gets sick during the Spanish GP race and has to face the looming media presence after retiring early with a newfound anger she's never experienced. She was a mess of emotions, acting so different, or maybe it wasn't just her being strange.

Teammates, established relationship, an unexpected surprise?? Note: this unfortunately is a re-upload because my dumbass literally deleted the post the first time I posted it despite it being up for days. Yes I'm mad, and no this isn't edited because of it.

The heat of the Spanish sun beat down on the track, the asphalt shimmering with a relentless intensity that seemed to seep through the cockpit. You gripped the steering wheel tighter, your knuckles whitening as you fought to keep your focus on the race ahead, hot, fast breaths heaving through your helmet like a symphony. The familiar roar of the engine, usually a comforting sound, felt more like a distant hum as yet another wave of nausea rolled through you.

This wasn’t the first time you’d raced under less-than-ideal conditions, but today felt different. The adrenaline that usually sharpened your senses now seemed to amplify the queasiness in your stomach, every bump and turn on the track making it harder to push the discomfort aside. You swallowed hard, trying to suppress the rising bile as you powered through another corner, the car responding to your every command despite the growing turmoil within.

The twisting and turning of the track seemed endless, each lap blurring into the next as your vision narrowed, tunnel-like, around the path ahead. You knew you needed to speak up, to let your team know something was wrong, but the words felt heavy on your tongue, weighted down by the fear of admitting weakness. But you couldn’t hold it in any longer.

"I'm not feeling very well."

The twisting and turning of the track was making it hard for you to settle your stomach enough to find your voice, but when you had, there was a long silence on the other end. Ears alert with anticipation as nothing came through, before the thick accent of your engineer, Marlow finally sounded in with a panicked voice, "Are you feeling faint?"

"Not really.” You huffed. “I feel quite nauseous though. My stomach is not cooperating."

There was a short silence through your head piece before a shuffle was heard on the other side, followed by a concerned, "Should we retire the car?"

The suggestion shakes you and a quick puff of air leaves your mouth in order to hopefully settle the turning in your stomach, though you think it might have translated more as annoyance to your team despite the intention. You couldn't help but hope it hadn't come off too harshly, however the forceful tone of your next words certainly didn’t do much to calm the idea. "No! I'm not retiring the car... No, I'm okay."

"Please love, If you can't finish there's no shame in retiring. You're not letting anyone down, we understand-!" He knew how stubborn you were and he really didn't want the question to feel like the hit to the ego he knew you would take it as, but it was hard when everyone knew this race was what was separating you from top 3 and the rest in the championship. They knew it wouldn't be that easy, quickly corroborated by the frustrated grunt you let sound through the line.

Your foot braces against the accelerator, bearing down full force as you take the straight right after corner 4 at full speed, you weren't retiring. Subjective to your own harsh perception of yourself, retiring - no matter the circumstance - was one of the most culpable failures you could commit. It was never a rewarding feeling, and whether or not to retire from a race like this was an indisputable no. Six years into the sport and you had never retired from a race on your own accord. Today would not be the first.

"I'm okay for now."

There was no arguing with a driver going over 300 kilometers an hour, and so the team let your decision chart as they sat back and kept on with their roles, no different than before. Except for one thing, noting the conversation, they all made undisclosed motions to keep an extra close eye on the driver cam.

And so the race continued as 10 laps went by, 10 very shaky laps with countless immoderate wobbles, a few oversteers around a couple corners and a very close call with Carlos who made quick work of letting the communal radio know how exactly he felt about that, words that were quickly relayed to you. Though his accent was warm, his words were anything but kind and usually you would have taken it on the chin, laughed at his profanities and apologized with a quick witty comment to follow, but your team watched as you only let out a harrowing breath and shook your head. You obviously were not on your A-game and your entire team could see that.

So with all this, it came as no surprise when the silence in their headphones was abruptly interrupted with the blaring sound of your wheels against the track, followed by your voice, quick yet strained, echoing through the radio.

"I think I'm gonna be sick, guys."

With not a moment to spare, Marlows eyebrows furrowed down at your words, worry clear in his voice as he pressed down on the radio button. And though his words were mostly phrased as a question emphasizing the choice as your own, it was still hard to miss the pleading tone in his voice as he spoke loudly into the headpiece, "Are we retiring? It’s your call, love."

Your end of the radio was silent as the words rang through your headset, though not for lack of connection as the sound of your wheels barrelling against the tar never ceased. They knew you were still there, just not vocalizing your thoughts. They had no doubt this was a tough decision. A huge part of this sport was pride; pride in your team, pride in your car, pride in your abilities. And being the only woman on the grid meant your pride was strong and the backlash was inevitably more harsh when things went wrong. 

It was already hard enough for a driver to admit they needed to back out of a race, let alone for a driver who had something to prove and everything to lose. It was a decision they knew you were avoiding complying with. You had been complaining about feeling ill for days leading up to the race and yet insisted on racing regardless. They knew this was important to you, and to back out now, after making it so far already? Your heart was strong, and your head stronger. But for this one time, it seems your stomach was the strongest, and your nausea was taking the reins of this particular race. And so you bit your lip, hoping to keep the bile from rising for just a little while longer. “I need to stop. I’m retiring the car. I can't help it.”

As disappointing as ending a race early was, your team couldn’t deny the shred of relief that washed over them as you, for once, chose your health first. As fun as racing was, and as rewarding as a race in points felt, none of it was ever worth the increased risk to your safety. They would much rather you all woozy up in the medic bay with a DNF, than halfway to unconsciousness with a p8 finish. This certainly wasn’t your best race anyways, probably one the lowest you’d been in points this season. 

As you began your way around your last lap towards the pit lane, your mind raced with all the dreadful thoughts a DNF brought, the pit in your stomach rearing into a sizeable hole which would of left you feeling melancholy if the twisting and turning hadn’t trumped the discontent. 

As each second passed, you could feel whatever it was you had eaten for lunch earlier with Lando rising higher and higher. High enough in fact, that you found it necessary to press the radio button once more with a request. “Have a bag ready for me when I pull up, please.”

To which a compliant, “Copy.” sounded suit.

It wasn’t too much longer until your orange car could be seen sweeping down the pit lane, no hesitation in your steering as you made a harsh turn into your spot by the garage door. The pit team were prepared to make haste in their actions, ready to prop your car onto the jack in order to wheel it into the garage only to be stopped when two quick hands extended up as you braced yourself up against the halo and pulled yourself out of the seat.

At this point, you were hyper aware of the all the people surrounding you, as well as the multitude of cameras pointing directly at you, recording your every move for all the judgeful eyes to see, and yet you found not a single cell in yourself which cared as you leaned over the car and called out for your assistant, who quickly met you with a large black bin in tow. 

You quickly grabbed for it, pulling your front over the side of the car as far as you could in order to hide yourself from the view of the cameras. And out it came, a slurry of lunch which you had been so looking forward to at the time, and quickly regretting now as it all escaped your stomach.

What in the world had you feeling so ill in the first place? It felt like it had been lightyears since you had felt sick enough to actually puke, and god did you not miss this feeling. Had you eaten something bad earlier in the day? Maybe. But everything you ate Lando had eaten too, so wouldn’t he be sick as well? Well, it’s not really like you could ask him, you thought as you looked up just in time to see him overtake George on the big screen. He looks a little busy. And you should be busy too.

The thought seared through your mind as you spat into the bin, you should be racing too, but at least you feel a little better now that it’s come out; though not completely. Your stomach still churned a little and now your throat burned but you guessed it was better than crashing. You had already nearly done that just by being on the track a little too long and now you were definitely going to receive an earful from Sainz when he finally crossed the checkered flag and found you inevitably moping. 

However, you quickly realized that Carlos was actually the least of your worries and the only person you really had to fear was Lando, for when he heard about the outcome of your race, you were sure to face the lecture of your life. He had been warning you for days leading up to it not to participate. You were obviously unwell and he was aware of the dangers an unwell driver faced under the taxing conditions of a race but you were stubborn, insisting you would be fine. Look at you now. Head in a bin with cameras all around and a bruised ego. 

There was only a little time now until the race ended to recover before everyone came pummeling at you with questions. 

The wheel was starting to feel heavy in his hands and the rubbing of the HANS device against his neck was really starting to hurt. They were approaching the end stretch of the race and as the last 15 laps commenced, Lando couldn’t help but feel a little relieved knowing this would be over soon. This was undoubtedly a tough race. 

From lights out till now, he’d managed to pull from P5 to P4 and had every intention of passing Lewis for a podium position, soon enough he’d be in DRS range but for the time being, he was focused on catching up. The world around him had become mute, he hadn’t even looked up at the grand screen once, all he knew was the car.

So he had almost jumped in his seat when the chime sounded. Just as he began slowing around the final corner leading up to the line for his next lap, the sound of an incoming radio signal had his ears perking in anticipation. Were they planning on pitting him again? Sure he was definitely pushing a little too hard against his tires- not really doing his best at conserving them but he was so close to a podium position and he just needed a little bit more force-

“Lando mate,” Will’s voice sounded through his ears, his tone a little hesitant which left Lando biting his lip with anticipation. Please don't box. “I’ve just been informed by Marlow that y/n has retired.”

Lando's heart nearly fell into his stomach as the words registered in his brain. You retired?! Now thinking about it, you did start only a single position behind him and he hadn’t really seen all that much of you during the race. What happened? “Did she crash?!”

“No Lando, she's okay, it was voluntary. She wasn’t feeling well, I don’t think.” 

“You don’t think?”

“She’s okay Lando, just under the weather.”

Not feeling well? Under the weather? You’d raced a multitude of times before whilst under the weather. Each time he’d advise you not to race, and each time you’d ignore him, swearing up and down you’d be fine- and to Lando’s consolation each time you were fine. You’d come out the other side with a smile, no qualms or grievances and you would save your complaints for him afterwards, when no one else was around to judge. As you had done before, he expected the same this time. You’d never let a little ailment set you back, especially not let it affect you enough to retire. Not unless it really was bad.

Lando’s thoughts were soon interrupted by Will’s voice once more, his tone dismissive, implying the conversation had reached its end and no more discussion would be had about it. “We will contact you again if anything happens.”

And despite Lando’s dismay, he complies. There were still a good 15 laps left of the race ahead and he had a lot of catching up to do, a lot of competitive driving to be had. His focus couldn’t be elsewhere, but what was he supposed to do knowing his sick fiancé has just pulled herself out of a race? What was he supposed to do when he knew you well enough to understand how prideful you could be, and how poor you had to feel to choose to retire?  

He really tries to not let it bother him. During the next lap, he tries to not let it bother him as he forces himself to look anywhere else but the jumbo screen in hopes of a possible update on your condition. He tries to not let it bother him in the lap after that as the team radios in to discuss possible strategies regarding the oncoming overtake he will perform, and he tries to not let it bother him during the lap after that one when he finally passes Lewis. Now 3 laps have passed but he just can't get the questions about you off his mind. It is bothering him. He shouldn’t be distracted, especially while he’s in a podium position but he can’t help it. 

So as he crosses onto the next straight, he finds himself radioing in with the question that had been eating away at him since the news broke. “Uh.. Any updates on y/n? Is she alright?”

There's a considerable moment of silence on Mclaren’s end of the line, the team were honestly tied on what to tell the man and what not to. You weren’t exactly in optimal condition, and word around was slightly worrisome regarding your state. You were okay, but definitely not well, they knew because they had caught the treacherous sounds of your gags a few more times since the first echoing through the mclaren garage. 

As your fiance, he deserved to know these details, but as a driver, they knew it wasn’t smart to worry him. What were they to say as to not stress him out in an already extremely stressful situation? They could tell him a few of your team members were discussing taking you to the hospital. Or they could keep him from driving the car through the wall in order to meet you there. The decision was clear, they needed him to focus on driving. “She’s okay, she's currently being looked at by the medical team.”

“She has the medical team on her?!” Will’s eyes shut hard as Lando’s reply came through. Definitely not the right choice of words.

“Just a precaution Lando, she isn’t well at the moment.”

Lando’s bottom lip catches between his teeth as he ponders his engineer's words. He finds himself over analyzing every syllable, every infliction with intentions of unpacking whatever truth was seeping between the lines, and he notices that he’s biting his cheek as he rounds the 8th corner with a little less precision than usual. “Is she bad?”

Landos team take quick note of this change in pace, latching onto the clear oversteer he performs around the corner. They quickly find themselves trying to pull away from the topic in order to keep him both figuratively and literally on track and so Will concludes the conversation with a stern tone. “Please Lando, you can see her when you're done racing. We need you to focus on the race.”

He almost wanted to curse the man out purely due to frustration despite knowing deep down that he was right. But what else was he supposed to do when he knows his fiancé is sitting in the medic bay and all he can do to support her is… well, nothing. He just has to finish this race.

Despite your protests, your team was adamant on a visit to the med bay in order to possibly come up with a reason for your sudden onset of race ending symptoms, and after a quick trip down the hall that took a little longer than usual due to your need to stop once more, you were simply told there wasn’t much they could do long term to crack the bilous case. Shocker. They did however hand you something to ease the nausea which you were beyond thankful for.

You had spent so long counting down the seconds until the anti-nausea medication kicked in that you hadn't even noticed that the race had ended, nor did you notice the approaching sound of hasteful footsteps until the door to your driver's room came barrelling open with a thud.

“I told you not to race.” Lando’s voice was so stern it had you stiff. There was a slight indication of anger lingering behind his words but ultimately his face was a dead giveaway to the worried intention etched behind his tone. 

“I thought I’d be okay.”

“You threw up?” His eyebrows came down as he said it, and you noticed it was less of a question and more as if he was trying to confirm a suspicion. Someone from your team must have snitched on you already. No damn loyalties.

“Only a little.” Your words were sheepish.

“You stink.” He deadpanned and you found yourself scoffing, slightly exasperated at the bluntness of his words. The statement had you petty with offense. 

“You don’t smell very good either-”

“-I don’t smell like vomit.”

Finally you let out a sigh, already tired of the back and forth over something so menial, and unworthy of an argument. You were sick. Shit happens. “Lando, I wasn’t feeling well and I’d been feeling it all week with no real problem so I didn’t think there would be a reason to sit this race out. I didn’t think I would actually need to pull over. It’s done now.”

There was a loud silence between the two of you as he onced over your body with intentful eyes. You seemed okay enough and he guessed this really wasn’t the time or place to start an argument, especially over something as stupid as him being worried about you, you were on the same damn side. So instead he just sighed, bit his lip and nodded at you. “Alright.”

“Guys.” Charlotte suddenly peaked her head through the cracked door to glance at you both. “Come on, we need you at Media now.”

This wasn’t going to be easy, that you knew. The media had given you a hard time for things way less than this so you could only imagine what they had in store for you after throwing up on live TV for half the world to see moments after a voluntary DNF. It just about felt like you were being led to your execution with the way you knew they were about to tear into you. But there was no avoiding this, and the grimaced look etched into your features left Lando very aware of this fact.

“I know you don’t wanna do this but you have to go out there, you’ve got no choice. Not unless you’re willing to cop a fat fine.”

You stuck an eyebrow up at Landos voice, the sides of your lips extending out as you conceptualized his words but your expression quickly had him shaking his head alongside a hearty laugh. “No, no. Don’t even look like you’re considering it.”

Your laugh to match his own soon sounded throughout the room, and his hand swiftly found its place at the nape of your neck, to which he gave a quick squeeze and began leading you out the door into the McLaren garage hallway. “We have a wedding to plan and that means a lot of money to spend. You will not be wasting money trying to get out of media duties.” You couldn’t help but chuckle at how exasperated and sarcastic he sounded.

You both found yourselves trailing along Charlotte's path until the hallway quickly opened up into a large room where a few other drivers had already begun their own separate interviews towards the camera crews which littered every corner. The media pen; may as well be your death site.

Whilst waiting for the race to end; and for the nausea to subside, Charlotte had given you a rundown - more like a lecture; regarding what to expect and how to approach the inevitably condescending questions that would soon be thrown your way. 

This was going to be brutal, you knew that. You had finally made a mistake that the male media could exploit to reinforce their stereotypes about damned women in motorsports. Just another day facing the misogyny of the position, except this time, it was your own carelessness that put you in this position. The only damned thing you’d be was a damned liar if you said the upcoming articles tearing into you weren’t already gnawing at your mind. You could just picture it;

‘’Mclaren Princess’ Just Might Throw Her Way Up and Out of Competitive Driving,’

‘Speed Queen’s Weak Stomach Shows Why She’s Better Suited for Other Races,’

‘Too Glamorous For The F1 Track? or Maybe Not Glamorous Enough; - maybe we should leave the fast cars to the men that made them.’ 

This might just be worse than the ‘Revving Engines, not Emotions,’ article from last year when you teared up in Australia after what was the most frustrating race of your career. This was going to be horrible. 

Your actions were always hyper-criticized, but maybe just once you were being too imaginative for your own good. You needed to calm down because words tended to stick with you. A fact that Charlotte knew all too well, because she was sure to speak words she knew would ring through your ears during those interviews; Take it on the chin, stay composed and certainly don't be snappy. One of those was doable.

The moment you passed the threshold beyond the doorway, officially crossing into the media pen, it's as if every set of eyes and every lens of a camera had turned to watch you move. The room hadn’t by any means gone quiet, but there was definitely a shift in volume as the noise settled from a near unbearable buzz to a tolerable chatter, just enough to notice the change. The influx of attention almost had you doubling over once again, especially when you felt the nausea begin to slowly creep up for the second time that day. But you made notable efforts to keep your head high, hoping that a strong demeanor would at least soften the blow which would soon be dealt.

Lando’s arm had split from your neck not long after entering the room. You guys were always light on your PDA, trying to keep as much of your personal relationship as private as possible; as private as an already public relationship could possibly be. But he still managed to give you a small, reassuring squeeze on the hip before you both set off, being led in opposite directions.

A flurry of reporter eyes seemed to trail your path as your personal PR manager led you to a spot right in between Carlos and Charles, and as you started setting yourself up, you unavoidably overheard their journalists trying to wrap up their interviews, which you could only imagine would be to get a shot at you faster. 

However unluckily for those journalists, it seems your first adversary had already taken the stand just directly across from you with a large, heavy mic and aged, gleaming eyes; eyes that had your own widening in alarm. You were quite familiar with this journalist, very familiar with him actually as he had always been quick to criticize you and your skills on many occasions in the past. He was quite ill-mannered towards you, definitely holding a target out with a gun aimed directly for your career, making it clear he was disapproving of your presence as a woman on this grid. You just knew he had been waiting for you. This was going to be hell.

The journalist quickly began setting himself up, the cameraman behind him pointing the lens directly at your sour face, which you admittedly were not doing a great job at masking. Though, if your interviewer had noticed, he thankfully hadn’t commented on it. However that didn’t stop him from wasting any time beginning to comment on the other mistakes you had made today.

“Always a pleasure to speak with you, Speed Queen.” His gravelly voice spat. “Though I think ‘Pit Princess’ may be a little more fitting after today's race.” A sly smirk quickly spread across his mouth, an act that had your hands bracing against the railing separating the two of you from one another. Charles had quickly taken notice of this from his position just beside you. He admittedly felt he was doing quite well at remaining professional and ignoring the exchange between you and the infamous journalist, but now he was on high alert, ears perked in your direction with the intention of intervening at any given moment.

Despite your peeved sentiment, you did well at keeping your face straight and head high at the insult, feeling it necessary to not crack in front of the person trying to get a reaction out of you. Don’t prove his point. 

“I appreciate the creativity, but I think I would prefer to focus on the race itself rather than nicknames. I’m quite happy with the one I have.” There was a moment in which he tried to intervene, however you were determined to move past the subject. “-And, you know, today’s challenges were significant, but that’s a part of the sport, I guess.” Despite the lingering nausea, you still managed to force a professional smile.

“Is it?” He curled an eyebrow condescendingly, a look which nearly had a scowl slipping past your placid facade. But instead you held strong, that sickeningly sweet smile dripping like honey with disdain. “Part of the sport is the unpredictability of it. So I’d say so.”

The man's eyes gleamed on, a small hum escaping his lips as he nodded absently. “It’s just that no other driver seems to have this issue. Do you think maybe your choice to retire has to do with particular limitations a female might have that the men in this sport don’t?”

And as expected, the indirectness wasn’t so indirect anymore, the true misogynistic intentions of his words slowly crept out with ferocity. 

“No.” Your tone was final, like it hadn’t ever crossed your mind, because it really hadn’t. “No I really don’t. Many men before me have gotten sick during races, I guess I just preferred to voluntarily take myself out of the race than spend the rest of it wiping pesto off my visor.” You snarled. 

A small tap against your arm quickly alerted you to the contention of your PR manager, a disapproving gesture silently advising you to reel it in. But god was it hard when his face was so smug. She should understand that being passive aggressive was much more admissible than being violent, so she may as well let you get your anger out in the socially acceptable way, though you admit it was strange of you to feel so angry. You were usually better at keeping your emotions in check. Hm. But alas, you complied, correcting your face and letting him speak; even if you wanted so badly to interrupt him with your thoughts of how horrible a journalist he was. 

“Well, I think a lot of people agree when I say that this sport tends to reward determination and resilience, not quitting.”

Were you hearing this correctly? Was he really implying that you should have thrown up right into your helmet and just continued through the race like nothing? It was getting really hard to remain socially acceptable. What was this new found anger? “Racing may sometimes reward resilience, however, being sharp minded is more important sometimes. I noticed I was unwell enough for it to affect my performance, so I decided it was smarter to take myself out of the race. Especially after nearly taking Carlos out of the race too.” 

Just as you finished answering the (absurd) question, a suave laugh sounded to your left as Carlos suddenly stepped up beside you, sliding his arm across your shoulder. “I did have some choice words prepared for you earlier Mija, but then I learnt what happened and now I forgive you.” His eyes suddenly turned to the journalist, a glint of exaggerated pity in relation to the topic seeping into his expression, almost as if he was speaking with experience to someone who wouldn’t understand; because he was. “Driving whilst sick is not for the weak.”

The journalist's cold eyes squinted slightly as Carlos’ condescending tone registered in his head, yet he kept his expression neutral and mic high as he nodded. “I’m sure it isn’t.” And nothing was said after that. No rebuttal, no argumentative comment, just a plea of agreement. God, how you wished interviews were that easy for you.

A few voices echoing out from somewhere behind had caught the attention of the trio, and it didn’t take long for you to realize it was Carlos’ team instructing him to move onwards to his next position. So with a reassuring smile towards you and a quick quirk of a brow towards the reporter, he was off to his next interview without another word, taking your fleeting moment of security along with him as he left.

Now it was just you and the reporter once more, and you could tell he wasn’t feeling as cordial with you as he was with Carlos, evident by the slight snarl that had crept onto his face by the interruption in your defense. “Friendly words from Sainz there, as always.” he began, his tone dripping with insincerity, “Do you find it degrading that other drivers always have to come to your defense in order to keep your positive reputation, because there are a lot of people that believe you perhaps, ride off the success of others.” 

Your stomach twisted, and if it was from the nausea growing once again or from the sheer audacity of his words, you couldn’t tell. He was essentially implying that the only reason people liked you was because other likable people vouched for you, and not because of your own hard work and valiant achievements. It seems he wanted defense, you were about to show him just how defensive you could be. 

“With all due respect,” you began, voice calm but carrying an unmistakable edge, “I don’t defend myself because I don’t have to, because the genuinity of my character extends far past my words.” you paused, thinking about your next words carefully. “My peers defend me because I’ve proven my capabilities time and time again, and they know that one incident doesn’t define my career. However, I don’t think you share the same sentiment, hm?” 

The taunting in your voice was quickly caught on by your PR manager who swiftly grabbed your arm in yet another warning, except this time you couldn’t find it in yourself to care as much. The journalist's eyes narrowed at your words, clearly not expecting such a discourteous response and the tugging of your PR manager's grip against your arm was an obvious nonverbal message to wrap it up but you weren't finished, oh no. That new found anger that had been gnawing at you all race was just beginning to trickle out.

“‘Riding off the success of others.’” Your quoted, voice riddled with humor, “And yet you somehow manage to find me every post race interview. Do you write these question’s down in your little notebook while you watch my multi-race winning car fly past you? Or do you wipe the dust from the camera lens instead?”

He quickly opened his mouth to retort, but before he could, your PR manager intervened, her grip on your arm tightening slightly as she stepped forward. “This interview is over,” she announced firmly, her voice leaving no room for argument. “McLaren will be utalizing the next few days to help Y/n recover for next week's race. If you have any further questions, you can direct them to our media office.”

Your eyes widened in shock at the intervention. You had overstepped your media training a few times before and yet none had ever led to the end of the interview. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t a little surprised at your PR manager's swift movements as she tugged you back and away from the journalist. “Let’s move on.” Her voice was disapproving but she was obviously trying to remain calm and professional, understanding there was a job to be done. But your anger wasn’t discriminatory, everyone was a potential outlet, and you weren’t having this. “No, I’m finished.” You didn’t even want to participate in media in the first place, this was obligatory. You had done your part and now you were taking charge of the rest of your night. And so you pulled your arm back and made quick haste towards the exit, leading back to your driver room. 

You were only a few meters from the door now, acutely aware of all the eyes watching you retire early from yet another obligation today, when a hand grazing the small of your back pulled you away from the tormenting feeling of the bile rising once again. This time, it was Charles, his sweet face beaming a reassuring smile at you as he began walking in stride towards the exit alongside you. “Mon cheri, that was something else.” 

You couldn’t help but scoff at his words, nausea bubbling once again, expecting yet another lecture from someone else. “If by ‘something else’ you mean a complete disaster, then yeah, I guess.”

Charles kept his tone steady, a touch of amusement in his voice as you both walked in stride. “No, I mean you handled it with a lot of, uhh.. What is the English? Poise.” 

You gave him a skeptical look. “Thanks, but it didn’t feel like handling things with poise, It felt like I was about to lose it.” 

His smile slipped into a small laugh before it fell,  and his bright eyes quickly turned into one’s of worry as he began a once over of your body. “Are you feeling okay?” he began the inevitable conversation. “I’m okay, it’ll pass I'm sure.”

Charles’ brows furrowed down, thick accent sounding with worry as he spoke. “You shouldn’t count on it passing, you should take care of yourself. You’re only gonna have more shit thrown at you if you don’t-”

As sweet as his concern was, you were tired of this conversation today, it was becoming tedious to hear and you really just needed to lie down or something. “-Charles, I really appreciate it and I'll be sure to visit the doctor tomorrow, but I think I’m gonna be sick again, so how about you cover me up to the hallway before I end up in another fight with a reporter, or my head in another bin on TV.”

Your words had Charles’s eyes widening, quickly glancing around from side to side in search of his target who was finishing up from an interview of his own, when your hand came up to press against your mouth, skin turning a tinge green. “Lando!”

The video shook a little as the person on the other end fidgeted with the camera, a slight blur shifting the image and the audio cracking with the movement before the frame finally straightened up. The person took a step back. It was you, which wasn’t all that surprising considering the video had been uploaded onto your own instagram, but it was the first anyone had really heard of you in weeks. 

Ever since your race ending ailment back in Spain, you had essentially gone radio silent. Not posting, not participating in interviews; you had missed 2 more races since then. It was worrisome, especially considering you had assured everyone the day after Spain that you were working on getting better for next week's race, which you never showed up to. 

The races went on and the fans asked about you, the interviewers asked about you too, but it seemed everyone involved in the FIA had no comment on your whereabouts nor your condition. The drivers dodged post interview questions, excelling on to new subjects and only had quick fleeting comments in response to concerned fans around the paddock who were only trying to make sense of it all.

Lando copped the brunt end of it though, scoring a P2 podium in Canada that everyone could more obviously care less about in his post-race interviews. The only topic mentioned was you, your absence from the race and why everyone was so hush-hush about it in the first place. The interviews were so off topic that this time it was Lando who had to leave the media pen early to avoid the questions, though opposingly, McLaren had been the ones to encourage his swift exit.

It was starting to become an issue. People were fretful. Were you still sick? Was it something more serious than you had anticipated and now you couldn’t race anymore?

The view they were looking at suggested that perhaps they were about to find out. 

You retreated away from the camera propped up against what people could only speculate had to be your dressing table, as you found your spot upon the large, luxurious bed the camera was pointing towards. Now cross legged upon it, your body clad in a 2 piece short silky pajama set, finally you began to speak. 

“Hello everyone.” You didn’t sound unwell, not stressed or upset. In fact, there was an edge to your voice that almost seemed cheerful; excited. And yet for now you remained composed, nothing but a small, media trained smile dawning your otherwise expressionless face.

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” The sentence was humorous, calling attention to the silence you had afflicted, and the lack of news upon your whereabouts. “Lando and I are finally home in Monaco for summer break, though I have to admit that I’ve actually been in Monaco for a few weeks now. I think some of you might feel that was a bit obvious given my absence.”

There was a high pitched chuckle off screen, it obviously being Lando out of frame as your eyes flickered over to the side with a playful yet mischievous smile, encouraging his reaction with your expression. It was a fleeting moment as your smile once again fell into something a little more vacant before straightening up and continuing. “I know a lot of people have questions, and I do want to apologize for the lack of communication on my end, I’ll explain, I promise but first I also want to say please don’t be mad at any of the other drivers for not speaking out, they were all just respecting my wishes in not saying anything until I was ready.”

There was a small pause as you took a breath, no sound emitting except for the slight breeze wafting through the room, further exemplified by the sway of the sheer curtains. This was so nerve racking, were you about to announce your departure from motorsport? Were you about to reveal a sickness you weren't aware of until now? The silence, though short lived, was deafening. 

“I-” Finally you spoke, but quickly caught it with a bite to your lower lip. It really seemed like you were processing your words, debating how to present your next statement carefully enough. “How do I-?”

Once again your gaze drifted off to the side of the screen, confused and cautious eyes quickly averting into a bright smile before a laugh escaped your mouth. “Don’t look so excited!” 

Lando, obviously beaming, clear by the tone of his voice, cheerfully yelled back, “Do you want me to say it?!”

“No!” you rebutted quickly with a laugh, “I told you I wanted to be the one to announce it, stop trying to take my shine!”

“Then go on with it!” He was so obviously really excited, impatient to finally announce whatever it was that had him so elevated.

“Okay well-” You stuttered for a moment, quickly catching yourself before continuing. “As many of you saw in Spain, I wasn’t feeling too well,-”

“-Hard to miss-.” Landos voice mumbled, a comment in which you swiftly ignored.  

“-And I hadn’t been for a few days leading up to it but I just took it as a stomach bug and planned to go on with it like usual. What I didn’t plan for however, was the doctor's visit I was forced to go to the day after.”

Your eyes glared off to the side once again, feigning annoyance but evidently not actually upset before looking back at the camera with a smile. “The good news is that we are very much aware of what was making me sick.” Your voice was reassuring, eyes slowly beginning to light up as you continued on. “The bad news is that I unfortunately will not be participating in the rest of the 2024 season, or the 2025 one for that matter.”

It was like you could feel the impending shock of everyone watching radiating through the screen despite it being pre recorded because your pause was almost comically dramatic. And yet it was so wholly conflicting, because regardless of the awful news, you didn’t really seem all that upset despite being such a passionate racer, it felt so out of character. This confusion was only exemplified further when your eyes once again drifted to the left, a large smile engulfing your features as you took notice of what had to be Lando's excited expression once more. “Oh don’t look so happy, you’re the one who still gets to race!”

“I’m sorry!” He laughed that high pitched laugh he does when he just can’t hold it back.

Your eyes flickered back to the camera, sitting straight on with a patient yet humorous smile, a single eyebrow cocked as you waited for Landos laughter to simmer. It took a moment, a moment you thought ended a time or two before he began again, but eventually the room became still again as your face grew just a little more in adoration towards the man everyone could see you loved dearly. It was like the energy had shifted just a little, from what felt so playful before, to something a little more familial and warm. 

“I think some of you may have put the pieces together, but for those who haven’t. Well… I’m pregnant!” Your smile was so big and sheepish, so conscious and just a little shy, it almost felt as if you were announcing it to a friend of many years and it was all just so heartwarming. You were okay! More than that, you were happy, and soon everyone else who would watch this video would be too. Lando's happy laugh from beyond the camera at the announcement finally being made was more than enough to express just how joyous the news was for the two of you.

“As heartbreaking as it will be to not be able to competitively race in the upcoming seasons, I’m not actually that sad about having to step down for a little.” You laughed heartily. “I proudly announce that in my place, the very talented Australian driver Oscar Piastri will be filling my position until I'm off from… maternity leave? I guess. That's a first for this sport.”  You laughed.  “But of course they just had to find the best to replace the best.” You quickly glanced over towards Lando out of frame, clearly expecting an agreement that never came. They could only imagine the disapproving look Lando was sending you.

Your expression never changed, but your tone dropped as you spoke darkly. “I’m carrying your child.” You spat, to which a loud “But of course!” sounded in response, followed by a laugh from the both of you.

“Don’t worry, you’ll still be seeing me around the track a lot considering this muppet,” you pointed to your left, “still gets to race.”

“Don’t be jealous,” the soft voice came from off screen. 

“No, I’ll confidently admit it, I’m so jealous.” You pouted, but the warmth in your eyes belied the playful tone in your voice.

Lando’s hand appeared in the frame for a brief moment, gently squeezing your shoulder before disappearing off-camera again. “We’ll be back out there together soon enough.”

You nodded, your smile returning as you glanced back at the camera, feeling a surge of excitement for what was to come. “In the meantime, I’m looking forward to supporting the team from a different angle. It’s going to be a new experience, but I’m excited to do this as…”

“-As a mother?” Lando finished with a knowing smirk.

“As a mother.” You laughed, a loud one from Lando soon sounded to match your own, one so joyous it left you beaming. Suddenly, Lando jolted in frame, clearly excited as he leaned over the bed to tackle you from your sitting position down into a hug, leaving you both falling back onto the sheets. “Oh my god Lando!” You shout, a hand quickly moving to shield your lower stomach. “God! Nevermind guys, I think Lando just tackled the baby out of me, guess I’ll be seeing you all from my McLaren in Austria.”

“Oh!” Lando gasped. “Not funny!” 

[coupsalchemy]

Flowers

prompt: Flowers

summary: your boyfriend picks up flowers before picking you up everyday.

tags: pure fluff, boyfriend! wonwoo, established relationship

word count: 764

Wonwoo looms over the bouquet of daisies, coupled with bright yellow sunflowers. The fresh scent of the flowers subsides his day’s worries, and enhances his light happy mood. He plucks the bouquet out of its water basket, heads to the old lady sitting behind the counter. “Good evening, Grannie.” 

The old lady looks up from her notebook filled with sales numbers, and stops pressing the buttons on the calculator. Her droopy eyes widen in recognition, and her toothless smile melts Wonwoo’s heart. “You came again today.” 

He nods, setting the bouquet on the counter for her to bill it. “How are your knee pains today?” He watches her shaky fingers pressing the keypad of the new billing machine. She gives up after two forceful presses. Wonwoo laughs at her cussing the new technology. 

“It’s 58,328 won.” 

Wonwoo hands over the money, picking up his bouquet, “see you tomorrow, grannie.” He bows in respect. 

She chuckles, “send my love to your lucky girlfriend. Who buys flowers everyday these days.”

He smiles in return, a red tint of color on his cheeks. He looks down at the flowers in his hands only in hopes of his girlfriend liking them. He has been researching the language of flowers, daisies means innocence, loyal love and sunflowers means adoration. Perfect flowers to translate his feelings towards her. 

“I try,” he answers, giving one last bow and exiting the small flower shop. 

He drives to the subway station, constantly checking the status of your subway, and your live location on the maps. You are almost there, he presses on the accelerator, he needs to be at the platform even before you. Your surprised happy expression is all he needs after a long exhausting day. 

Parking the car he hurries among the dry and depressed office workers navigating to their homes. The train will be at the station in five minutes, he runs to platform C, apologising and saying excuse me to the crowd, while protecting the flowers with his entire body. 

He huffs, stabilising his breathing and checks his watch one more minute. He rearranges the flowers, smoothing down the petals, his heart pounding in anticipation and fear. He adjusts his hair, pressing on his gelled hair on the side, to make sure he looks presentable. 

One minute is up, and the train is slowing down to a stop. He holds the flowers to his chest, craning his neck to see you amongst the crowd stepping down from the train. 

He cracks into a big smile, waving at your wandering gaze that’s also searching for him. You spot him, your droopy shoulders squared up, your eyes shining and there it is, the hop in your steps. A man pushes her to the side, losing her balance for two steps, and Wonwoo’s giddiness disappears for a second. 

You shake your head, and Wonwoo stops in his tracks, still glaring at the disappearing man into the crowd. His girl reaches him, holding his arm and tiptoeing to kiss on his cheek. A grin breaks his anger, he looks down at his shoes, biting on his lip. 

He extends the flowers to you. You beam at the flowers, looming over them enjoying their fresh scent among the sweaty, stinky smell of the subway station. You grab the flowers hugging it to your chest, as you brush your cheek over the flowers tenderly. 

Wonwoo grabs your waist, pulling you in, he drops a kiss on your head. “How was your day?” 

“It’s good now,” you loop an arm around him, hiding yourself in his chest, near his armpit. Wonwoo shakes his head at the weird attachment you have with that area. 

He leads the way to his car, as you search for the meaning of the flowers. He briefly glances at your phone, helping you choose the right links. 

“Innocent, loyal love?” You don’t look up from the phone. Wonwoo also drops his head to the floor, his grip on your shoulder tightening. “Adoration?” 

He brushes the pink shade on your cheeks with his forefingers. You stop, bringing him to a stop in the middle of the stairs too. You climb a step to match his height, you cup his cheeks, pressing a kiss to his lips. “I adore you too. And,” you kiss his forehead, “I love you.” 

Wonwoo’s world shakes, his knees buckling at the love he is receiving. It is worth it, driving around and gettin you flowers, if he can convey his love without words and you are proficient in reading his love language. Your love is worth it. 

[yuzujjn]

𝑓 . . ﹙ ✉️ ﹚ ATTRACTED TO YOU, loser jake ────𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝗆𝗒 𝗋𝗂𝖽𝖾 𝗈𝗋 𝖽𝗂𝖾, 𝗂 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗀𝗈𝗍 𝗌𝗈 𝗆𝗎𝖼𝗁 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗒𝗈𝗎

( 𝑓𝗍) ㅤ 𓈒 심재윤 & fem!rea 5OO ── dis skinship, kissing, petnames, loser au fluff, non idol au ୨୧ established relationship + C𝑙𝑖CK

다니 ⠀⦂⠀happy @yuons day (> <) we were talking about loser enhypen today so i was trying so hard not to spoil this . ㅠㅠ anyways LOVE YOU JUNIPONI

JAKE PUSHES HIS GLASSES UP AGAIN, fingers brushing against the bridge of his nose as he glances down at the textbook between you. he’s been explaining the same physics problem for the past five minutes, voice animated, hands gesturing in excitement as he scribbles equations onto the paper.

you, however, haven’t been paying attention.

not even a little bit.

"—so when you account for external forces, the net force is—"

you stare at him, chin propped up on your palm, watching the way he bites his lip in concentration. the way his eyes light up when he gets lost in thought. the way he occasionally pushes his glasses up when they slip down his nose.

he's so into it, so completely in love with explaining physics to you, and god, it’s cute.

"are you even listening?" he suddenly asks, turning to you with a frown.

"mhm," you hum, offering him an easy smile.

he squints. “then what’s the formula for force?”

“...love?”

jake sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “this is why you’re failing physics.”

“this is why you’re my tutor,” you shoot back, straightening up. “but you know, i was just thinking. what if we make this more fun?”

jake raises a brow. "like what?"

you grin, shifting closer to him. "one correct answer, one kiss."

he freezes.

his ears immediately turn red, his fingers tightening around his pen as he stares at you like you’ve just suggested something illegal.

"what."

"one correct answer, one kiss," you repeat, nudging his knee with yours. "i think it'll help me focus."

he blinks at you, "that… theoretically wouldn’t work."

"oh?" you tilt your head. "why not?"

"well," he starts, pushing his glasses up again—stalling. "if we consider the concept of positive reinforcement, then yes, a reward system could enhance learning, but in this case, the variable is flawed because—"

you stare.

"—the stimulus, being, um, a kiss, is too subjective to quantify in terms of effective learning patterns, and if the goal is information retention, then—"

"jake."

"—introducing an external factor like physical affection could actually act as a distraction rather than a reinforcement, so theoretically—"

you kiss him.

his glasses bump against your cheek, and he makes a small, surprised noise in the back of his throat, instantly going still.

when you pull away, he’s frozen in place, eyes wide, lips parted.

"see?" you murmur, smiling. "works just fine."

jake blinks once. then twice. his fingers twitch where they rest on the textbook, and his lips part slightly, like he's about to say something, but nothing comes out.

you bite back a laugh. "you okay there, einstein?"

he swallows, clearing his throat. "yeah.. i think,"

you grin. "so. next question?"

his ears are still red as he glances at the book, voice slightly hoarse when he says, "what’s the acceleration due to gravity on earth?"

you shrug. "no clue."

jake exhales sharply, tilting his head back like he’s trying to gather what’s left of his dignity. “i can’t believe this,” he mutters.

you grin. “come on, next question.”

[gguk-n]

could you maybe wanna write a charles x doctor!reader fanfic where charles raced while not feeling well even though you said he shouldn’t and after the race that he finished on podium he fainted? and then he was like in hospital and had surgery and then was completely high after the surgery?

thank you in advance ♥️♥️♥️

Set in Saudi Arabian Grand Prix 2024, Charles gets appendicitis but races. established relationship. Hope you like it!!

Against Doctor's Orders

It was the Saudi Arabian grand prix, only the second race in the season and Charles hadn't been feeling too well through out the weekend. Nothing too serious he thought, probably a stomach bug since he travelled so much. "Char, you look pale" his girlfriend asked through the phone. "I'll be fine" Charles responded. "You should rest" she tried to insist. "I'm good, really" Charles forced a smile. "Not convincing me. Should've been there" she sighed. "I know you would've if you could" Charles consoled. "I'll be back on Monday and you can play doctor as much as you'd like" Charles laughed. "Play doctor" she asked in disbelief before bursting into a laugh. "Take care. Good luck. If there's anything call me and take the meds I told you too, those should help with the nausea" she said. "I will Dr. Y/L/N" Charles smiled before cutting the call.

Y/N couldn't be here and part of Charles just wanted to be babied but he couldn't be since the race was in a couple of hours. He got on track and started getting everything ready for the race. "You look paler than yesterday" Fred pointed out. "I'm fine" Charles brushed him off, going over the stats before the race.

Saudi Arabian GP was one of the hottest races but since it was during the night, the weather had started to settle down. The breeze from the sea side made the pain in his lower abdomen bearable.

As the lights turned green, Charles hit the accelerator; trying to forget the throbbing pain in his stomach or the way he thought bile would come out of his mouth every time the car turned. He kept his eyes on the track and the focus on the race. He could barely swallow any water without wanting to puke so he decided to forgo any water for the race. As the final laps of the race approached, Charles was still in a podium finish, which he thought was impressive since he felt like he was going to die any moment. When the checkered flag waved and he finished third, Charles sat in the car for a moment before he could gather any energy to pull himself out; the team kind of pulled him out of the car.

He had to drag himself to get done with the formalities before the podium, unable to speak since he felt like puking and the pain in his abdomen had gotten 10 time worse. He thought his stomach was being twisted and turned every way around. At the third step of the podium, Max assisted Charles to climb up since he looked like he was in pain. "You okay" Max quickly mouthed to which Charles just nodded trying to maintain his balance. As they were about to start distributing the trophies, Charles fell forward and fainted on the podium. Having drivers with quick reflex is a good thing, since Max was able to catch him before he hit the floor unceremoniously and was taken to the medic.

After looking at him and an unconscious Charles who couldn't answer them, they had him transferred to the hospital. Y/N watched this on the TV when she was watching the race. Her heart almost stopped when she saw Charles faint and started making calls to the team. She was busy packing her stuff to leave for the airport when Ferrari informed her that Charles was going into surgery because of his appendix. She told them she would be there by the time he woke up and quickly left the house.

A couple of hours of plane ride later and post surgery Charles was starting to wake up. Y/N had rushed to the hospital from the airport and her luggage was sat at the corner of the room. Her hands were wrapped around Charles's as he began to stir. "Hey" she cooed. "HI" Charles replied groggily, surely still high from the pain meds and anaesthesia. "You're pretty" he giggled. She smiled, "You're lucky you're cute" she sighed. "You think I'm cute" Charles giggled again. "I'm gonna go get the doctor to check on you" she said letting go of his hand. "My girlfriend's a doctor. She can check on me" Charles stated. "Babe, I'm your girlfriend and I can't since I didn't go over your case" she laughed. "You're my girlfriend?" he asked shocked. "Who did you think I was?" she laughed. "The pretty girl" Charles continued giggling to himself. Y/N slipped away for the doctors to come and check on him. After the doctors checked him, making sure he was okay and recovering well; they explained everything to Y/N.

"You need to be more careful and listen to me next time" Y/N stated. Charles just nodded. "I have a pretty girlfriend" he sang. "Couple more hours before he's out of it" she sighed and kissed his cheek relieved that he was okay. "I'm sorry for worrying you" he pouted. "It's okay as long as you're okay" she smiled. "I love you Y/N" Charles smiled brightly. "I love you too Charles" she smiled back. "You'll take care of me like you take care of all your patients?" he asked. "I'll take care of you like my boyfriend. My patients don't get cuddles and kisses while they are healing" she chuckled. "They better not, I'm gonna fight them" he said trying to make fists. "Don't do that. You have a IV line in your hand" she said straightening his hand out. "OH" he said staring at his hand. "But it doesn't hurt." Charles said. "It's not supposed to" she replied kissing his hand where the IV line was attached.

A few hours later, the effect of the medicines had worn out and Charles was just on pain meds to help post surgery. Y/N had a shit ton of videos of Charles proposing his love to her and telling everyone who set foot into the room about her which did make her embarrassed but it was sweet how proud of her he was. She made him take all the embarrassing pictures he would never agree to if he wasn't loopy to use as black mail.

"I must've been a handful" Charles asked, now completely sober. "A little but I love it that way" she smiled. "Than I'll continue to be like that" he laughed before wincing in pain. "Don't laugh too much. You'll still be in pain" she reprimanded him. "I have you" he reasoned. "You'll always have me" she stated. "Sorry for worrying you" Charles apologised. "Just don't do that again. I don't think my heart can handle that" she said. "I don't think I have two appendix to do that" Charles laughed trying to lighten the mood. "Don't laugh your stitched are still only a few hours old" she said sternly. "Okay doctor" he smiled puckering lips as if he wanted to kiss her. She leaned in and kissed his lips. "je t'aime chérie" Charles said when Y/N pulled away. "je t'aime aussi bébé" she replied.

[backtothechurch]

after an argument Bob Reynolds x reader 

smut +18, minors please don't

warnings: English is not my first language, no mentions of y/n, reader genitals and genre not specified, pet names used, smut, cum denial, lil bit of sentry fucking you, sassy bob (because we know he's a sassy rage baiter hidden behind a shy demeanor) , spit/saliva kink (does that exists?), dom!bob and sub!reader

notes: it's porn without a plot, I was bored and decided to make one, hope you likes it

You and your boyfriend bob always had sex after an argument, which wasn’t often, you two had a very good and healthy relationship, even tough he was an expert on rage baiting, he loved seeing you angry and then shutting you up with a kiss or his fingers inside you. But tonight was different, he was the one pissed off this time.

It was a stupid reason, you got jealous of a stupid action, didn’t thought trough like you usually do and got bitchy with him, insinuating he cheated.

Few things pissed bob off, he was calm — he had to be calm — but saying he cheated didn’t let him calm tonight. He pounded in you like he was proving to you he would never betray you, all the frustration he couldn't express in words he was expressing by pounding on you and you couldn’t deny how you loved.

Your eyes glassy, the brick of the orgasm almost breaking. 

“Don’t you dare cum” he said, his face was pressed on your neck, that was already red because of the sucking and nipping, his right hand tangled on your hair tugging it sometimes and his left hand holding your hips bruising it, he was lifting you causing more friction on your bodies.

“Bob please” he chuckled of your poor needy state, your hands that once were holding his shoulders were loosen now, you didn’t had strength to anything.

“You won’t cum until I say so” you were moaning loud, eyes focused on his head, a few blond locks shined on his head, so you knew he wasn’t just bob this time. he lifted his face resting his forehead on yours and looking deep at your eyes, his eyes glowing golden, sentry was there somewhere you knew it, and he smirked “you’re so pretty like this” then he kissed your lips, both hands on top of your head and he slowed his pace, you were barely kissing him back, you were a mess of spit, on your neck and now on your chin. “When you apologize I can fuck you hard again and let you cum” he said between kisses, now going painfully slow.

He smirks and his face goes to the other side of your neck, his left hand now on your neck almost choking and his other hand smacking your ass.

“Bob” you whine, with a bit of strengh to hold his red shoulders from your scratches. 

“Yes baby?” His voice a fake mocking whine, you could feel his evil smile.

“Im sorry” you say at one breath, like this was taking all of your force

“For what?” He pulls almost all of his cock from you and shove it again making you scream and grip his shoulder harder. He looks at you with doe eyes, you hated how sassy he was, even without sentry he liked to test limits, specially with you, his shy demeanor gone when you brought him comfort.

You hiccup “f-for saying y-you che-eated”

“Apologies accepted” he gave you a soft wet peck on your swollen lips “I think you deserve a reward, you want it?” You nod desperate and he pulled one of your legs over his shoulder and got his accelerate pace again.

Your hands grip the pillow, you looked at him moaning loud feeling the knot on your stomach, for the way he was moaning and how his mouth was dripping saliva and his eyes shut you knew he was also closer, was when both of you summed with a loud moan, both of your legs shaking. 

He collapse on you, his whole weight over you, he hides hid face on your hair whispering sweet nothings like; “you’re so pretty”, “you took me so well” or “you’re so good at that” 

A few minutes he takes his cock out of you and wiped the wet mess on you, caressing your red inner thigh. 

“Was I too rough? I-I just was very frustrated” you smiled and shake you head.

“I liked the Dom bob, he should come over more often” Bob blushes.

“I know how you like to cum when I let you” you laugh, usually you were the one who said that so you knew he was teasing you.

He lays at your side “I’ll be more dominant more often, maybe we have a round of battling for dominance”

You rest your head on his chest “It would be nice seeing you loosing” he laugh hard. 

[1-have-no-idea]

how they kiss you: part one

Clone force 99:

character(s): Hunter, Tech, Wrecker, Crosshair, Echo

genre: fluff, romance, crack (kinda)

overview: this is literally just how the boys would kiss you. literally just that.

warning(s): Tech doesn’t know how to kiss, Crosshair is a freak, (jk, he just gets a lil spicy with it), mentioned of making out, slobber, Hunter’s a lil suave, sexual innuendos, references and implications of smut

Hunter:

-okay, but he’s such a gentleman while doing it?

-it depends on his mood really, and what the occasion is.

-Hunter doesn’t overdo kisses, but out of all of them, he is the one who probably will give the most (besides Wrecker, ahem.)

-He’ll kiss you when you wake up, when you make him food, right before he leaves, and when you go to bed.

-Unless he’s feeling a little… ahem. Y’know. A lil teasing that day

-His kisses are deep but short. Enough to make you blush but also leaving you yearning for more

-he’s a lil tease, but if you pout about it, he’ll just send you that boyish smile and give you another one

-”don’t gotta miss me that much, mesh’la,”

-yeah. That’s him..

-Hunter probably has somewhat chapped lips, (as most clones), but not to the point where they scrape yours. And they’re also somewhat thin (like most clones), so basically, they’re not that different from a regs

-except they’re a bit plushier, if that makes sense

-his stubble WILL scratch against you

-he’ll rarely give tongue unless he’s feeling a little freaky and has the intention on, well, y’know.

-”spread those legs, mesh’la,”

-yeah, y’know, the fun stuff

-so yeah.

-kisses are like a 10/10, would recommend

———————————————————————————

Tech:

-SO AWKWARD.

-sorry Tech lovers, but like. We’re talking about the Tech, the one who can’t understand or take hints whatsoever…

-a NERD.

-he’s such a virgin, smh

-but like… a subtle virgin, ykwim?

-you wouldn’t know he was a virgin. Like, you literally wouldn’t.

-until you kissed him and he expressed his shock and stated that this was an ‘interesting development.’

-”....fascinating. Do it again. This time I’d like to record the acceleration of our heart rates and the texture of your lips against mine. Allow me to retrieve my datapad–”

-yeah. Like. It’s either the most hottest thing hearing him talk all smart after the kiss or the most ‘dude, are you serious’ kinda thing.

-Tech is not really a kisser, but a pecker

-they’re not frequent, but they’re enough for you to still kinda expect them, yk?

-his kisses are chaste and respectful. Never awkward, but usually quick.

-such as, a kiss on your knuckles or your temple or hair. Tech doesn’t go for lips, but he doesn’t mind if you initiate those to him and he will depending on the mood you or him are in

-i actually like to think his lips are actually kinda soft. Not like, baby smooth, but soft.

-i don’t think he gets needy for them, but there are times where he really just wants to feel your lips on him

-he loves the texture and the warmth.

-he won’t really ask though.

-it’s more for ‘experimentation’, in his words.

-”I’d like to explore this further with you. This time, can you kiss me a little bit firmer?”

-7/10 in the beginning, but Tech learns quickly and is extremely observant, and soon learns exactly where to nip, suck, bite, lick, and kiss.

-just give him a little more lessons

-for science, of course

———————————————————————————

Wrecker:

-okay guys

-he is NOT as innocent as he looks, i’m sorry

-respectful, yeah. Gentle, yeah.

-but INNOCENT?? Yeah, no.

-have you seen that deleted scene in clone wars with the Padme art?

-”Yeah, she could negotiate with me any time!”

-erm. Guys.

-and that translates in his kisses.

-he’s not shy whatsoever.

-gentle, of course, but you want him to be rough?

-oh, he’ll be rough.

-okay, let me backtrack, so when y’all are still new to a relationship and all that, he’s nervous. Holds you like glass and kisses you like he’s unsure if he even wants to.

-he was scared. He knows he’s a big guy, and doesn’t wanna hurt you.

-but once you get to that point in your relationship with a lotta reassurance and carefulness and praise and teasing

-my man is most definitely a tank

-and packing one too– ahem.

-he kisses a lot. Anywhere. Kinda worships you with his mouth, lips, tongue and all. Take that as you will.

-his kisses are passionate. Deep. Like his love for you, but they can also be gentle. Soft.

-Large hands will come and cradle you or hold your hips in place, he loves picking you up when you kiss.

-his lips are different, they’re PLUSH. Plump, and bigger than his other brothers. Fully cushioned. It’s nice.

-”Hey! One more, baby! Miss ya already!”

-he’s actually a good kisser. Like, you’ll be starstruck

-and he’ll be giggling

-the type to be giggling and grinning into the kiss

———————————————————————————

Crosshair:

-holy. Where do I even start with him.

-he’s smooth. Annoyingly so.

-the type to kiss you to shut you up

-out of all his brothers, I feel like he gets hit on the most when he’s out and about.

-it’s just cuz he’s ‘mysterious’

-he’s actually never really interested, unless he’s feeling rather frisky and pent up

-when he’s not being angsty and emo, he’s actually low-key kinda flirty with you whenever moments like that actually do pop up.

-and you better believe, all his kisses include tongue.

-you go in for a kiss, that’s you asking for a makeout session, and if he’s feeling mischievous, he’ll tear away and walk away leaving you a breathless and yearning and hot and bothered mess.

-”So desperate for me and all I did was kiss you.”

-BULL. That’s bull. He knew what he was doing.

-there are moments where he’ll be gentle with you though. Usually when he feels vulnerable.

-others, they’re rough yanks to him. Hand on the back of your neck and slamming his lips on yours.

-tongue swiping over your bottom lip before pulling it between his teeth, soothing it with his tongue again before licking into your mouth and sucking on your tongue once or twice.

-messy and they lead to a messy bed afterwards too.

-most definitely a lil freaky

-and guess what? Despite having one of the thinnest lips, they’re baby smooth.

-wanna know why? Skincare.

-he’s obsessed with it. What a princess.

-yet he still looks sixty.

-not down below.

-definitely doesn’t feel like one.

-anywho, that’s not the topic, so he has really soft lips and knows how to use them

-WILL smirk into the kiss

-cocky bastard

-100% recommend if you wanna get laid.

-”Careful what you’re asking for, doll.”

———————————————————————————

Echo:

-my sweet baby

-i love him sm

-he’s shy in the beginning, but so gentlemanly

-his kisses really express his love for you. Every emotion, every feeling is poured out into that kiss.

-whether it be I love you, I missed you, I’ll be back, be safe, don’t be back too late,

-yeah.

-they’re deep and firm and gentle, but not timid

-he is NOT shy of his love for you

-one arm around your waist, his bionic hand cradling the back of your head, it’s so sweet

-he loves cupping your face with his flesh hand while kissing you

-he just loves the contact

-kisses are frequent, but not too

-he loves dancing with you and dipping you into a kiss.

-cliche, but Echo is an old-school romantic, believe it or not

-swaying around you, spinning you with a warm smile on his face, pale brown orbs glowing gold as he looked at you,

-”you’re beautiful,”

-and it’s a soft-spoken promise as he presses his lips to yours

-he does have cold lips, but it’s a nice feeling against your warm ones

-please pepper his cold skin with kisses, he’ll be a puddle for you and feel so loved, (and warmed up.)

-anywho, he doesn’t have that much experience, so teach him, because he’d love to learn.

-all in all, he just loves you so much–

-so sweet

-”Love you, angel. C’mere, lemme give you another one.”

[munsonify]

Hiiiii there

Can I request a Joaquin Torres x reader where maybe they're close friends, roommates or they have like a mentor - mentee relationship and the reader has developed conflicting feelings for him

Like she doesnt know if she likes him romantically or if she's just super close with him

(Optional: The reader is in her early 20s)

hiii of course!! i feel this in my bones, she is me and i am her. like that’s twin. thanks for sending this in!

a/n. i do not know how internships would work with the military/government so pls spare me lol also a VERY possible chance of a second part if people like this. here’s to hoping this isn’t a jumbled mess!

confused and frustrated - joaquin torres x fem!reader

summary. you find yourself struggling to distinguish what kind of feelings you have towards joaquin

content warnings. flufff, a little bit of angst (kinda hurt comfort feelings wise), age gap (readers 23, fresh out of undergrad), probably way too long of a backstory, kinda unintentional flirty!joaquin & touchy!joaquin (sfw), r being referred to as ‘my girl’, food, swearing, hugging. not proofread

word count. 3046

———

moving in with joaquin was one of the best and luckiest choices you’d ever made.

you started your search for an apartment near dc and john hopkins university ignorantly optimistic. surely, you thought, there would be plenty of options for a recent 4.0 graduate ready to begin her masters degree. your optimism died down within two weeks, realizing quickly how difficult this was going to be for you. there were flaws in everything you found: outrageous rent prices, horrible (or the simple lack of) amenities, potential roommates who seemed to be from the deepest pits of hell.

when you’d found joaquin’s listing up on craigslist, you were practically leaping for joy. while living with a man wasn’t the most ideal situation - something you’d learned when you’d called him, his phone number listed on the contact information-, he seemed kind enough, and tidy. it was a two bedroom apartment, and while the rent was slightly out of your price range, it was doable. especially considering how convenient it was between the university and the dc area.

when you’d signed the lease, you didn’t know he was in the air force, nor did you know the kind of connections he had. it was pure luck on your account that you’d found joaquin.

during your first week living together, you’d gotten to know each other, dropping little tidbits of your lives as you came and went from the apartment. you’d told him your aspirations one night over a shared takeout dinner, cozied up in pajamas. you were beginning your masters in global security, desperately searching for an internship in dc. you weren’t even sure where to start with it, and you were rather casual with letting him know this. it’d been on your mind, and joaquin was curious, so you spilled.

it wasn’t your intention to receive his help, despite immediately receiving it without a second thought. he’d spoken to sam, the captain america, along with a few other people, and was able to hook you up with an internship with them. joaquin practically took you under his wing from then on, and you couldn’t have been more grateful. everything about this situation made you ecstatic. you felt accelerated, accomplished, proud.

that’s how you’d gotten yourself in your current predicament, though it was incredibly unintentional. you’d began spending more time with joaquin the longer you lived with him. some of it had to do with your internship. you were working with the air force, and a good bit of what you did was with him. he showed you the ropes of what he did, both as an air force captain and as the falcon. other times it was casual roommate things: movie nights, quiet conversations in the kitchen, late night snack runs.

you got along with him well, you respected him and admired him, his hard work something you strive to meet. you had your time away from him, you had university classes to attend and new friends you’d made since you’d moved here. still, you came back to joaquin and your apartment, forcing yourself to face something you’d been shuffling away from.

you might possibly, maybe, have feelings for him. the situation was complicated, you were conflicted.

at some point along the way, you found yourself becoming excited to see him, to come home and tell him about your day. you wanted to tell him about the little things, like the cute dog you’d passed on the street one morning, or the sweet new coffee place you wanted to visit. you wanted to spend time with him, to be close to him and enjoy his company. and sure, these were things you could feel towards a friend. a platonic friend. still, you were conflicted. was it the close proximity? all the time you’ve spent together getting to your head?

this is what you were tossing over in your head one morning as you lightly jabbed at your morning cereal, head hung low, body slouched. you weren’t inexperienced, you’ve had a boyfriend before, you were aware what romantic attraction felt like. despite that, you were still abundantly confused. platonic and romantic attraction, you found, had a bit of a blurry line between it.

your body tenses the moment you heard the bathroom door open, the floorboards of your apartment squeaking under joaquin’s feet as he enters the kitchen. distracting yourself, you scoop a spoonful of cereal into your mouth, chewing slowly. you fight back a choke when he enters the room, freezing momentarily at the sight of him. there he was, damp hair, low hanging shorts, shirtless, and all too casual.

this wasn’t abnormal, you’d grown a bit comfortable around each other. with what’s been on your mind, however, it caught you off guard. your eyes lingered at his torso for a moment or two before they glided up to his face. luckily, he didn’t catch on, his head turning to look at you the moment your eyes drifted to his. joaquin gave you that large grin of his he always has on his face. his hand found your shoulder as he passed you to find the cabinets, squeezing in a gentle, friendly way as he bids you a good morning.

you normally wouldn’t think twice about that, either, your mind once again drifting to your conflicting feelings. you swallowed it down as you greeted him back, turning your head to offer him up a small smile. with his back turned to you, he rummaged through the cabinet until he found coffee grounds, beginning the process of making himself a pot. your eyes lingered there, too, only briefly.

turning back to your cereal, spoon poking at bits of it through the milk, your mind began to turn again. the way you admire him like that certainly wasn’t friendly. heat prickled at the tip of your ears and the apples of your cheeks at the mere sight of his bare skin, tanned and toned. you needed to get yourself together, to compose your thoughts before you combust right then and there.

the next few days were strenuous for you. with two lengthy essay due for your courses by the end of your week, most of your focus was turned to that. even though you prepared for and began these essays in advance, your life was busy, especially with your internship. though grateful for the opportunity, you were pleased to have these three days off to focus on your coursework. you holed yourself up in your room when you weren’t in class.

that didn’t stop you from thinking about joaquin and your little situation while you attempted to fall asleep. it infuriated you that you couldn’t understand your feelings for him. you’re both friendly people who just so happen to live together. you couldn’t tell how that deep running respect and admiration you had for him was manifesting inside of you. you enjoyed and appreciated the close bond you’d grown with him. a part of you feared that if that if it was more than just that close friendship you felt for him and wanted from him, that it would ruin what you had.

you settled your mind on that last thought for the time being. that this friendship you had, the bond you’d made with joaquin, was something you needed to hold close to you. your second thoughts had to have been nothing. you were searching for something in him that you should, realistically, be finding elsewhere.

that sentiment kept your body and mind at ease throughout the remainder of your time working on your essays. between joaquin’s job and your schoolwork, you didn’t get a chance to even see him (despite living in the same apartment), let alone speak to him. it made things a lot easier on you.

after you’d finally finished your work up friday night, you granted yourself some well deserved tv time. sure, you could go out with some friends, drink and have fun. after the weak you had, though, you wanted nothing more than to curl up on the couch with a blanket. that’s exactly what you did, and that’s exactly how joaquin had found you when he’d gotten home.

he pushed himself clumsily into the apartment, his keys jingling in his hand, the rustling of a large takeout bag in his other. you pulled your head up from the armrest of the couch far enough to glance over at the front door, peeling your eyes away from your intriguing show. there joaquin was, toeing off his shoes and tossing his keys to the kitchen counter. he smiled wide at the sight of you, watching you perk up excitedly, your eyes shining over at him.

“there’s my girl,” joaquin beamed, sliding the bag off his shoulder and setting it to the ground. after grabbing two cold beers and a bottle opener, he began his way to you, beelining to the empty spot on the couch. “feel like i haven’t seen you in forever. i got us dinner!”

there goes your brain again, whirring up like a rickety old machine as he nonchalantly speaks to you. you tucked your feet away to give him space, situating yourself to sit upright on the couch. he sat down right down next to you, the coffee table in front of you becoming your dinner table for the might.

“you’re the best,” you told him, beginning to take out the white boxes of rice and noodles. out of the corner of your eye you could see him opening up your bottle for you and setting it aside. “those papers nearly kicked my ass this week.”

“they didn’t stand a chance,” joaquin told you, fishing out plastic silverware as he opens up one of his own respective boxes, quick to dig in. “not against you.”

he always had a way with making you feel nice. everything he told you had the sweetest sentiment to it, even if you were talking about metaphorically fighting a writing assignment. what had been settled in your mind was now being kicked up a little, dust particles floating in your mind now as you thought. the way joaquin spoke to you made your heart flutter, even if he wasn’t meaning to. it was the sincerest of praises, they always were, and it came so naturally out of his mouth. that left you a little dumbfounded.

with a box of noodles in your hand and a fork in the other, you leaned back into the couch, drawing your vision away from him and to the television. you still spoke to him, though. you’ve seen the show before a million times. you could practically quote the entire thing.

“you’re right, i totally made it my bitch,” you confirmed, a small cheeky smile on your face. joaquin huffed out a small laugh as he leans back with you, legs spreading open a little as his vision drifts to the tv, too. your jaw clenched as you caught sight of his parted legs, his knee right near yours. if you moved just a few inches to the side and you’d be touching.

your grip on your fork was a little tight, something you were almost too late on noticing. it was close to snapping underneath your fingers. you wished you weren’t so tense around joaquin, and you wished he’d stop making it worse on you.

“we got some new tech in yesterday,” joaquin told you. you didn’t quite understand some of the things he and sam used, though it was intriguing nonetheless. “i can’t wait to show you tomorrow.”

thats exactly what he’d done.

after the two of you ate and spoke together well into the night, you parted ways to your respective bedrooms for the night. you thought in bed about joaquin again, eyes open and staring up at the dark ceiling. you thought about how he called you ‘his girl’, how he seemed so excited to see you just like you were him. luckily, exhaustion took over your body before you could worry yourself all night.

the next morning, bright and early, you and joaquin headed out together for the day. the first thing you did on base was head over to the new equipment and tech he was so eager to tell you about. sam was on base, too, walking around with two of you. you listened to them both eagerly and intently as they spoke. joaquin took over the conversation, and sam let him have it, his clear passion pushing him to the head of the explanations.

at some point, joaquin needed to excuse himself, running off to assist someone. that left you and sam, who’d began tapping away at a computer in search of something. hardly looking up, he spoke to you all casual. “you’re super obvious, you know that, right?”

“what do you mean?” you asked, an eyebrow cocking at his words. you sat yourself down in a rolling chair beside him, spinning yourself around to face him. you earned yourself a glare from the man, a look of slight disbelief etched on his features.

“the way you look at joaquin? like you’re in love with him or something? it’s obvious.”

“what?” you croaked out, a look of horror washing over your face. you sat up a little at his words, arms crossing over you chest. “sam i’m not in love with joaquin.”

“you’re a horrible liar,” he told you, eyes not even leaving the computer this time.

okay, sure, you admired joaquin. he was one of your closest friends, someone you could rely on, someone you cared for deeply. and sure, you may or may not have romantic interest in him, you still weren’t certain. that didn’t mean you were in love with the guy.

“i’m not lying,” you told him, your voice breaking slightly. cause you weren’t. to your knowledge, you were not in love with him. your nexts words came out in a low tone, just above a whisper. it surprised you a little, a worry you didn’t quite stumble upon until it was said. “it doesn’t even matter anyways. he wouldn’t go for me. i’m a little younger than him.”

you weren’t sure why that was your defense and not that you two were simply friends. you weren’t even sure where that idea came from. leaning back in your chair, you kept your arms crossed over your chest, seemingly sulking. you thought about what you said briefly, and it was true. there was a nearly 10 year age gap between the two of you. it wasn’t the worst, but it wasn’t the most favorable, either. there were a lot of girls closer to his age who weren’t still earning their degree, even if you were working towards a masters. the thought of this bummed you out a little, something you didn’t get to dwell in for long.

“again, horrible,” sam insisted, finishing up what he was doing on the computer. he turned to face you properly, his eyes scanning your practically pouting face and your slightly hunched body. you weren’t sure if he had more to say or not, the conversation was cut short by joaquin’s presence. sam gave you a knowing look before the day continued.

he was no help to you. the entire rest of the day was spent with joaquin bouncing around the base together, practically attached at the hip. sam split halfway through, claiming he had other things to attend to. and, despite how much grievance he’s caused you, you were upset he was going. it left you with joaquin and your string of never ending thoughts.

it was clear that you were nervous and in your head. joaquin noticed the way you shifted on your feet more than usual, your mind, despite trying to focus, so clearly drifting elsewhere. he didn’t say a word about it, not for a long while anyways. you two finished up for the day, and he finally drove you guys home. even during the car ride, he stayed silent about it. it was best to ask about it in the apartment, somewhere you could retreat to. somewhere that wasn’t so enclosed and cornering.

the moment you’d entered the apartment, eyes a little heavy, joaquin began making his move to question you in the most careful way he could think to do.

“have you been doing okay?” joaquin asked you. while you were en route to your bedroom, your shoes already off and on the shoe rack, you stopped in your place. he looked awfully worried when you turned to him. his eyebrows were knitted together, a small frown on the same mouth that usually smiled at you, wide and welcoming. “it’s just that you seemed a little off today. like something’s bothering you.”

you nodded at him as you thought. you couldn’t tell him what was going on, not when you could hardly explain it to yourself. it was too complicated, too messy to bring up. the last thing you wanted was for him to be dragged into it, too. not until you had your feelings sorted.

“i’m okay,” you lied through your teeth, folding in on yourself a little. joaquin began walking towards you, and as much as you wanted to step back, you let him continue his way to you. “i’ve just had a long week, ya know. it’s starting to weigh on me.”

the second half wasn’t a complete lie. yes, you were tired. yes, you had a long week. that wasn’t the only thing bearing down on you, and you thought that, possibly, joaquin could see through that. he nodded along with you, though, finally reaching you. wrapping his arms around your shoulders, he tugged you into a warm hug, one you couldn’t help but melt into. you leaned into him, arms wrapping around his waist in a gentle embrace. with your head resting on his chest, joaquin whispered to you.

“i’m always here if you need someone to talk to,” he reassured. you nodded against him, pulling him a little closer on instinct. you knew you could, you knew you could trust him with anything. just not this, not now, not yet.

besides, when joaquin treated you like this, so soft and caring and careful, how could you not be a little confused?

[avelera]

I actually really love Mel/Jayce/Viktor as well as Jayce//Viktor and I actually think the show has a couple scenes that lend to a poly interpretation of the three of them (Mel and Jayce both literally handling Viktor’s crutch between them while talking about how much they care for him, hello?? The subtext writes itself) but I found myself staying focused on just Jayce/Viktor at first because it’s a bit simpler to write and because as much as I LOVE the implied moments of their intellectual, ambiguously romantic threesome, I’d need more of Mel and Viktor interacting to really close the loop for shipping it in my mind. As it is, it feels a bit more “This is Mel’s boyfriend, Jayce, and Jayce’s boyfriend Viktor” that Mel still cares about and respects mostly from afar.

I also think that Viktor and Jayce kind of left their relationship at “we’re partners in every sense of the word, why define it further?” And that definition maybe included romantic and sexual moments (at least for fic writer purposes lol) but the fear of losing the amazing working relationship they had, which is so rare in the academic world, kept them from seriously “defining” it as anything official on the person front, which allowed Jayce to take up with Mel without it being “cheating”.

Throw into that the rapid advancement of Viktor’s illness and I can easily see a scenario where Viktor didn’t force the issue and indeed, was happy to see that Jayce had someone else who loved him in his life, knowing he didn’t have much time left and it would take a miracle to save his own life. Basically, I don’t see Viktor as jealous of Mel as a person, even if he was wary / resigned towards Jayce’s political career and would have rather have had him in the lab more often.

There was a happy medium there, I think, where Jayce was happily balanced between the two of them without jealousy from either that the accelerating events of S1 basically prohibited as the crises began to unfold, forcing Jayce into the conflict with Zaun, and Zaun had always been a point of miscommunication and later tension between Viktor and Jayce. An inevitable one I think, since Jayce couldn’t possibly know what it was like to grow up there, and in the course of their work it probably only rarely came up and so wasn’t daily addressed until the crisis made it an ugly conflict between them.

Anyway, I’m mostly just rambling as I think my way through how I write Jayce and Viktor in the fic I’m finishing up. But mostly I wanted to make the point that I see Jayce’s relationship with Mel as real and important and not “getting in the way” of his relationship with Viktor indeed, Viktor and Mel at least seem mature enough to navigate a poly relationship and Jayce has a lot of love to give (he loves SO MUCH guys I’m emotional about it, he’s just a good kid who ended up in a shitty complex situation that went way over his head. Bro didn’t even know if his school OFFERED military history, he was such an easy target and this is why STEM kids need an introduction to liberal arts I swear).

I don’t think S2 is headed towards any sort of unambiguous happy ending for the three of them but there’s definitely a happy AU in my heart where the three of them make it work and are better together than just two out of the pair.

[theambitiouswoman]

You’re not just lying to others—You’re lying to yourself (and making your brain age faster)

We think of lying as something we do to protect ourselves from consequences or to spare someone’s feelings. But what if the person you deceive the most is yourself? Self deception is one of the most dangerous habits because it keeps you trapped in cycles of avoidance, stagnation, dissatisfaction

You may not even realize you’re lying to yourself. It happens in subtle ways, saying that you are fine when you are really struggling. Saying you will do it later, when you know you wont. Saying you don't care when you actually do. Saying its just how you are, when growth is possible

These lies feel harmless but they create a false reality where change feels unnecessary or impossible. We do it as a defense mechanism. Facing the truth might mean confronting things you are not ready to yet, so it’s easier to believe: that you are indeed too busy to pursue that goal instead of saying you are scared of failing. That a relationship is fine even though you are drained and unhappy. Saying you don't need help instead of admitting you are struggling

Every lie you tell yourself delays your growth. It keeps you stuck in unfulfilling jobs, relationships and habits. The longer you deceive yourself, the harder it is to break free. Honesty isn’t just about telling the truth to others—it’s about being real with yourself.

Self deception isn’t just a bad habit—it rewires your brain in ways that make change even harder

Your brain hates contradictions. When your actions don’t align with your true thoughts or feelings (e.g., saying you're happy in a toxic relationship), your brain experiences cognitive dissonance—mental stress that forces you to justify the lie instead of confronting the truth.

Each time you repeat a lie to yourself, your brain reinforces it. Neural pathways strengthen around the false belief, making it feel more real over time. This is how excuses and limiting beliefs turn into deeply ingrained mental patterns

Ignoring your real emotions weakens the prefrontal cortex (responsible for rational thinking) and over activates the amygdala (fear center). Which leads to anxiety and stress, emotional numbness, bad decision making

It shuts down introspection. Instead of asking, “Why do I feel stuck?” you convince yourself everything is fine. Over time, this blocks growth and keeps you trapped in unhealthy patterns because your brain has to work harder to maintain a false narrative, so by using more energy it begins to impair memory recall, reduce mental clarity and increase decision fatigue

Basically, by making a habit of lying you accelerate brain again which means: Increasing cortisol (stress hormone), which can damage the hippocampus (memory center). Weakening neural connections due to mental exhaustion. Reducing neuroplasticity and making it harder for the brain to adapt and learn

The solution is radical self honesty

Notice when you're avoiding the truth Write out your real thoughts without filtering Challenge false beliefs with evidence Prove to yourself that change is possible

Truth heals. Lies keep you stuck

Start asking yourself the hard questions. What are you avoiding? What scares you? Your emotions are signals, not inconveniences. Write it down. Journaling forces clarity. Hold yourself accountable. Take action. The only way to break free from self deception is to prove to yourself that you can change and build a life on a foundation of truth. The sooner you stop lying to yourself, the sooner you can create the life you truly want

[obiwansito]

made by ourselves

read on ao3 ʚĭɞ masterlist

pairing- obi wan x f!reader

word count- 2.8k

summary- after babysitting padme and anakin's twins, obi-wan and you discuss the possibility of having children. and the fun part, making them.

tags- smut (+18 mdni), breeding kink, cockwarming, order 66 didn't happen, fluff.

a/n- happy late mother's day!!! i posted this back in my (failed) kinktober on ao3 and figured it would be a good moment to post it here lol. enjoy<3

You had talked about this not so long ago with your fiancé.

You were both in bed, after a tiring day taking care of Luke and Leia, Anakin and Padmé's four-year-old children. The couple had decided to take a day off, and the two of you volunteered to babysit the little devils while their parents rested on a nearby vacation planet.

You had taken the children to the meadows of Naboo, where you had a picnic.

Luke was calmer, listening to everything you told him and eating quietly at your side. It was obvious that he was very much like Padmé, his beloved mom. He told you about his latest adventures with his Aunt Soka, and all that his dad was teaching him about the force.

On the other side, there was Leia. A very mischievous and playful little girl, and really, really stubborn. She had Obi-Wan running all over the meadow, laughing and teasing. Her personality was a mirror image of Anakin.

You had laughed when your fiancé finally sat back down next to you, his hair disheveled and his breathing accelerated from exhaustion. Leia didn't look worn out at all, and she pulled Luke - who groaned but followed her anyway - to show him some flowers she had found.

Obi-Wan had seen your smile looking at those beautiful children, and he didn't miss the opportunity that night to mention it.

You were lying next to him, your head on his bare chest, tracing little shapes on his abdomen. He stroked your hair, inhaling the scent of your shampoo. “ Dear?”

You looked up, finding a smile on his face. “Yes, love?”

“Have you thought about having children?” your heart jumped at the sudden question.

Had you thought about having children? Absolutely. Since you were still in the order, the war wouldn't start and you were assigned to take care of the little younglings. Those intelligent little ones, who made you laugh with their tenderness and affection. And when you had begun to be with Obi-Wan, those desires had increased even more. But at that moment, it was practically impossible. Your relationship was secret and prohibited by the Jedi Code. The good thing was that you had decided to take a step back from that life four years ago now, and you could now have a normal life.

“The truth? Yes.” You sighed, feeling a warmth in your chest. “I think it's always been one of my biggest dreams.”

“I saw the way you looked at Luke and Leia today.”

You laughed softly. “They're wonderful little guys.”

“And...wouldn't you like to have your own?”

You looked into his eyes, your heart racing. You could feel in your bond that he was nervous. “Obi-Wan. What are you implying?”

He sat up in bed, trying to hold back his smile. “Today, when we were playing with the children... I could feel your excitement. Your maternal instinct. You... you'd make a great mother, my dear.” You blushed a little at his praise. “And obviously, I've always known that. But now I realized...we're not in the order anymore. We can be free, darling.”

He took your hand, helping you sit on the bed beside him, his eyes sparkling with excitement. “We can start a family. Have a baby. Just ours.”

Your breath hitched as you listened to his plans. A family. Just of you. Obi-Wan, you, and a little baby. It sounded perfect.

“My love...” You didn't know what to say. You rested your hands on his cheeks, drawing him in to bring your foreheads together. “It's... everything I've ever dreamed of. Nothing would make me happier than to have a family with you.”

Obi-Wan laughed excitedly, grabbing you by the waist to join your lips in a slow, soulful kiss. Wanting to convey to you everything he was feeling at this moment.

He took you in his arms, letting you straddle his lap. You rested your hands on his cheeks, enjoying the feel of his beard against your skin.

When you had to separate for lack of air, you pressed your foreheads together, trying to calm your breathing and giggling like two little kids. You were so excited. Your eyes were sparkling with anticipation. He couldn't wait for the moment when you would be with a round belly, full of life that he had helped you create.

“As much as I'd like to start trying to create a baby now,” he began, gently caressing your waist over the t-shirt you were wearing. “The kids wore me out. Kriff, Leia's a little monster. No one's made me run that hard since Anakin was a kid.”

You laughed, leaving a small kiss on his lips. “Hopefully, I can tell you that maybe our child won't be as troublemaking as Ani's.”

“Mmm... I'm not sure about that. I'll have to ask Master Plo what you were like as a little girl to confirm that.”

You gave him a little tap on the shoulder. “Oh, no. Don't even think about it.”

In the end, in between teasing, you ended up sound asleep in each other's arms.

You were truly living your dream. You were free at last. Nothing was perfect, obviously. But at least you had each other, and the world could know of your love. That was the most important thing.

Almost a week passed, you had both been busy with your jobs and household chores, but today was the day. You had planned a special evening with your beloved, and it would end with both of you in bed.

You prepared Obi-Wan's favorite meal, and made Meiloorun cake for dessert. You dined while you chatted lightly. Your gazes constantly connected, full of complicity and laughter.

When you finished, he got up to pick up the dishes and gave you a kiss of thanks. “That was delicious, darling. Thank you so much. However... I should ask, what was the occasion? Not that we need one to enjoy an evening together, but you understand.”

You laughed, nodding. “Yes, I understand. And... It's a surprise.”

Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow. “Oh, yeah? And when do I get to find out?”

You stood up, stroking his beard. “Soon.” You stood on tiptoe to kiss him, he tasted of the wine you'd had at dinner. You bit his lower lip before pulling away and winking at him. “When you're free, come see me in our room.”

And off you went, leaving him with his mind a mess. Kriff, better hurry. He washed the dishes at full speed, making sure everything was in order to finally go to the room.

His heart was beating like crazy, he was trying to decipher something with your force bond but you were hiding it very well.

He opened the door, his breath hitching as he discovered your expected surprise.

You were lying on the bed, red lingerie adorned your body. And upon it, his Jedi robe. You smiled seductively at him, motioning for him to come closer.

Obi-Wan walked towards you slowly, as you rose, kneeling on the bed. He grabbed your waist, his eyes devouring you. The fabric of your bra was semi-transparent, and he could feel your nipples erect with excitement.

“So? What do you think?”

“You look... perfect.” He whispered, his gaze riveted on your beautiful body. His hands caressed your hips, your waist, moving up until his thumbs caressed your breasts, making you moan slightly. “Where did you get the cloak?”

“It was stored in an old box.” You shrugged. “I remember how much you used it...” Your breath hitched at the warmth of his hands on your body.

You posed your arms around his neck, pulling him close for a wet, hungry kiss. His tongue entering your mouth, tasting you.

You rose fully off the bed, now standing next to him, his big hands massaging your ass. Your hands worked on unbuttoning his shirt, pulling you apart to give him kisses on his neck. He moved his head aside to give you more room, feeling his cock harden from the way you were devouring his neck.

You shed the cloak, leaving only the small lingerie covering your body. You kissed him once more on the lips, smiling at him before kneeling in front of him, your eyes never leaving his. You were now level with his growing bulge. You licked your lips, eager to have his cock in your mouth.

Obi-Wan blushed, running his hands through your hair. “You know you don't have to, my dear.”

“But I want to. Let me please you, Obi-Wan."

He exhaled sharply, his eyes darkened by the lust he was feeling at that moment. Seeing you so excited to have him in your mouth brought out something inside him that was hard to control. “All right, baby. Do it.”

You unbuckled his belt, dropping his pants. Obi-Wan's cock was hard in his briefs, the fabric wet with pre-cum. You licked your lips, pulling down the last remaining piece of his sturdy body, freeing his erect member.

It was large, not gigantic, but longer than most. And wide, wide enough to have you begging him to have it all in you. You took it between your hands, stroking the tip with your thumb, filling your hand with pre-cum to lubricate it. Obi-Wan squirmed under your touch. You laughed a little, moving your hand slowly over his length. You brought it to your mouth, sucking on the glans and releasing it with a pop.

Obi-Wan gripped your hair a little firmly, but not that firmly because he didn't want to hurt you. “Stop teasing.” You looked up, searching his eyes. He was breathless, his mouth slightly open. It was a beautiful sight.

You lowered your head down his entire length, taking him slowly until you had him all in your mouth, his tip almost touching the beginning of your throat. Obi-Wan moaned slightly, which made you stir slightly, your center soaking wet.

You pulled back, licking his entire length and tip, as you moved your hand up and down masturbating him.

“Darling-” He murmured as you took him again with your mouth, making him let out another sigh of pleasure. “You're doing so well, love.”

His grip on your hair grew tighter, your lips wrapping deliciously around its full length. He was getting impatient, and you loved that.

He began moving your head up and down, using you for pleasure, all the while whispering praise. “That's my baby. You're doing it perfect. Yes... It feels so good.”

Obi-Wan was not shy. He moaned openly, enjoying your mouth. You closed your thighs, trying to cause friction on your needy clit.

You felt his breathing quicken, his orgasm was coming. “Oh, Maker. Kriff, Darling, I-” You moaned against his cock, his hand guiding your head. “Wait-”

He pulled you roughly, his cum splashing on your face. The sensation and the sounds they made excited you more, as you tried to catch your breath.

You stood there for a few seconds with your breathing quickened, processing what had just happened. Then, Obi-Wan knelt down in front of you, taking your face in his hands. “My dear. Are you all right? I didn't mean to be rough with you.”

You laughed lightly. “Don't worry, love.”

“You were amazing. That was... Maker. That was perfect, love.”

He scooped up the cum on your face with his thumb, resting it in front of your lips. “Open up, darling.”

You obeyed immediately, savoring his scent. You closed your eyes, sucking on his finger. Obi-Wan let out a whimper at this. “Shit.”

He grabbed you in his arms, tossing you gently onto the bed and perching on top of you. “This is just beginning, my dear.”

He kissed you again, slower this time, tasting his essence on your mouth. You moaned slightly, his hands roaming all over your body, knowing it even better than his own.

He unfastened your bra with agility, freeing your breasts and attacking them with kisses and nibbles, his growing erection brushing lightly against your wet pussy.

“Shit.” You whimpered, stirring under his big body. You needed him. “Love, please. I need you.” You whispered.

He looked down at you, chuckling slightly at your desperation. “I must get you ready first, my dear.”

He moved his hand down to the strap of your panties, wrapping it teasingly around his finger as you grew increasingly impatient.

His thumb lightly rubbed your center, eliciting a whimper from you. “So wet for me.”

He finally got rid of your underwear, spreading your legs for him.

“That's it, gorgeous.” He stroked your clit, moving his finger in small circles. Your hips moved involuntarily, seeking more friction. “You like it, hm?”

“Yes...” You murmured, closing your eyes at such a long awaited touch. He proceeded to kiss you again, while stimulating your clitoris with his hand.

His middle finger slipped inside you, making him gasp at the ease. “Shit. You're ready for me, aren't you, darling?”

You only moaned in response, wanting more.

He began to move his finger, pulling it in and out of your pussy, faster and faster as your moans increased.

He increased another finger, opening them like scissors to expand you further and prepare you for him.

“Oh- Kriff. Obi-Wan, please.”

“Please what?”

“I need your cock... Please.”

He laughed a little at this, leaving a small kiss on your neck. “You want my cock, hm? You want me to fuck you until I breed you? Stuff you with my cum until I make you a baby?”

You moaned in surprise. You weren't used to your fiancé using such dirty words. But you couldn't deny that you loved it. “Yes... Please. Fuck me. Breed me.”

Obi-Wan grunted at this, withdrawing his fingers and taking his cock, rubbing it lightly at your entrance.

“Maker. Just- Do it.” Your murmurs were interrupted as you felt his cock impaling you, filling you almost completely.

He used his knees to rock, ramming you again and again. All you could hear were the wet sounds of your bodies coming together, and your moans.

You wrapped your arms around Obi-Wan's back, kissing him again, your tongues tasting each other.

Your nails dug into his back as you felt his cock at your sweet spot, your legs trembling and your breathing was ragged as you moaned audibly. “Oh... Maker- Yeah, right there. Obi-Wan...”

Obi-Wan just whimpered in response, his head in the hollow of your neck, leaving kisses and nibbles all over the place. Your pussy was contracting perfectly against his cock, and it was making him feel closer and closer.

The thought of the possible outcome of this night, your pregnant, round-bellied fruit of his love, was turning him on that much more, murmuring praises to you.

You began to feel a warmth in your abdomen, growing more and more. Your orgasm was coming.

“Love... I'm-I'm close.”

“Me too.” Obi-Wan murmured into your neck. “Let's come together, darling. Let me breed you.”

You nodded, his voice trying to resist being enough so he could release you.

Your orgasm felt like fireworks in your chest, the pleasure taking over and building as you felt Obi-Wan's hot liquid filling you.

You pressed your foreheads together, trying to recover together. He tucked a lock of your hair behind your ear, smiling at you. You could feel your legs shaking, your pussy throbbing from the recent pleasure-fest.

“That was amazing. You were amazing.”

You laughed lightly. “You were amazing. We've been together for so many years, and I don't think I've ever heard you talk so dirty.”

Obi-Wan blushed, pulling out of you with a whimper, and falling down next to you. “Yeah, about that... I'm sorry. I got a little carried away. If you don't like it, I understand and-”

You interrupted him, resting a finger on his lips. “Hey, hey, love. You were fantastic. I've never seen that side of you before, but I can't deny I loved it.”

He just smiled, shy but pleased. He'd make a note for future times. “I hope this works.” He brought his hand to your abdomen, stroking it lightly.

“So do I. In fact, I checked my calendar. I'm ovulating right now, so the odds of it working are pretty high.”

Obi-Wan kissed your forehead. “Let's hope it does. And if not, we can keep trying, right?”

You laughed, rolling over until you were on top of him again. “That's right. What's more... I'd like to start from now.”

“Let's get on with it.”

Many rounds later, you were both absolutely exhausted.

You woke up the next morning, completely sore in your core. You looked around, you were on top of Obi-Wan, who was sleeping peacefully. You raised your eyebrows in surprise when you noticed something very peculiar. Your fiancé's cock was still in you. You really must have been exhausted.

You lowered yourself off him with a groan, your hips aching. You felt sticky, you felt traces of dried cum running down your legs. But you would worry about that later. Now you just wanted to go back to sleep in your fiancé's arms.

© obiwansito, 2024. reposts, copies and translations are not allowed. my work cannot be used for training AI.

[vancodependent]

I might get dogpiled for this but I have this particular view of Silco that I must share: I think he is fundamentally a pathetic person. I am a certified Silco lover, and this quality of his is actually central to my affection for him, and in this essay I will explain why:

Silco is a twisted and warped person because of a lifetime of abandonment and cruelty. We know that before the bridge, he was already relatively closed off with an acerbic, sarcastic sense of humor. We know that when Vander tried to kill him, a mad scientist at the fringes of society was the one who saved him from dying of infection, most likely through a series of painful experiments. When we saw him in the cannery, his only allies were aforementioned mad scientist and the chembarons that he openly loathed.

All of this to say, we never saw Silco with a genuine friend other than Vander and Felicia. If he had other family or friends at one point, they all abandoned him after the man he called his brother tried to kill him. Can you imagine how he felt, early on after that happened? The only person he’d ever really trusted left him permanently disfigured. And then that person dismantled and crushed every inch of progress Silco had made towards his lifelong dream, Zaun. And THEN this person was embraced by and treated as a beloved pillar of the community for his efforts. Silco could not have been rejected by society in a more literal or total way. The damage that this did to his sense of self worth and trust in others was irreversible.

Sevika was loyal to his cause, and I think there was genuine respect and admiration between them, but it was a business relationship. At that point in his life, I think he was already too emotionally stunted to form any kind of real attachment to another adult.

What we see with Jinx is that he desperately craved a family but was unable to create a healthy one. He absolutely loved Jinx, but he was far too traumatized to effectively parent her. I personally disagree with the characterization of Silco as a cold manipulator that saw Jinx as a weapon, because in his lived experience it was completely rational to assume that no one was trustworthy and everyone would abandon her. The parallel to his falling out with Vander when Vi yelled at her for throwing the hex crystal could not be more on the nose. 

Silco had a tendency to re-open his old wounds again and again until they were so scarred over that he could tell himself nothing hurt anymore. That worked for him because he’d never had anyone he could trust, but it splintered Jinx’s reality because she did grow up with people who loved her. The paranoia that drove her insane was actually pretty sane for his worldview.

Silco, to be clear, absolutely did evil things. He mutated and tortured Deckard, a child who was probably just another undercity castoff (and that in particular kills me, because I think he re-enacted some of his own traumas on Deckard). He also pumped shimmer into the streets of his own community to accelerate his revolutionary plans. He even told a grieving mother that he would have had her child killed in retaliation for her actions. And although he grew to love Jinx, he could only understand her insofar as he saw a mirror of himself. 

Ultimately, he was capable of compartmentalizing the suffering that he caused because he believed it was for the greater good of his nation. There’s a streak of narcissism in that logic; he felt he had the right to sacrifice his own people for his ideals, and he didn’t care if they believed in his mission or not. In fact, he knew in no uncertain terms that the community whose independence he was fighting for by and large did not think that his cause was worth the price he forced them to pay. That makes his actions paternalistic at best, and retributive at worst. Of course, he would never say that he wanted to punish his community for what they did to him, but I think it leaked out subconsciously through his actions.

But what makes him pathetic and not just evil is that underneath those twisted, gnarled feelings, was a broken man who just wanted to be accepted. When Vander tried to kill him and the community rallied behind him, Silco could have easily written the Undercity off as a whole. It would have been much easier for him to join the chembarons in enriching himself with no regard for the people who left him for dead. And if all he wanted was to get back at Piltover, there were much more direct ways to do that as well. But there was something inside of him that refused to give up on Zaun.

Silco’s emotional maturity is stunted, but he has an inherent sense of justice, and I respect him for that because the world did its damndest to beat it out of him. Beyond that, his loyalty to the cause of Zaun speaks to a deep desire to be re-welcomed into his community. He really is the perfect example of the old saying, a child who is cast out from his village will burn it down to feel its warmth.

Something that Arcane really beats us over the head with is that morally grey people with the best of intentions can cause unspeakable evil. Silco is very much a product of his circumstances, and while that doesn’t excuse his actions, it does make him deeply human.

[astra-ravana]

During A Lunar Eclipse

The total lunar eclipse on the night of March 13-14, 2025, will be visible across the Midwest. During totality (1:26 AM - 2:31 AM), the Moon will take on a reddish hue due to Earth's atmosphere filtering sunlight.

Lunar eclipses are powerful celestial events that carry deep spiritual and magickal significance. They represent a time of transformation, endings, revelations, and deep shadow work. This guide explores the mystical potential of lunar eclipse magick, including its meanings, best practices, spells, and rituals.

Understanding the Magick of a Lunar Eclipse

Astrological and Energetic Influence

• A lunar eclipse occurs when the Earth moves between the Sun and the Moon, casting a shadow over the Moon. This symbolizes the veiling of emotions (the Moon) by external forces (the Earth) and the light of consciousness (the Sun).

• Eclipses are seen as moments of fate, bringing hidden truths to the surface.

• They mark a time of release, transformation, and karmic cycles closing.

• The astrological sign in which the eclipse occurs influences the type of energy being released.

Why is Lunar Eclipse Magick Different?

• Unlike regular full moons, lunar eclipses are highly unstable energetically, making them unsuitable for typical full moon rituals (such as manifestation and charging tools).

• Instead, they are ideal for banishing, shadow work, endings, spiritual transformation, and ancestral work.

• Eclipses accelerate spiritual evolution, so spells and intentions cast during this time may have rapid and intense results.

Preparing for Lunar Eclipse Magick

Set Your Intentions Wisely

Since the energies of a lunar eclipse can be unpredictable, take time to reflect on what you truly need to release or transform. Ask yourself:

• What patterns or emotional wounds am I ready to face?

• What cycles in my life are ending?

• What do I need to purge to make space for new growth?

Create a Sacred Space

• Cleanse your space with smoke (sage, palo santo, mugwort) or sound (bells, singing bowls).

• Dim the lights or use candles to reflect the shadowy energy of the eclipse.

• Set up an altar with items related to the Moon (silver objects, lunar crystals like moonstone and selenite, bowls of water).

• If working with deities, ancestors, or spirits, invite them with offerings (wine, honey, incense, or symbolic items).

Ground and Protect Yourself

• Meditate for a few minutes to center yourself.

• Visualize a protective shield of light surrounding you.

• Carry or place grounding crystals like black tourmaline, obsidian, or hematite nearby.

Lunar Eclipse Rituals and Spells

Shadow Work Ritual (Best for Inner Healing & Self-Discovery)

Needed:

• A journal or piece of paper

• A black candle

• A mirror

Instructions:

Light the black candle and sit in front of the mirror. Gaze into your own eyes, asking: What truths do I need to face? What parts of myself have I been avoiding? Write down the thoughts and emotions that arise. After journaling, say,

"Under the shadowed Moon, I embrace my hidden self. May I heal, grow, and transform."

Blow out the candle, thanking the eclipse energy for its lessons.

Banishing and Cord-Cutting Spell (Best for Letting Go & Breaking Attachments)

Needed:

• A piece of paper

• A black string or cord

• A candle (black or white)

• A bowl of saltwater

Instructions:

Write down what you want to release (a habit, fear, toxic relationship). Tie the black string around the paper, symbolizing your attachment. Light the candle and say,

"By the power of this eclipse, I release what no longer serves me. The past is gone, the future is mine."

Cut the string with scissors or burn the paper, then drop it into the bowl of saltwater. Dispose of the remnants outside to finalize the release.

Ancestral Connection & Divination (Best for Seeking Guidance & Wisdom)

Needed:

• A photo or object of an ancestor/spirit guide

• A candle (blue or white)

• Tarot or oracle cards

• Mugwort or rosemary incense

Instructions:

Light the candle and incense, inviting your ancestors to join. Meditate, focusing on their presence, and ask for guidance. Shuffle and draw tarot/oracle cards with the question: 'What message do my ancestors have for me?' Record any insights, dreams, or emotions that come through. Thank your ancestors, leaving an offering if desired.

Moon Water for Releasing (Best for Cleansing & Emotional Healing)

Unlike regular full moon water, eclipse-charged water is best used for cleansing rather than charging magical tools.

Instructions:

Place a bowl or jar of water outside during the lunar eclipse. Whisper into the water,

"Absorb the power of transformation, cleanse all that is old."

Use this water later for ritual baths, washing hands after shadow work, or sprinkling around your space for energetic cleansing.

What NOT to Do During a Lunar Eclipse

• Avoid manifestation or charging crystals. The chaotic energy can create unintended effects.

• Do not perform love spells or attraction rituals. Eclipse energy is about endings, not beginnings.

• Refrain from making drastic life decisions. Emotions run high, and things might appear differently after the eclipse.

• Don’t ignore your emotions. If deep feelings arise, acknowledge and process them rather than suppressing them.

Post-Eclipse Integration & Grounding

After the eclipse, you may feel drained or overwhelmed. Here’s how to rebalance:

• Take a Ritual Bath: Use Epsom salts, lavender, or rosemary to cleanse residual energies.

• Journal Your Experience: Write down any emotions, visions, or messages you received.

• Eat Grounding Foods: Root vegetables, herbal teas, and nuts help stabilize your energy.

• Spend Time in Nature: Walking barefoot on grass or meditating outside aids in grounding.

• Rest and Reflect: Eclipse energy lingers for a few days, so give yourself time to process.

Lunar eclipses are portals of deep transformation, offering opportunities for profound inner work. By approaching them with respect, intention, and awareness, you can harness their power for spiritual evolution, healing, and release.

[miss-vanta-likes-to-write]

Speaking of colleges what abt Simeon x graduating reader. She’s graduating from Yale law or smth and doesn’t have much support from her family bc of their outdated views on how women should be/ act like .So Simeon shows up to her graduation to support her? Sorry I just love fluff omg

Sorry this took so long, and this was written with moments of me being lucid, lol. I like how it turned out. Thank you for trusting me to bring this to fruition.

Pairing: Simon x Reader

Title: And you came? Just for me?

CW: None fluff

It had been a long time coming, four years plus the two year accelerated law school, and you're finally done. What should be a day filled with happiness settled in your bones as dread. Your family, while they sent you off to school, did so with the idea that you would be getting your Mrs degree. So when you ended up with a bachelor's instead of an eligible bachelor, they were dismayed. They spent a good deal of money on your sorority dues, making sure you got into the right rooms and parties and charities with handsome young men. Your sister was able to do it, and she didn't even stay long enough to complete a two year degree. Which was great for her because it's what she wanted. She wanted to be a kept wife and mother, and you were happy for her.

The night before, your mother fussed and complained that the best parts of your twenties were wasted, and thirty was fast approaching. With a career in the way, how could you get married and have children? No man wants a career oriented wife or a woman who makes as much or more than him.

They would be distraught over your boyfriend and his background and his work. You met him during one of your internships. Your focus was on international law, and your professor had recommended you to work under his brother's law firm that dealt with government law and the wonderful world of war crimes. It was an operation that accidentally became public, and your mentor was assigned to work with some fancy task force to help clean up the various crimes they committed.

He was tall, broad, brooding, and had an air of danger about him. While everyone else had made themselves friendly and approachable, he was steadfast, not wanting to talk or be bothered. He made you angry at first. He broke treatises, caused mayhem, and for what, the good of the world? So when your mentor, tired as she was, tried to get him to recount his version of events, he didn't. You blew up at him and slammed your files onto the table. Shouting that the least he could do was pretend to care about true justice and doing right by the law and that he would be no better than the terrorists he fought if he couldn't answer to a judge and try to justify his actions.

Since that outburst, the brooding man, who told you to call him Simon, had been a constant in your life. He lived his life hard and fast, mission after mission, but always finding time for you and some how a relationship blossomed. It started off with coffee outside of his and his team's barely visible court case. Then, it turned into nights at a bar quietly chatting away in the darkness of the booth towards the back. Somehow, Simon ended up wriggling into your time and days even after the court case was closed, and he and his team acquitted (which almost didn't happen but your mentor either knew people or was just that good or it was a sham case to cover up something else).

Before you knew it, Simon had said "I love you" even though the timing was off. He was getting ready for a deployment. He'd be gone for a minimum of six months, and he wasn't sure about the success rate of him coming back in one piece. Still, he said those three words to you over the video call. His honey brown eyes looked at you as if you were the center of the world. He had said that he loved that you were smart, beautiful, and had a firey passion for bringing the dark to light, and that was what you had done to him. Each smile you gave him, each stolen kiss before he had to leave your side, all of it made him feel like he was standing in the sunlight. He even admitted that he was too scared to confess to you in person.

You didn't care because you loved him too. He was a constant presence in your life. Someone who wasn't a mentor that saw you for you. He wasn't your backward and complicated family that saw you for only bettering the family line. He made you feel like you were doing the right thing, following your dreams.

That was seven months ago. He warned you that he wouldn't be able to talk while he was gone. You hoped and prayed that he was surviving whatever trials he was in. Meanwhile, you were in the middle of graduating, doing your best to ignore the hurt that your family didn't come to see your achievement. There was nobody in the crowd to shout your name at the small ceremony. No flowers or anyone to take your picture.

The speaker had called your name, and to your surprise, you hear shouts and hollers. You look over into the family and friends seating section and see Simon and his team. There's him, Price, Kyle, and Johnny. Johnny has a poster board up that has your name with atrocious writing on it. All of them are still dressed in what you assume to be their field clothes without being fully kitted up. Simon had forgone his balaclava for a black medical mask, but he still had that imposing black eye paint around his eyes. All of them looked raggered and tired, but happy to see you walk across the stage.

After the closing ceremony, you book it towards Simon. You're not even sure how he's here! He's supposed to be in a gun fight somewhere. He said sorry on the last call for not being able to make it, already planning to make up missing this milestone.

His arms stetch out, and he catches you as you throw yourself into him.

"You came!?" You pressed yourself into him. He smelled like gunpowder, and whatever else he probably hastily freshened up with. You didn't care, he was here! "You really came Simon!"

He hushed you and moved his mask so he could press his lips to your head. "It was a tight margin, but I couldn't miss the love of my life's achievements."

Extra

They had just barely touched down on friendly soil before Simon was rushing everyone into the truck. Price had managed to get their flight redirected to the nearest airport close to his Bird's college. What was supposed to be an hour and a half drive was about to be done in 45 minutes because in two hours his girl would be walking the stage. With the way the mission went, you would have thought Simon was the captain leading it instead of Price.

(Price had joked that this would be the mission that makes Simon a Captain, and then he could retire and let his boys run loose in the world.)

"Si! Are ye even goin' tha speed limit!?" Johnny shouted as the truck swerved through traffic. He was holding on to the little grab bar by the window for life.

Kyle was doing his best to write a good message on the poster board. "We should have gotten a police escort!"

"Ghost we aren't gonna make that light!" Price shouted.

Simon took it as a challenge and pressed hard on the acceleration. The four of them flew through the yellow light just as it turned red.

"She's got nobody there to watch her cross that stage Cap." He was calm on the outside, but on the inside, he was sweating. He was gonna surprise his love, come hell or high-water.

[blackkatmagic]

Been haunted by "Fox, who's never had a relationship with anyone who isn't an identical genetic copy of him--" for a couple days. WHAT A WILD LIFE EXPERIENCE TO HAVE

I feel like the SW fandom in general kind of overlooks how fucking weird the clones are. As people and just. as a concept. It's so weird okay. Obviously I love them, but that is nearly a billion identical genetic copies of some random dude Dooku picked off the street, and now they're the collective armed forces of this entire galactic Republic because no one else had a standing army, and who were all raised on a planet with no dry land, packed into training facilities and sleeping in metal tubes in the wall, suffering puberty at super double accelerated speed, with no actual role models outside of a scant hundred mercenaries who maybe interact with one or two of them, actually interacting only with all the other identical genetic copies. Like. that's weird, right???