#Elements of Mechanical Engineering

[nas-does-engineer]

I think I just watched Jonny fall to his death. It was his own fault for as he seemed to be arguing with Au.

[little-p-eng-engineering]

The Importance of Discrete Element Modeling (DEM) Studies and What Problems It Can Solve

In today's rapidly advancing world of science and engineering, the need for accurate and efficient simulation tools has never been greater. One such tool that has gained significant prominence in recent years is Discrete Element Modeling (DEM). DEM is a numerical technique used to simulate the behavior of granular materials, such as powders, grains, and particles, on a microscale level. This modeling approach has proven to be invaluable in a wide range of industries, from pharmaceuticals to civil engineering. In this article, we will explore the importance of DEM studies and delve into the various problems it can solve, demonstrating its versatility and impact across diverse fields.

I. Understanding Discrete Element Modeling (DEM)

Before we dive into the importance of DEM studies, it's essential to grasp the fundamentals of Discrete Element Modeling itself. DEM is a computational technique that simulates the behavior of a large number of individual particles. Each particle is treated as a discrete entity and follows specific rules and interactions with other particles. These interactions are governed by various force laws, including contact forces, friction, and collision dynamics. By tracking the motion and interactions of these particles over time, DEM can provide valuable insights into the behavior of granular materials.

DEM Fundamentals

At the core of DEM lies the discrete nature of particles. Unlike continuum-based methods, DEM models materials as a collection of individual particles, each with its own properties and interactions. These particles move within a virtual space and collide with one another, creating complex dynamics that mirror real-world granular materials.

The essential components of a DEM simulation include:

Particles: These represent the individual grains or particles within the material.

Interactions: DEM defines the rules governing how particles interact with each other, including contact forces, friction, and restitution coefficients.

Time Integration: DEM calculates the motion of particles over discrete time steps, accounting for forces and interactions at each step.

Boundaries and Constraints: The simulation environment often includes boundaries and constraints to model specific scenarios accurately.

DEM Applications

The versatility of DEM has led to its adoption in various fields and industries. Some notable applications of DEM include:

Geotechnical Engineering: DEM is used to study soil mechanics, soil-structure interactions, and landslide prediction.

Pharmaceutical Manufacturing: DEM helps optimize drug formulation, tablet compression, and powder flow in pharmaceutical processes.

Mining and Minerals Processing: DEM is employed to understand the behavior of ore materials during crushing, grinding, and transport.

Food Processing: DEM studies can improve the design of food processing equipment and optimize the handling of food particles.

Civil Engineering: DEM is applied to simulate granular materials in construction, such as concrete mixing and soil compaction.

Powder Technology: In industries like powder metallurgy and ceramics, DEM assists in optimizing powder compaction and sintering processes.

Now that we have a fundamental understanding of DEM, let's explore the significance of DEM studies and the diverse range of problems it can solve across these industries.

II. The Importance of DEM Studies

DEM studies have become increasingly important in various fields, offering valuable insights, solutions, and advancements. Here, we will delve into the significance of DEM studies by examining the critical problems it addresses across industries.

Geotechnical Engineering

a. Soil Mechanics

In geotechnical engineering, understanding the behavior of soils is paramount for infrastructure design and construction. DEM studies provide insights into soil mechanics by simulating the interaction between soil particles under various loading conditions. This allows engineers to predict soil settlement, shear strength, and bearing capacity, all of which are crucial for designing stable foundations for buildings, bridges, and other structures.

b. Landslide Prediction

Landslides pose a significant threat in hilly and mountainous regions. DEM can simulate the movement of soil and rocks on slopes, aiding in landslide prediction and risk assessment. By analyzing factors like particle size, shape, and cohesion, DEM models can help identify areas prone to landslides and develop mitigation strategies.

Pharmaceutical Manufacturing

a. Tablet Compression

In the pharmaceutical industry, tablet compression is a critical process in drug manufacturing. DEM studies help optimize tablet formulation by simulating the compaction of powder blends. By varying particle properties and compaction conditions, researchers can predict tablet properties like hardness, friability, and dissolution rate, leading to improved drug formulations and reduced development costs.

b. Powder Flow and Mixing

Powder flow and mixing are crucial steps in pharmaceutical manufacturing. DEM models can simulate the flow of powders through equipment like hoppers, silos, and blenders. This enables the identification of potential flow problems, such as segregation or arching, and the design of equipment modifications to enhance powder handling and mixing efficiency.

Mining and Minerals Processing

a. Crushing and Grinding

In mining and minerals processing, the efficient comminution of ore materials is essential for resource extraction. DEM studies simulate the crushing and grinding of ore particles in crushers and mills, allowing engineers to optimize equipment design and operating conditions. This leads to improved energy efficiency and increased mineral recovery rates.

b. Material Handling

The transport of bulk materials within mining and processing facilities can be challenging. DEM helps analyze conveyor belt behavior, chute design, and transfer point performance. By studying particle trajectories and interaction forces, engineers can minimize material spillage, dust generation, and equipment wear, ultimately reducing operational costs.

Food Processing

a. Mixing and Blending

In the food processing industry, achieving uniform mixing and blending of ingredients is critical for product quality. DEM simulations of mixing processes help optimize equipment design and operating parameters. By visualizing particle distribution and movement, manufacturers can ensure consistent product quality and reduce waste.

b. Powder Handling

Powder handling in the food industry can be complex due to the diverse properties of food powders. DEM studies assist in designing equipment such as pneumatic conveyors and feeders. By predicting powder flow behavior and potential issues like segregation, DEM helps ensure the efficient and hygienic handling of food ingredients.

Civil Engineering

a. Concrete Mixing and Placement

In civil engineering, the proper mixing and placement of concrete are essential for constructing durable structures. DEM can model the behavior of concrete constituents, such as aggregates and cement particles, during mixing and placement processes. This allows engineers to optimize concrete mix designs and construction techniques, leading to improved performance and longevity of concrete structures.

b. Soil Compaction

Achieving adequate soil compaction is crucial for road construction, embankment construction, and foundation preparation. DEM simulations can replicate the compaction process, considering factors like soil particle properties, compactor geometry, and dynamic loading. Engineers can use DEM to optimize compaction equipment and procedures, ensuring the desired level of soil compaction is achieved.

III. Challenges and Advances in DEM Studies

While DEM has proven to be a valuable tool in addressing various problems, it is not without its challenges and limitations. Researchers continue to work on improving DEM techniques and expanding their capabilities. Let's explore some of the challenges and recent advances in DEM studies:

Computational Intensity

DEM simulations involving a large number of particles can be computationally intensive and time-consuming. To address this challenge, researchers have developed parallel algorithms and utilized high-performance computing clusters to accelerate simulations. Additionally, advancements in graphics processing units (GPUs) have significantly improved the efficiency of DEM simulations.

Particle-Particle Interactions

Accurately modeling complex particle-particle interactions, including adhesive forces and agglomeration, remains a challenge in DEM. Recent research has focused on refining contact models to better capture these interactions, allowing for more realistic simulations of cohesive and adhesive materials.

Scale-Up and Scale-Down

Scaling DEM simulations from laboratory-scale experiments to real-world applications can be challenging due to differences in length and time scales. Researchers are developing multiscale modeling approaches to bridge this gap, enabling more accurate predictions in practical engineering applications.

Integration with Other Simulation Techniques

In some cases, it is necessary to combine DEM with other simulation techniques, such as Computational Fluid Dynamics (CFD) or Finite Element Analysis (FEA), to study complex multiphysics problems. Integrating DEM with these techniques and developing robust coupling methods are active areas of research.

Calibration and Validation

Calibrating DEM models to match real-world behavior and validating simulations against experimental data are crucial for model accuracy. Researchers are developing techniques for parameter calibration and validation, including advanced imaging and tracking technologies for particle characterization.

GPU Acceleration and Cloud Computing

As computing power continues to advance, the use of GPUs and cloud computing resources has become more accessible for DEM simulations. These technologies enable researchers and engineers to perform more extensive and detailed simulations, opening new possibilities for problem-solving and optimization.

Machine Learning and AI Integration

The integration of machine learning and artificial intelligence (AI) with DEM is a promising avenue for advancing the field. These techniques can aid in data analysis, model parameterization, and real-time decision-making in DEM simulations.

IV. Conclusion

Discrete Element Modeling (DEM) has emerged as a powerful and versatile tool for simulating the behavior of granular materials in various industries. Its ability to address critical problems in geotechnical engineering, pharmaceutical manufacturing, mining, food processing, and civil engineering has led to its widespread adoption and continued development.

DEM studies have provided engineers and researchers with valuable insights into the behavior of granular materials, enabling them to optimize processes, design equipment, and make informed decisions. Despite its challenges, ongoing advancements in computational methods, particle interactions, and multiscale modeling are expanding the capabilities of DEM and enhancing its accuracy.

As industries continue to evolve and face new challenges, DEM will likely play an increasingly vital role in solving complex problems and driving innovation. Its integration with emerging technologies like machine learning and AI holds promise for further enhancing its capabilities and broadening its application areas.

In conclusion, Discrete Element Modeling stands as a testament to the power of computational simulations in shaping the future of science and engineering. Its importance in solving real-world problems cannot be overstated, and its continued development promises to revolutionize the way we understand and manipulate granular materials in the years to come.

V. The Capabilities of Newton DEM Software

In the realm of Discrete Element Modeling (DEM), the choice of software is paramount to achieving accurate and insightful simulations. One software package that has gained recognition for its capabilities and versatility in solving complex granular material problems is Newton DEM Software. In this section, we will explore the unique features and advantages that Newton DEM Software offers in the context of DEM studies.

High-Performance Simulations

Newton DEM Software is renowned for its high-performance capabilities. It leverages advanced algorithms and efficient parallel processing to handle simulations involving a vast number of particles seamlessly. This makes it suitable for tackling large-scale industrial problems, such as those encountered in mining, pharmaceuticals, and construction.

Comprehensive Material Models

One of the standout features of Newton DEM Software is its extensive library of material models. It provides users with the flexibility to simulate a wide range of granular materials, including various shapes, sizes, and properties. This enables researchers and engineers to model materials accurately, whether they are dealing with cohesive powders, irregularly shaped particles, or even mixtures of different materials.

Advanced Contact Mechanics

Accurate modeling of particle-particle interactions is crucial for DEM simulations. Newton DEM Software employs advanced contact mechanics algorithms to precisely capture complex interactions, such as rolling, sliding, and friction. Additionally, it allows users to define custom contact models, ensuring that simulations closely mirror real-world behavior.

Multiscale Modeling Capabilities

Newton DEM Software recognizes the importance of bridging the gap between laboratory-scale experiments and practical engineering applications. It offers multiscale modeling capabilities that enable users to perform simulations at various length and time scales. This flexibility is particularly valuable when dealing with materials that exhibit different behaviors under different conditions.

Coupling with Other Simulation Techniques

Many real-world problems require a multiphysics approach, combining DEM with other simulation techniques like Computational Fluid Dynamics (CFD) or Finite Element Analysis (FEA). Newton DEM Software supports seamless coupling with these techniques, allowing users to investigate complex interactions between granular materials and fluid flows or structural elements.

User-Friendly Interface

Usability is a key consideration in software tools, and Newton DEM Software excels in this regard. Its user-friendly interface streamlines the simulation setup and visualization processes, making it accessible to both seasoned researchers and newcomers to DEM. The software provides an intuitive environment for defining particle properties, boundary conditions, and analysis parameters.

Visualization and Data Analysis

Newton DEM Software offers robust visualization and data analysis tools. Users can visualize simulation results in real-time, enabling immediate insights into particle behavior. Additionally, the software provides tools for post-processing and data analysis, allowing users to extract valuable information from their simulations and make informed decisions.

Integration with Machine Learning and AI

To stay at the forefront of technological advancements, Newton DEM Software has embraced the integration of machine learning and artificial intelligence (AI). Users can leverage these capabilities to enhance their DEM simulations, from automating parameter tuning to making real-time predictions based on simulation data.

Scalability and Cloud Computing

Recognizing the growing demand for scalability and accessibility, Newton DEM Software is compatible with cloud computing platforms. This facilitates the execution of resource-intensive simulations on remote clusters, reducing computational bottlenecks and accelerating research and development efforts.

Comprehensive Support and Training

Effective use of DEM software requires proper training and support. Newton DEM Software provides comprehensive training materials, documentation, and customer support to assist users at every stage of their simulations. This ensures that users can leverage the full potential of the software and achieve meaningful results.

Incorporating Newton DEM Software into DEM studies enhances the capabilities of researchers and engineers, enabling them to tackle increasingly complex granular material problems across a spectrum of industries. Its combination of high-performance simulations, advanced contact mechanics, multiscale modeling, and integration with other simulation techniques makes it a valuable asset for those seeking to push the boundaries of DEM.

In conclusion, the capabilities of Newton DEM Software exemplify the ongoing evolution of computational tools in solving real-world problems. Its user-friendly interface, extensive material models, and support for multiscale modeling and coupling with other simulation techniques empower researchers and engineers to explore the behavior of granular materials with unparalleled accuracy and efficiency. As industries continue to advance, Newton DEM Software stands as a reliable and indispensable tool in the realm of Discrete Element Modeling.

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Little P.Eng. for Discrete Element Modeling (DEM) Services: Unveiling the Power of Simulation

Little P.Eng. for Discrete Element Modeling (DEM) Services

Tags:

Artificial Intelligence

Discrete Element Modeling

Mixing

Geotechnical Engineering

Granular Materials

DEM Studies

Simulation

Particle Interaction

Pharmaceutical Manufacturing

Mining

Food Processing

Civil Engineering

Soil Mechanics

Landslide Prediction

Tablet Compression

Powder Flow

Crushing

Material Handling

Concrete Mixing

Soil Compaction

Computational Intensity

Particle-Particle Interactions

Multiscale Modeling

Machine Learning

GPU Acceleration

High-Performance Computing

Newton DEM Software

Contact Mechanics

Cloud Computing

Validation

Bulk Material Handling & Processing

Engineering Services

Located in Calgary, Alberta; Vancouver, BC; Toronto, Ontario; Edmonton, Alberta; Houston Texas; Torrance, California; El Segundo, CA; Manhattan Beach, CA; Concord, CA; We offer our engineering consultancy services across Canada and United States. Meena Rezkallah.

[purinfelix]

Franco Colapinto, where his girlfriend gets jealous of his interviews, so she does everything to make him jealous in return.

a taste of his own medicine ⋆.ೃ࿔*･- franco colapinto

summary: you've had enough of your boyfriend's shameless flirting during interviews, and hatch a plan to get back at him for it w/c : 1.3k

a/n: AAAA this is such a cute idea anon - i wrote a good chunk of this a while ago but only just finished the last bit today, thank u for the req and i hope u enjoy !! <333

You wondered if your boyfriend could feel the stone-cold glare you were giving the back of his head from your spot in the VIP lounge - though if he could, he surely wasn't doing anything about it.

Initially, there hadn't been any problems with keeping your relationship secret - in fact, it had been your idea for a number of reasons. You just didn't consider yourself ready to be swarmed and scrutinised by the media or have the title of 'F1 wag' bestowed upon you. It didn't feel right, if anything it felt like a disservice to boil down your relationship with Franco to something so sensationalized. Keeping it private seemed the best decision, at least for the time being. But now, the longer you watched your boyfriend shamelessly flirt with anyone who crossed his path, the more you grew to regret this decision.

You weren't by any means a jealous person by nature, but something about the fact that no one but you had any problem with this situation - and only because they didn't know about your relationship - irritated you. If only you could figure out a way to make Franco feel the same way you were. Just at that moment, as if by fate, you spotted a young-looking boy in a race suit walking casually past the lounge. His carefree walk, curly brown hair and boyish smile - bingo.

"Hey there," you called out, hopping up from the chair you were sitting in and walking over to the boy.

"Oh, hello," he replied, seemingly taken aback by being addressed by you.

"Sorry, it's just that I'm a little new to all of this and," you look him up and down, "you look like you know what you're doing, do you think you could show me around?"

He laughs shyly, hand rubbing the back of his nape. "Well, I mean, alright then, I'm Ollie by the way."

"Lovely to meet you, Ollie." You offer a girly giggle which you try your best not to cringe at as you follow the boy, who begins to walk around the nearest garage.

He begins to explain things, the process of getting ready to drive, the roles of different team members and the physics of the car itself - all of which you could care less about, but you nod earnestly regardless. Along the way, you even offer any mechanic or engineer who seems your age a friendly smile, and even a wink if they're particularly good-looking.

It's just your luck too that all of this is happening just close enough to the media hubs where your boyfriend has been stuck all afternoon. You try your best not to look too often over at him, not wanting to give away the true intentions of this mini tour you're scored for yourself. He doesn't seem to share the same sentiment though, based off of how many times you've caught him stealing glances at you, his eye following watchfully as you laugh and tease your impromptu tour guide.

"And so every element of car design has the purpose of making it as fast as possible, either through aerodynamics or by making everything lightweight," he continues to explain excitedly, and even though you're starting to feel dizzy from all the nodding you give him a quick one.

"Oh, wow!" You say, and before you know it you've landed yourself in the perfect position - within both earshot and line of vision of your boyfriend who seems to be wrapping up one of his last interviews for the night. Now, for the cherry on top.

You watch as Franco finishes saying his goodbyes to the last of the media crew, his eyes now searching the paddock for you. Knowing that he's looking at you, you throw your head back in laughter at nothing in particular and bring a hand up to graze Ollie's upper arm. Though you have his back to him you know your boyfriend well enough that when you feel a hand on your own shoulder mere seconds later, you aren't too shocked.

"Oh, hello Franco," you hum, feigning innocence. "Ollie here was just showing me around and keeping me company, isn't he the sweetest?"

"Very sweet." He grins through gritted teeth, though his strengthening grip on your shoulder says otherwise.

"No problem, oh but hey I forgot to show you just one more th-"

"Thanks, kid, but my girlfriend and I have got to get going."

Trying not to make it too obvious on your face how pleased you were that your plan had worked, you thanked Ollie once more before you felt Franco's grip sliding down your arm and intertwining his fingers with yours. Desperately, he dragged you off and away from your tour guide - who had a slightly confused expression painted on his face as he watched the two of you disappear into the Williams garage. You were amazed by how quickly your boyfriend was walking as he pulled you into his driver's room, shutting the door behind you quickly.

"What was that?" he huffed immediately, not giving you a second to say anything. You only smiled in response, watching his normally calm expression morph into one of frustrated confusion.

"I told you, Ollie was showing me around, you were busy with your interviews anyways," you decide to keep up the act of innocence, though you can tell he's not buying it.

"Bullshit, what sort of showing around involves touching him."

"I didn't think you were watching, those reporters seemed to keep you pretty occupied," you say in a sing-songy tone, throwing yourself down on the couch in his room. You wait for him to respond - something equally sarcastic or quippy, but when you turn to look at him you see him staring at the wall in front of him, eyes furrowed in confusion. Slowly, the cogs in his mind seem to start working as his expression slowly changes into one of realisation.

"You were jealous," he breathes out, turning to you with eyes wide and brows raised.

"Oh pfft- I wouldn't say jealous, bored now that might be more accurate but-" You're interrupted by him taking a seat on the couch next to you, face now painted with a smug look.

"You didn't like that I was talking to so many reporters, did you?" His teasing tone is enough to make your heart race a little, though you try your best to keep calm.

"I'm pretty sure you were doing a little more than talking babe, you were flirting!"

He looks at you with a slightly offended expression, "flirting?" It's almost as if he's just realising what he was doing.

"Uhm, duh."

"Did it really look like that?" His brows curve up into a pleading expression, "I didn't mean to, I swear!" You let out a soft chuckle watching his apologetic expression.

"It's fine baby, just try to be a little less friendly next time - I think your PR team would appreciate it anyway." He nods, scooting a little closer so that he can lay his head on your shoulder. There's a beat of silence before he speaks again.

"You were jealous," he hums, almost as if he's talking to himself.

"Wh- so were you! Poor Ollie is probably terrified of you now!"

"Whatever, he's a big boy, he'll live," he sighs, reaching for your hand and intertwining it in his "Plus, don't act like you're any better using that kid to get back at me."

"Hey, I had to do something before you walked out of that media room with a second girlfriend," you crossed your arms in annoyance, refusing to even look at him.

"You're cute when you're jealous," he laughs, before turning to peck at your jawline. Before you can stop you're melting into his touch, bringing a hand up to brush his curly hair away from his face. It might be a weak apology to some, but to you - to be here with him, in the privacy of his driver's room, away from Ollie, the reporters, and the rest of the world - it's more than enough.

taglist: (reply/send me an ask if you'd like to be added!)

@spreadyourwings-my-smiling-angel @alelo23 @scill-a @multifan-idk

[simplygojo]

Gettin' A Full Service

author's note ⸺ Y'all I'm so sorry im nothin but a nasty dog bc no way this is 4.3k 💀. ANYWHO this smutty fic idea came to me when seeing the art used as the cover for this by @actuallyvalerie (original art is linked here), I just couldn't help myself from writing this...heh. Hope you enjoy!

pairing ⸺ Mechanic!Toji Fushiguro x reader

word count ⸺ 4.3k (im a nasty dog y'all...)

content ⸺ 18+ content, SMUT!, oral (reader receiving), intercourse, dirty sex, choking, pet names (pretty girl), fingering, slight overstimulation, mndi, reader has a vagina, reader uses female pronouns

materlist || request guidelines || commissions || discord channel

^^ art by @actuallyvalerie

The low rumble of engines filled the air as you stepped into the garage, the familiar scents of motor oil and gasoline swirling around you. Your heartbeat quickened the moment you caught sight of him—Toji Fushiguro. 

He was bent over the hood of his car, focused on something behind the propped-up hood.

The muscles in his broad back flexed as he worked, his white tank top clinging to his sweat-slicked skin. His strong arms glistened with a light sheen of sweat, smudged with streaks of oil that only added to the raw masculinity he exuded. 

A dark smear ran along his sharp jawline, the grease contrasting with his striking, rugged features. The late afternoon sun filters through the wide windows of Toji’s garage, casting long shadows across the floor as you lean against the doorframe, watching him work. 

His muscles flexed as he tightened a bolt with practiced ease. His black hair falls into his eyes, and he grunts, annoyed, pushing it back with his forearm before continuing.

You can’t help but smile at the sight. Toji, focused and in his element, and it was really turning you on…

The way he concentrated on the task at hand, brow furrowed and lips slightly parted as he grunted with effort, was enough to send heat coursing through you. Each twist of the wrench, every subtle shift of his frame, seemed to radiate raw masculinity, igniting a spark of desire deep within you.

Your pulse quickened, and you felt a warmth pooling in your core, drawn in by the mix of confidence and sheer masculinity he exuded.

Toji, sensing your gaze, glances over his shoulder, raising an eyebrow. “You gonna stand there all day or actually say something?” His voice is teasing, rough around the edges, but there’s that familiar smirk tugging at his lips, the one that makes your heart skip a beat.

You push off the doorframe and walk over, hands in your pockets, pretending to study the car (like you gave a damn) as if you understand half of what he’s doing. 

“Just admiring the view,” you reply with a grin, leaning against the workbench. “You sure know how to make fixing a car look… good.”

Toji snorts, wiping the grease from his hands onto a rag before tossing it aside. “Yeah? Well, don’t get used to it. Not many people get a free show.”

You roll your eyes at his usual bravado but can’t deny that there’s something captivating about him. He straightens up, towering over you with that smug grin still firmly in place. “What, you just came here to stare?”

You shrug, deciding to play along. “Maybe. Can’t blame me, right? You’re good at what you do.”

His smirk widens, and he steps closer, towering over you now. There’s an intensity in his gaze, but it’s softened by the playful glint in his eyes. “You saying I should charge for it?”

You laugh, lightly shoving him. “Please, you’d drive everyone away with that attitude.”

He chuckles, leaning back against the car, crossing his arms over his broad chest. “Probably. But you’re still here, so I must be doing something right.”

You look up at him, biting back a smile. “Guess I’m the lucky one, huh?”

Toji’s eyes narrow playfully, but there’s a warmth in his gaze that wasn’t there before. “Damn right.”

The two of you fall into a comfortable silence, the sounds of the garage filling the space once again. 

After a moment, you speak again, your voice softer. “Need any help?”

Toji glances at you, the corner of his mouth twitching. “You offering?”

You shrug, moving closer to inspect the tools scattered on the workbench. “Maybe. I’m not exactly a mechanic, but I can hold a wrench.”

He snorts, amused, and hands you a tool.

“Don’t hurt yourself. That’s my job.”

You take it, rolling your eyes at his comment. But as you stand next to him, following his instructions and working together on the car, there’s a quiet contentment in the air. 

You grip the wrench, watching Toji’s hands as he guides yours to the right bolt. His touch is firm, steady, sparking a heat between your thighs. His body is so close to yours that you felt the warmth radiating off him. 

You try to focus on the task at hand, but with Toji standing over you, the subtle scent of engine oil mixed with his cologne makes your heart race, and it's hard to concentrate.

"Like this?" You ask, adjusting the wrench in your hand, trying to distract yourself from your dirty thoughts.

Toji’s lips twitch into a smirk as he leans in closer, his breath warm against your ear.

"Tighten it, don’t baby it, baby." 

You roll your eyes but smile despite yourself. You give the wrench another turn, putting more effort into it this time.

"There. Happy?" You ask, looking up at him.

Toji’s gaze flickers down to meet yours, and for a moment, the air between you seems to thicken. 

His eyes darken, a hint of something playful yet dangerous lurking in them.

He doesn’t pull away. Instead, he leans in even closer, so close you can feel the brush of his arm against yours.

"Not bad," he murmurs, his voice low. His big arms reached over you and tightened the bolt even more, just showing off his strength. "Maybe you’re not as useless around here as I thought."

You narrow your eyes at him, though there’s no real annoyance in your expression. "Oh, please. I’m the best help you’ve ever had."

Toji’s grin widens, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "Big words for someone who didn’t even know where the wrench was five minutes ago."

You open your mouth to retort, but before you can, he reaches past you to grab another tool, his arm brushing against your side. 

He doesn’t move away, staying so close that your shoulders are practically touching. It’s deliberate—you can tell by the smug look on his face.

Your heart skips a beat, but you don’t back down. Instead, you let your own smile grow, deciding to meet his teasing head-on.

"Maybe I don’t know cars, but I know you like showing off. How long did it take you to fix that last engine again? Two hours?"

Toji lets out a low chuckle, clearly enjoying your banter. "Two hours, and it was perfect. Don’t forget that part."

You tilt your head, raising an eyebrow. "Perfect, huh? Or just barely passable?"

He narrows his eyes at you, though there’s a playful edge in his gaze.

"Careful. You’re gonna talk yourself out of a favour if you keep that up."

"Oh? What favour?" you ask, leaning against the car now, your arms crossed, fully enjoying the back-and-forth.

Toji leans down, bringing his face closer to yours, his grin shifting into something more dangerous, more tempting. "The one where I let you stick around here. Don’t think I’ll keep you around for free."

Your breath hitches slightly, but you don’t let it show. Instead, you match his energy, pushing back without missing a beat.

"Oh, so you’re saying I have to work to earn my keep? What’s the price, then? More wrench-holding?"

He chuckles again, the sound deep and rich, vibrating through the air between you. 

His eyes lock onto yours, and for a moment, the teasing fades into something heavier, something that lingers in the charged space between your bodies. 

He’s close enough now that you can see the flecks of green in his eyes, close enough that you can feel the warmth rolling off him.

"Nah," Toji says, his voice dropping an octave, turning more serious but still holding that playful tone.

"I’ve got enough wrenches. I’m thinkin’ of something a little more… personal."

You can feel your pulse quicken, but you don’t look away. "Oh? Like what?"

He leans in, just barely brushing his lips against your ear.

"Guess you’ll just have to stick around to find out."

For a second, the world seems to slow down, your senses overwhelmed by the proximity of him, the way his voice sends shivers down your spine. 

But before you can say anything, Toji pulls back, the smirk returning to his face as he casually grabs another tool and turns back to the car, as if nothing just happened.

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, your heart still pounding in your chest.

Toji always knows exactly how to push your buttons, how to get under your skin in a way that leaves you wanting more.

“Tease,” you mutter under your breath, shaking your head with a smile.

Toji glances over his shoulder, the corner of his mouth quirking up.

“I’m not teasing this time, I’m just busy. Like I said, stick around...”

His voice was low, almost serious, but that playful gleam in his eyes hasn’t faded. 

He gives you a wink, and something about the way he says it sends a shiver down your spine.

You open your mouth to reply, but words seem to get stuck in your throat. The way he’s looking at you right now—like you’re the only thing in the room worth paying attention to—makes your pulse quicken. 

The air between you feels heavy, charged with an energy you can’t quite name.

Toji watches your reaction closely, his grin fading into something softer, more intense. He drops the tool he was holding onto the workbench and turns fully toward you, wiping his hands on the rag before tossing it aside.

“You really think I’m just messin’ with you?”

Your breath catches as he steps closer, closing the already small distance between you. His presence is overwhelming—tall, broad, and carrying that rough, irresistible confidence he always seems to have. 

But this time, there’s something else in the way he looks at you, something different. His teasing smirk is gone, replaced by a look that makes your heart race.

“Toji…” you start, but you’re not even sure what you want to say.

He reaches out, his fingers brushing lightly against your chin, tilting your face up so that you’re forced to meet his eyes. The touch is surprisingly gentle, almost tender.

“I’m serious,” he says quietly, his voice low and rough around the edges. “You think I haven’t noticed? The way you look at me, the way you linger around here like you’re waitin’ for something to happen.”

Your cheeks burn at his words, and you’re not sure if it’s from embarrassment or anticipation.

Maybe both.

But before you can respond, Toji’s hand slips from your chin, moving to rest against the side of your neck, his thumb brushing against your skin. The touch sends a jolt of electricity through you.

“I’ve been holding back,” he murmurs, his voice hoarse, like he’s been keeping this confession locked away for too long.

The dark, dangerous edge in his tone sends a shiver down your spine. His grip on you tightens slightly, a subtle indication of just how much control he’s been forcing himself to maintain.

You’re painfully aware of how close he is now—his broad frame nearly eclipsing yours, his body radiating a heat that makes it harder to breathe. The faint scents of oil and metal lingers in the air, mixing with something distinctly him. It’s intoxicating.

“M’didn’t wanna push too far, but... maybe I’ve been waitin' for you to give me the green light.” His words hang in the air, a challenge wrapped in velvet. It’s like a line drawn in the sand, daring you to cross it.

Your heart pounds, adrenaline coursing through your veins. Every inch of you is hyper-aware of Toji—the way his hand lingers on your neck, the way his gaze seems to devour you. You want this. God, you want this.

“What if I gave you that green light right now?” The words leave your lips before you can fully process them, but there’s no hesitation, no second-guessing.

For a fleeting moment, Toji’s pupils dilate, his eyes narrowing with something primal, something dangerous. The smirk that spreads across his face is no longer playful—it’s predatory.

“Then I wouldn’t waste any more time.”

Before you can draw another breath, his mouth crashes down on yours, and it’s like a dam breaking—everything he’s been holding back unleashed in one searing, possessive kiss.

His hands move from your throat to your waist, pulling you against him so fiercely that your feet nearly leave the ground.

There’s nothing gentle about the way he kisses you. His lips are demanding, rough, as if he’s staking a claim.

You can feel the pent-up tension in every movement—the way his teeth graze your lower lip, the way his hands grip your hips like he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he loosens his hold.

Your hands move instinctively to his hair, fingers tangling in the dark strands, pulling him even closer.

You match his intensity, giving in to the heat that’s been simmering between you both for far too long. Every brush of his lips, every press of his body against yours ignites a fire low in your belly, making you ache for more.

Toji pulls back for just a moment, his lips hovering dangerously close to yours as he catches his breath. His eyes, hooded and dark, search yours as if looking for any trace of hesitation. But there is none.

“You sure you’re ready for this?” His voice is low, rumbling with barely restrained need.

Your answer comes not in words but in the way you tug him back to you, pressing your lips to his once more, harder this time, as if you’re trying to tell him with your body what your words can’t quite express.

Toji groans softly, the sound vibrating against your mouth as his hands begin to explore, sliding under the hem of your shirt.

His touch is scorching, sending jolts of electricity through your skin. 

There’s an urgency now, a desperation in the way his hands roam your body, as if he’s trying to memorize every inch of you. 

Your back hits the cold metal of his car behind you, the chill momentarily cutting through the heat between you, but it only seems to heighten the tension. 

Toji’s hands are firm on your waist, holding you in place against the cool surface, his body pressed against yours in a way that has your pulse racing.

He breaks the kiss, breathing heavily, his eyes smouldering with an intensity that makes your stomach flip. The darkness in his gaze has only grown deeper, and when he speaks, his voice is rough, husky, full of raw need.

“I’ve been patient,” he mutters, his thumb brushing over the sensitive skin just above the waistband of your jeans. “But you don’t want me to hold back anymore, do you?”

The way he says it, the low growl in his voice, sends a wave of heat straight to your throbbing pussy. 

You can only manage a small shake of your head, your throat too tight to form any words.

His lips twist into a smirk, something predatory glinting in his eyes as he steps back just enough to grab you by the waist and hoist you effortlessly onto the hood of the car behind you. 

He quickly unbuttoned your jeans, sliding them off your legs, letting his hands roam your skin.

The cold metal beneath you contrasts sharply with the warmth of his body as he steps between your legs, spreading them open with a firm grip on your thighs.

“You’ve been teasing me, y’know that?” he growls, his voice low and dangerous as his hands trace the outline of your hips, fingers brushing the edge of your panties.

“You comin’ in here wearing these tight jeans, given’ me those looks.”

Before you can respond, he hooks his fingers into the waistband of your panties and, with one sharp tug, the fabric tears apart in his hands. 

The sound of it—quick and final—echoes in the small garage, and the cool air hits your skin, making you gasp.

Toji’s eyes darken as he looks down at you, his gaze hungry and unrestrained. He licks his lips, the smirk from earlier gone, replaced with something far more serious.

“Look at you,” he murmurs, his hands sliding up your inner thighs, rough fingers brushing the sensitive skin as he leans down, bringing his face closer to your dripping cunt. His breath ghosts over your exposed skin, sending a shiver down your spine.

“Such a pretty sight.”

He pauses for a second, his thumb brushing dangerously close to your center, teasing, but not yet giving you the touch you desperately need. You squeeze your eyes shut, your head falling back with pleasure.  

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to do this.”

Then, with a slow, deliberate movement, he lets his thumb slide over your slick folds, testing your reaction, watching the way your body responds under his touch. The anticipation, the raw hunger in his gaze, it’s all too much, and you let out a desperate moan. 

Your breath hitches as Toji's thumb slides teasingly through your folds, his touch both rough and deliberate.

You try to bite back the groan threatening to escape your lips, but the way his eyes flicker up to meet yours tells you he notices everything.

“Don’t hold back now,” he rasps, his voice gravelly, sending shivers down your spine.

“I wanna hear every pretty sound you make.”

Before you can react, he dips his head between your thighs, and the warmth of his breath against your sensitive skin makes your body tremble. His hands grip your thighs firmly, keeping you in place, as his tongue traces a slow, agonizing path over your slick heat.

Your gasp echoes through the garage, head falling back against the hood of his car as pleasure surges through you. 

You feel Toji’s lips curl into a smirk against you, clearly enjoying the way your body reacts to his touch. 

He doesn’t hold back—his tongue flicks, swirls, and sucks, each movement precise and calculated, as though he’s savouring every moment of this.

“Fuck, Toji—” you gasp, your hands instinctively flying to his hair, tugging at the dark strands as the heat builds inside you.

Toji growls in response, the vibrations of his voice against your pussy sending waves of pleasure through you, making your thighs shake. 

He dives in deeper, his mouth working relentlessly, tasting every inch of you, each flick of his tongue pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

The sensation is overwhelming—his lips, his tongue, the way his fingers dig into your thighs, holding you open for him, like you’re his to devour. 

It’s too much and not enough all at once. Every brush of his mouth over your clit sends electricity shooting through your body, and leaves you whining for more.

Your hips buck instinctively, seeking more, needing more of the pleasure he’s giving you.

Toji chuckles, dark and amused, his voice muffled as he continues to work you with his mouth. “So needy,” he murmurs, his voice like velvet against your heated skin. “I like that.”

It’s like he knows exactly how to unravel you, like he’s been waiting for this moment, studying you, learning your body, just so he could do this—just so he could make you fall apart beneath him.

“Toji—m' gonna cum,” you choke out, your voice barely a whisper, but he knows what you need. 

He speeds up, his mouth and fingers working in tandem, the relentless pace driving you higher and higher, until the world falls away and all that’s left is him, his touch, and the pleasure that crashes over you in waves.

You cry out as your orgasm rips through you, your thighs clamping around his head as your body shakes with the intensity of it. 

But Toji doesn't let up, continuing to lap at you, drawing out your pleasure until you're trembling from the aftershocks.

Finally, he pulls back, his lips and chin glistening as he looks up at you with a satisfied grin, eyes dark with lust. He wipes the back of his hand across his mouth, standing back up, towering over you once again.

“Come here, pretty girl,” he rasps, his voice a low growl that sends another wave of heat through your body.

Before you can catch your breath, his large hand slides behind your neck, gripping it firmly, but not harshly. 

He lifts you from your position on the car, pulling you up until you’re sitting in front of him, your legs dangling off the edge of the hood. His hand lingers at your neck, his thumb brushing against your pulse, feeling the rapid beat of your heart.

Your body is still humming with the afterglow of your orgasm, but when you glance down and see Toji’s other hand move to the waistband of his pants, your breath hitches again. 

He keeps his eyes locked on yours as he unbuttons them slowly, deliberately, the tension between you thickening once more.

Toji's eyes gleamed with that dark hunger as his grip on your neck tightened just a fraction, enough to remind you who was in control. His free hand moved to the back of your thigh, pulling you forward on the car until you could feel the heat of him between your legs.

“Look at you,” he growled, his voice low and rough as his hand caressed the curve of your hip, dragging you closer to him.

“So pretty, all spread out for me.”

Your breath caught as you felt the tip of him brush against your entrance, your entire body already aching for him, needing more. You leaned into his grip on your neck, your pulse racing beneath his fingers as you whispered,

“Please, Toji…”

He chuckled darkly at the desperation in your voice, his grin widening as he pressed himself just a little harder against you, teasing you.

“Please what, baby? You gotta use your words.”

You squirmed under his grip, your body screaming for more contact, for him to stop teasing.

“God Toji—I want y’to fuck me,” you said in frustration, your voice barely audible as your body begged for him.

“Good girl.” His voice was a low, approving growl as he finally lined himself up with you, his voice sent another wave of heat to your aching pussy. Without another word, he pulled you forward, thrusting into you in one swift motion.

The sudden stretch had you gasping, eyes wide as your walls adjusted to his size, the feeling of him filling you completely was overwhelming.

Toji groaned, his grip on your neck tightening as he stilled inside you, savouring the feeling for just a moment. You grabbed his shoulders, nails digging into his skin.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he muttered through clenched teeth, his eyes locked on yours as each thrust sent a shockwave of pleasure through your body.

Your hands instinctively reached for him, fingers tangling in his dark hair as you clung to him, every nerve in your body on fire. Toji’s lips curled into a smug grin at the way you responded to him, the way your body seemed to melt under his touch.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” He rasped, his breath hot against your ear as he leaned in closer while maintaining his rough pace. His grip on your neck shifted to pull your head back slightly. 

“Tell me how good it feels.”

“It’s so good,” you moaned, your voice trembling as he began to pick up the pace, the force of his thrusts making the car creak beneath you. 

Every movement pushed you higher, the pressure building inside you all over again as Toji took you apart piece by piece.

Toji’s pace became relentless, each thrust hitting deeper, harder, and your body was a live wire, every nerve tingling under his touch. The pressure inside you built impossibly fast, the pleasure coiling tight in your core, threatening to snap.

“Toji—" you whimpered, barely able to form words as he drove into you, your body quivering beneath him. 

Hot tears pricked at your eyes from the overstimulation you felt—never ever had anyone fucked you like this.

He groaned at the sound of your voice, his lips brushing against your ear.

"That’s it, pretty girl. Cum f’me," he rasped, his hand tightening around your neck just enough to send a thrill through you.

The roughness of his voice, the commanding way he held you—it pushed you over the edge. 

Your body tensed, the world spinning as your orgasm ripped through you with a force that left you gasping, your walls clenching tightly around him as wave after wave of pleasure coursing through your veins.

You cried out his name followed by a pornographic moan, legs trembling, your nails digging into his shoulders as you rode the intensity of it, your whole body shaking as the pleasure overtook you. 

Toji’s hand slipped from your neck, sliding down to your waist as he kept moving, working you through the aftershocks as your body convulsed beneath him.

“There you go,” he growled, his voice thick with satisfaction, his hips slowing as he watched the way you writhed under him, completely lost in the ecstasy he’d given you.

Panting and spent, your body collapsed back against the car, your chest heaving as the last waves of your orgasm rolled through you.

Toji’s eyes gleamed with pride as he pulled out, his hands still possessively resting on your hips.

"You look so damn pretty when you cum," he murmured, leaning down to press a rough kiss against your lips, your body still tingling from the intensity of it all.

You were utterly spent, trembling in the aftermath, but as Toji’s lips curled into that familiar smirk, you knew...

He wasn’t done with you yet.

[jessica-problems]

Seeing @thydungeongal constantly wrestling with people interpreting her posts about D&D in ways that seem completely alien to me has convinced me that there are actually multiple completely distinct activities both being referred to as "playing D&D" Before we begin, I want to stress that I'm not saying one of these groups is Playing The Game Wrong or anything, but there seems to be a lot of confusion and conflict caused by people not being aware of the distinction. In fact, either one works just fine if everyone's on the same page. So far, I think I've identified at least two main groups. And nobody seems to realize the distinction between these groups even exists. The first group of people think of "Playing D&D" as, well, more or less like any other board game. Players read the whole rulebook all the way through, all the players follow the instructions, and the gameplay experience is determined by what the rules tell each player to do. This group thinks of the mechanics as, not exactly the *whole* game, but certainly the fundamental skeleton that everything else is built on top of. People in the second group think of "Playing D&D" as referring to, hanging out with their friends, collaboratively telling a story inspired by some of the elements in the rulebooks, maybe rolling some dice to see what happens when they can't decide. This group thinks of the mechanics of the game as, like... a spice to sprinkle on top of the story to mix things up. (if you belong to this second group, and think I'm explaining it poorly, please let me know, because I'm kind of piecing things together from other people saying things I don't understand and trying to reverse engineer how they seem to be approaching things.) I think this confusion is exacerbated by the fact that Wizards of the Coast markets D&D as if these are the same thing. They emphatically are not. the specific rules laid out of the D&D rulebooks actually direct players to tell a very specific kind of story. You can tell other stories if you ignore those rules (which still counts as "playing D&D" under the second definition, but doesn't under the first)And I think people in both groups are getting mad because they assume that everyone is also using their definition. For example, there's a common argument that I've seen play out many times that goes something like this:

A: "How do I mod D&D to do [insert theme here]?" B: "D&D is really not built for that, you should play [other TTRPG] that's designed for it instead" A: "But I don't want to learn a whole new game system!" B: "It will be easier to just learn a whole new system than mod D&D to do that." A: "whatever, I'll just mod D&D on my own" And I think where this argument comes from is the two groups described above completely talking past each other. No one understands what the other person is trying to say. From A's perspective, as a person in the second group, it sounds like A: "Anyone have some fun inspirations for telling stories about [insert theme here]?" B: "You can't sit around a table with your friends and tell a story about that theme! That's illegal." A: "But we want to tell a story about this theme!" B: "It's literally impossible to do that and you're a dumb idiot baby for even thinking about it." A: "whatever, jerk, I'll figure it out on my own."

--- Whereas, from B's perspective, the conversation sounds like A: "How do I change the rules of poker to be chess, and not be poker?" B: "uhhh, just play chess?" A: "But I already know how to player poker! I want to play poker, but also have it be chess!" B: "what the hell are you talking about? What does that even mean. They're completely different games." A: "I'm going to frankenstein these rules together into some kind of unplayably complex monster and you can't stop me!" ---

So both people end up coming away from the conversation thinking the other person is an idiot. And really, depending on how you concieve of what it means to "play D&D" what is being asked changes considerably. If you're only planning to look through the books for cool story inspiration, maybe borrow a cool little self contained sub-system here or there, then yeah, it's very possible to steal inspiration for your collaborative story from basically anywhere. Maybe some genres are kind of an awkward fit together, but you can make anything work with a little creativity.

If, however, you are thinking of the question in terms of frankensteining two entire board games together, then it becomes a massively difficult or even outright nonsensical idea. For example, for skill checks, the game Shadowrun has players roll a pool of several d6 at once, then count up how many rolled above a target value to see how well a character succeeded at a task. The whole game is full of specific rules about adding or removing dice from the pool, effects happening if you roll doubles, rerolling only some of the dice, and all sorts of other things that simply do not translate to rolling a single d20 for skill checks. On a basic level, the rules of the games work very differently. Trying to make them compatible would be much harder than just learning a new game from scratch. Now, neither of these approaches is exactly *wrong*, I guess, but personally, I find the rules of TTRPGs to be fascinating and worth taking the time to engage with all the weird little nuances and seeing what shakes out. Also, the first group, "TTRPG as fancy board game" is definitely the older and more widespread one. I kind of get the impression that the second group largely got into D&D through actual play podcasts, but I don't have any actual data to back that up. So, if you're in the second group, who thinks of D&D as basically a context for collaborative storytelling first and a game second, please let me know if I'm wildly misunderstanding how you approach D&D. Because I'm pretty sure it would save us a whole lot of stupid misunderstandings.

[physalian]

Lateral vs Vertical Magic Systems

I… think I’m the only one to use these terms? What I mean by this is different than hard and soft magic, slightly.

Quick recap:

Hard magic systems have rules and strict definition for what can and can’t be done

Soft magic systems go more off vibes, magic exists but the exact mechanics are not important or don’t exist

—

I think you can have a lateral or vertical magic system that’s either hard or soft, and what I mean by this is:

Vertical magic is where everyone has magic of wildly different flavors but hones them all for the same specific purpose.

Lateral magic is where everyone has magic of the same flavor but uses it for wildly different purposes.

Here’s some vertical magic examples:

Percy Jackson: Nobody uses their demigod powers for anything other than staying alive, by and large, and there’s a huge variety of demigod power possibilities and very little overlap. Whether it’s physical combat or mental, these kids’ powers exist so they can fight gods and monsters.

Naruto: I have not seen most of this show so correct me if I’m wrong but, this is a world where ninjitsu is almost exclusively for combat. While there’s core principles, the heaviest hitters in the show all have wild and exclusive powers or special moves that only they can use that go far beyond skill in martial arts (except for Rock Lee).

X-Men: By nature of it being a comic book, the premise of the world is built in heroes versus villains and how they use their powers to beat the snot out of each other. In X-men specifically, mutants are persecuted and can’t use their powers legally, and have little choice beyond using their mutation to stay alive and “do good”.

Lateral magic systems might be something like:

Tinker Bell: You’re a nature fairy, by and large, and everyone gets their power from the same source, pixie dust, each using their flavor of magic to suit their niche purpose in the environment

Danny Phantom: Yes, he’s a superhero and must have fights, but all of Danny’s super-powered rogues are ghosts, with no exceptions, and everyone is limited to how creatively and uniquely they use the same basic ghost principles of possession, telekinesis, invisibility, and intangibility, + their special trait, but all also suffer the same issue that unites them more than once: They are dead, and good or bad, the living fear them.

Fullmetal Alchemist: Alchemy isn’t limitless, and its practitioners typically focus on one very specific kind of alchemy of their choice with the hard rule that everyone must follow of construct, deconstruct, and reconstruct, and get really, really good at honing it mostly for combat, but also in fields of science, engineering, etc. There is alchemy and only alchemy, and it has rules.

—

Last Airbender is both! Its bending rules are strictly limited to the four elements and how creative you can get with your element… but it is also a show that heavily features martial arts and how that bending can be used in combat, but it also built a world where bending factors into other jobs, arts, and the very fabric of society.

Why does lateral vs vertical magic matter?

When you’re designing your magic system, you have to think about how this magic would integrate into a world as if its always existed there. Is it hidden magic, like in most urban fantasy? Or is it baked into the fabric of society, like with bending? Does everyone start with the same basic tools and go wild, or does everyone start wild, and all chase the same aspirations?

Whichever you pick does depend on the story you’re telling. A lot of the media I mentioned is action-adventure, which means that all magic, lateral, vertical, soft, or hard, leans toward one thing in the end: Combat.

But beyond combat, how can your magic be used? Are people allowed to practice it without regulations or is it heavily structured by their fantasy society? If it has always existed, how would their would be fundamentally different than ours?

[starset21]

I Know Love Pt.1

Pairing: Lando Norris x Piastri!sister reader

Summery: Lando has always been a friend, her brother’s easygoing, fun-loving teammate. But when a fleeting moment in the garage—a near fall, a steadying touch—sends an undeniable spark through her, she starts to see him in a different light. And she’s not the only one. Oscar notices the shift, and he’s not thrilled.

Standard disclaimer: I do not consent to the posting, translating, or publishing of my work to any 3rd party site, the only place it may found is on tumblr or A03 under the same name. This is all fake. It does not reflect real people, real events or their actual actions or relationships. May contain google translated languages.

A/N: Wow a Lando fic? who am I?

The McLaren garage was a controlled storm of movement—mechanics tightening bolts, engineers huddled over screens, the scent of fuel and rubber thick in the air. It was a world she had always been a part of, but this year, it was different. This year, she wasn’t just Oscar Piastri’s sister. She was an engineer. Fresh out of university, she had spent the last year interning with McLaren while finishing her degree. Now officially part of the team, she was living the dream she had worked for—traveling with one of the most competitive teams on the grid, analyzing data, working with some of the brightest minds in motorsport. And yet, as she stood in the garage, taking in the organized chaos around her, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was being watched. 

She didn’t have to look to know who it was.

Lando Norris.

He was perched on the edge of a workbench, race suit tied around his waist, arms crossed as he half-listened to an engineer briefing him about car setup. But his eyes—those sharp green eyes—kept flickering toward her. He had been doing that a lot lately. She tried to ignore it, just like she had ignored the lingering glances, the subtle teasing that felt just a little too personal, the way he always managed to be near her, even when there was no real reason to be.

Lando had been in her life since Oscar signed with McLaren. She had known him as her brother’s teammate, as the guy who spent way too much time in their apartment, as the one who dragged Oscar into ridiculous online challenges and way too many rounds of golf. But now?

Now she wasn’t just Oscar’s little sister who tagged along to races. She was a part of this team. She was someone Lando wasn’t supposed to flirt with, wasn’t supposed to look at like that.

And yet, here they were.

“Hey, rookie!” She turned at the sound of Oscar’s voice, watching as her brother waved her over from across the garage. She rolled her eyes at the nickname. He was already half-suited up, looking effortlessly in his element, the Piastri name printed proudly across his back. “Can you grab the updated telemetry from the board? We need to go over it before FP2.”

“On it,” she called back, already moving. The responsibility of being part of McLaren, of making real contributions to the car’s performance, was still something she was adjusting to. But she was good at her job. She had worked too hard, spent too many late nights studying aerodynamics, data analysis, and race strategy, to be seen as just Oscar’s sister. She was here because she had earned it. Navigating the crowded garage, she focused on her task—until the moment she didn’t. Her foot caught on a thick cable running across the floor, and before she could react, she was falling. A sharp gasp left her lips, but before she could hit the ground, strong hands grabbed her, pulling her back against a solid chest. 

Everything stilled.

A familiar scent of cologne and race fuel filled her senses. A steady grip held her firmly, keeping her upright. She knew exactly who it was before she even turned her head. Lando. His hands lingered on her waist for a moment too long before he finally loosened his grip. “You alright?” he asked, voice lower than usual, his breath warm against her cheek. Her heart was hammering in her chest—not from the fall, but from this. From him. She straightened quickly, trying to ignore the heat crawling up her neck. “Yeah, I just—” she exhaled, forcing a light laugh, “—was testing gravity. Works great, in case you were wondering.”

Lando smirked, the familiar mischief flickering in his expression. “Good to know. Maybe try not to test it in the middle of a race garage next time?” She rolled her eyes, brushing herself off. “I’ll keep that in mind.” But then, his voice dropped slightly, softer, more serious. “Careful, though,” he murmured. “I’m not always around to catch you.” And just like that, the teasing edge was gone, replaced by something heavier, something unspoken.

Her breath hitched slightly, her brain scrambling for a response, but before she could find one, Oscar’s voice cut through the moment. “What the hell was that?” She spun around to see her brother standing a few feet away, arms crossed, brows raised. Lando immediately stepped back, clearing his throat and running a hand through his hair like he hadn’t just been holding her like that. “Nothing,” she said quickly, shooting Oscar a look. “I just tripped.” 

Oscar’s gaze flicked between her and Lando, his expression unreadable before he exhaled, shaking his head. “Right. Well, try not to break anything before FP2, yeah?” She gave a mock salute. “No promises.” As Oscar walked away, she turned back to Lando, expecting another smirk, another teasing remark. But he was already looking at her—like he was thinking about something he wasn’t saying. She should have walked away. Should have ignored the way her stomach flipped. Should have reminded herself that this was a bad idea. But instead, for a split second, she let herself wonder.

What if?

The garage was alive with movement—mechanics fine-tuning the car, engineers cross-referencing data, the rhythmic hiss of drills filling the air as tire changes were simulated over and over. It was the kind of organized chaos she had come to love, the pulse of an F1 weekend beating strong around her. And yet, she felt… off. She was supposed to be locked in, completely focused. But ever since yesterday—since him—something had changed. It wasn’t anything obvious. Lando still moved through the garage like he always did—laughing with the team, listening to the engineers break down data, cracking jokes to lighten the mood. To anyone else, nothing was different. But she knew better. It was the way his eyes flickered toward her across the room, how he never seemed to look away fast enough. It was the way his presence felt closer— lingering near her workstation when he never used to before, standing just a little too near whenever she was giving Oscar or the engineers updates. And it was in the way she noticed him more now, too. She wasn’t blind—Lando had always been easy to look at, and plenty of girls did. She had spent years rolling her eyes at every new headline linking him to a model or influencer. It had never mattered before. So why did she care now?

She was deep in concentration, reviewing telemetry for the upcoming session, when Lando’s voice cut through the hum of the garage. "Whatcha looking at?" Before she could answer, he leaned down over her chair to glance at the screen, one hand bracing against the desk beside hers. His arm brushed against her shoulder, his body heat close enough that she could feel it even through the fabric of her team shirt. Her fingers tensed on the keyboard. She glanced at him from the corner of her eye, trying to keep her voice steady. “You suddenly care about telemetry when we aren’t in a debrief?”

Lando smirked. "I care about looking fast. And if you have some secret data to make that happen, I should probably know about it." She rolled her eyes but didn’t push him away. “If you’re looking for extra speed, maybe listen to your engineers instead of flirting with them.” His smirk deepened. “Who said I was flirting?” She turned her head then, her breath catching slightly at how close he was. Their faces were only inches apart, and there was something unreadable in his expression. A flicker of amusement, yes—but also something heavier, something deeper than his usual teasing. For a split second, neither of them moved. Then, just as quickly as he had leaned in, Lando straightened, grabbing a water bottle from the table like nothing had happened. “See you out there, rookie.” And just like that, he was gone, leaving her heart racing in his wake.

In the engineering office during a quiet moment between FP3 and qualifying. She was sitting at her workstation, buried in a complex set of calculations, when she heard it— Her name. Soft. Slow. Amused.

"Hey, you."

She glanced up and, of course, it was him. Leaning against the desk next to hers, looking far too relaxed for someone about to drive a car at 200 miles per hour. And then he did it again. Said her name, except this time, there was something in the way he dragged it out, a teasing lilt at the end that made her stomach flip against her will. She swallowed, trying to keep her voice level. “What do you want, Norris?” His smirk deepened, and she instantly regretted saying his name. “Just checking in,” he said, rocking slightly on the balls of his feet. “You seemed stressed earlier.” She huffed, turning back to her screen. “I’m fine.”

“You sure?” he asked, his voice dipping lower, quieter. She clenched her jaw. Focus. Focus. But then he leaned down, elbows on the desk, close enough that she caught the clean, fresh scent of him—something woodsy and warm that made her thoughts scramble. He tapped a finger against her laptop. “You work too hard.” She forced a scoff. “I think that’s a prerequisite for working in F1.”

“Doesn’t mean you should forget to have a little fun.” She turned to him, arching an eyebrow. “And I suppose you’re offering?” He grinned. “Maybe.” Her pulse spiked. It was dangerous how easy this was for him.

She thought she was done for the night. She thought she’d made it through without anything happening—without slipping up, without letting whatever this was get to her. But then she stepped into the hotel elevator and the doors started to slide shut, only to be stopped by a hand catching them. Lando. Of course. He slipped in, the doors closing behind him, and suddenly it was just the two of them in the small, enclosed space. And there it was again—that feeling, that unshakable sense that something had changed. They stood in silence for a moment as the elevator started its slow climb. Then Lando spoke, his voice quieter now, almost contemplative. “You’re avoiding me.” She inhaled sharply, keeping her eyes locked on the floor numbers slowly lighting up. “I have not been avoiding you.” Lando scoffed, leaning against the wall, arms crossed. “Oh, really?”

“You’re just in my space more,” she shot back. His lips quirked, but his eyes were serious. “Maybe.” Silence stretched between them. She could feel the weight of it pressing against her chest, thick and heavy. Then, he leaned in slightly. Not close enough to touch, but close enough that his voice was meant just for her. “You know I see you watching me, too, right?” She inhaled sharply. Heat crept up her neck, and she cursed her own reaction. “Don’t flatter yourself.” Lando let out a low chuckle, shaking his head and stepping into her space. “I think you like me.” Her jaw clenched. “You’re an idiot.” 

“Not denying it, though.” She glared at him, her heart hammering against her ribs. But before she could snap back, the elevator dinged, she instinctively stepped away from him and the doors slid open to reveal Oscar standing on the other side. His eyes flicked between them, sharp and questioning. Lando didn’t move for a moment, as if debating whether to push just a little further, but then he stepped back further with a knowing smirk. “See you tomorrow, then,” he murmured before walking past Oscar with an easy nod, disappearing down the hall. She exhaled, realizing just how tightly wound her body had been. Oscar, still holding the door open, gave her a look. She rolled her eyes. “Oh, shut up.” He didn’t say anything, but she felt his judgment.

[kvntonq]

𖤐 — not to me

pairing - old man logan ft. human!reader

summary - he says he doesn't deserve you, you remind him he doesn't get to decide that.

contents - protective!logan, a bit angst (typical logan), hurt & comfort, fluff, established relationship, brief mention of harassment.

words count - 1279 words

zayn's note - just wanna try writing angst a bit, well it's not fully angst but it's there. enjoy your reading lovelies!! <3

It was raining sideways the first time he saw you.

Some no-name town off a backroad in Texas. He'd stopped for gas, blood dried on his knuckles and too much noise in his head. You were out back behind the diner, hunched beside a busted-down car, cussing it out like it'd personally betrayed you.

He would've kept walking. He usually did. But something made him pause. Maybe it was the way you didn't flinch when he approached—just glanced up, squinted at him through the rain.

"Got a stare problem or are you gonna help?"

He didn't say anything, just shrugged off his coat, crouched beside you, and wordlessly started to work. Hands covered in grease, rain dipping from his nose, he expected silence.

Instead, you talked. Not about the car, but about music. Weather. How thankful you are for stumbling onto him in the rain. The kind of small, easy things no one asked him about anymore.

"You a mechanic?" you asked at one point.

He shook his head. "No," he replied gruffly, voice husky and deep.

"You're good with your hands."

And that made him look up. You didn't say it like a flirt. Just a fact and that threw him more than it should've.

The engine turned over ten minutes later. You grinned, all teeth and rain and relief.

"Guess I owe you a drink. The bar is alredy closed but I would make an excepton for you."

He should've said no. But he didn't.

That night, he followed you to the bar, silence and awkward. You slid him a beer and didn't ask questions. Not about the scars. The limp. The name he didn't offer.

You just sat there. Two ghosts passing time.

He left afterwards. But a week later, he came back.

Didn't know why then.

He did now.

The place was already buzzing when Logan slipped in.

He never liked the crowds—too loud, too many smells, too many hands reaching for things they didn't need. But he came anyway. Sat in the far corner, nursing a beer that'd long since gone warm. Watching you behind the bar, moving fast, smiling soft. That smile wasn't for him tonight—but he didn't mind. You were in your element. You always looked good in motion. Like the worlds couldn't touch you when you were working. Like you belonged there, even if he never felt like he belonged anywhere.

Until they showed up.

Three men—local drunks, loud and handsy. The kind who thought a tip gave them permission to linger, leer and make you uncomfortable. You dealt with it most nights. You were tough. Handled creeps like breathing. But tonight... they pushed it.

The tall one leaned over the bar, eyes too slick, voice slurred. "C'mon, sweetheart. Don't act like you don't like the attention."

You gave a tight smile. "I like respect. Think you got any of that back in your truck?"

His buddies cackled. He didn't. Instead, his hand slid over the bar—aiming for your wrist.

That's when you saw Logan stand.

You tried to wave him off, just a small shake of your head, but it was too late. The drunk grabbed your arm.

"Let go," you said, voice steel beneath the honey.

"Make me," he sneered.

And Logan moved.

One second he was across the room. The next he had the guy's arm twisted behind his back, face shoved into the sticky wood of the bar. The other two barely had time to register before Logan's claws snikted out, gleaming cold and sharp by the man's throat.

"Touch her again and you'll lose more than your drink."

His voice wasn't loud but the bar went silent. One of those silences that rang like a church bells in your chest.

The man whimpered. His friends scrambled. And Logan let him go—barely. You'd never seen a man soil himself out of fear until that night.

And you never looked away from Logan. His hands trembled. Like he wasn't actually aware of his reactions just now.

Later, Logan drove back in silence, jaw tight, knuckles white on the wheel. You didn't dare to say anything. You knew that look. Not rage. Not exactly. Just the old, heavy kind of guilt that sat in his bones like rust.

Now, he sat at the edge of the bed, brooding himself. You knelt in front of him, gently tugging his hands into yours. He flinched at first, but didn't pull away.

“Logan,” you said softly. “They started it.”

“I finished it like an animal,” he muttered. “You saw how they looked at me. Like I was a damn freak.”

You squeezed his hands, gently but hard enough to feel his presence. “You stopped them before they hurt me. That's not being a freak. That's being good.”

“Good,” he echoed, bitterly. “I don't even know what that means anymore. I scare people, sweetheart. I lose control. I've killed more men than you've met in your life.”

“And every time you've laid a hand on me? You've been gentle.” You looked up at him, hands cupping his face, forcing him to look at you. “Every time I've needed you, you showed up. Even when you didn't want to.”

He went quiet. His eyes looked too old, too tired. Like he'd been carrying the world too long and no one had offered to take even an ounce of the weight.

“You're not a monster to me, Logan. Not tonight. Not ever. You're the man that I fell in love with.”

That broke something in him. Not loud. Not messy. Just a quiet, unraveling breath as he leaned into your touch. He didn't move at first. Just stayed there, forehead pressed to yours, like breathing near you helped keep the darkness at bay. His hands rested on your waist, tentative, unsure—like he was afraid even now he'd break something.

You didn't pull away either. 

“You okay?” you asked, voice barely above a whisper.

“Am I ever?” he replied, half a smirk, half truth.

You gave him a look. “Be serious.”

“I am.” He let out a breath. “You ever think I'm just too damn far gone for this? For… for us?”

You shook your head instantly, thumbs rubbing his cheek. “No. Not once.”

His brows knitted, guilt sinking deeper into his eyes. “You saw me tonight. What I'm capable of. That didn't scare you?”

“What scares me the most is the idea of a world where you didn't come for me.”

He stared at you, unmoving. Torn between self-loathing and something that looked like love—raw, old, too big for a man like him. Like it didn't know how to live inside him without tearing him apart.

So, you kissed him.

Soft. Familiar. Gentle in the way people only kiss when they already know each other—when it isn't about proving anything, just being with someone who makes the darkness feel less heavy.

He breathed into it, forehead resting against yours once again when you pulled back.

“I don't deserve you,” he whispered. Like always, like that was the only thing he had known to say whenever you were here.

“Good thing you don't get to decide that. I chose you back then and I will always choose you.”

And for the first time that night, he let out a soft laugh—hoarse and rough, but real. Like it hurts to let it out. But it healed something anyway.

Later, you lay curled up together under the thin blanket. Logan didn’t sleep much. He never did. But he held you close, one hand resting against your back, your steady breathing lulling the storm in his chest.

You didn't need to fix him. You just needed to be there.

And you were.

that's it guys!! i hope you enjoy your reading!! give me your thoughts, feedbacks on this!! reblogs are appreciated too <3 till we meet again, then!

tags!! @princessanglophile @wchswift @briseroyawritingsblog @howlettsangel @dimlylittorch @themareverine @flowersforbucky @lubdubology @mcrdvcks @xxladymjxx @sweetverine @tezooks @loganismybodyguard [lmk if you wanna be added or removed from the taglist!!]

[lxndonorris]

his lucky charm - Lando Norris

Y/N x Lando Norris Theme: Smutish, light touching you're Lando's lucky charm for qualifying x word count: 1440+ taglist: @game-set-canet gif by me open for requests, reader or ships welcome :)

The bustling Suzuka circuit hums with anticipation as the Japanese Grand Prix approaches its crucial phase—qualifying. Dressed in the vibrant Mclaren team shirt and cap, courtesy of Lando's team, you find yourself standing in the heart of the Mclaren garage, surrounded by the familiar hum of engines and the frentic energy of race day preparations. 

Your heart races just as fast with excitement as the Mclaren standing a few feet away from you as you watch Lando prepare for qualifying, his presence commanding attention even amidst the chaos of the garage.

You approach Lando's Mclaren, tracing its cold outline with your fingers, completely lost in your thoughts, when hands run along your waistline, pulling you back into a warm embrace. Right away, the familiar scent of Lando's cologne gives him away as he rests his head on your shoulder, humming right into your ear.

Turning around, you smile at the sight of him wearing his racing gear. A surge of admiration washes over you. The sleek lines of his racing suit accentuate his athletic physique, highlighting every contour and muscle beneath the fabric. He looks every bit like the confident and skilled driver that he is. 

His curls frame his face perfectly, adding a touch of youthful charm to his rugged appearance. The hint of stubble along his jawline only serves to enhance his allure, giving him an air of casual confidence that is utterly irresistible.

There is something undeniablely magnetic about seeing him in his element, his passion and determination shining through in every movement and gesture.

"How do you like my baby?" He tilts his head teasingly and lets his hand glide across the car as well, following your prior movements easily.

"Just as pretty as its driver." You smirk, a rush of warmth flooding through you as you trace your fingers lightly over his chest, feeling his firm muscles even though his suit.

Lost in the moment, you almost forget where you are, the world around you melting away as you stand in your own little bubble of intimacy. The scent of his cologne envelops you, a heady mixture of excitement and desire lingering in the air. 

With a tender kiss, Lando prepares himself for the challenge ahead, donning his helmet and gloves with practiced precision.

"Good luck." You say when he approaches you one last time before jumping into the car. With an appreciative nod, he climbs into the cockpit of his Mclaren, and you can't help but feel a surge of pride swell within you. 

With a headset in hand, you tune in to the team's communications, eager to follow Lando's progress. The voice of his race engineer crackles to life, providing updates and encouragement as he navigates the twists and turns of the Suzuka circuit.

With each lap, your heartbeat matches the rhythm of the roaring engines, and your breath catches in your throat as you follow Lando's progress with bated anticipation. And then, the moment of truth arrives.

"P3!" comes the triumphant cry over the radio, followed by Lando's own celebration—a moment of pure elation, a testiment to his passion and skill. The exhilaration in his voice is palpable as he giggles through the radio again; his joy infectious and uplifting. In that moment, you feel an overwhelming sense of happiness wash over you, knowing that you might have played a small part in his success.

As he emerges from the car, his face flushed with the thrill of earning part of the second row, you watch with admiration as he celebrates with his mechanics, his confidence and self-assurance radiating from every pore. And then he turned to you before taking his helmet and balaclave off, revealing a bright smile and his eyes filled with an unmistakable spark of affection.

With a swagger in his step, he approaches you, pulling you into him, relishing the warmth of his embrace, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat echoing your own. Adrenaline and excitement surge through your bodies, binding you together in a shared moment of triumph.

"You're my lucky charm," he whispers huskily, his words sending a shiver down your spine. 

Blushing, you steady yourself against his frame while his hands are on your waist, holding you close.

You can sense a shift in his demeanor—the excitement of qualifying ignited a fire within him, and his touch feels more possessive and urgent than before. As you stroke his firm chest, you feel the tension in his muscles, his racing suit stretched taut against his body.

His breath is ragged against your ear as he whispers again, his voice even huskier and rougher with desire. "You have no idea how much I was thinking of you during the last lap. It made me so...hard."

You feel a rush of heat flow through you at his words, a delicious thrill coursing through your veins. You let your hand roam his chest once more before you let it wander down his body. When he bends his hip against the palm of your hand, his desire now firm against your touch, you let out a quick sigh, swallowing in a dry throat.

"I can't stop thinking about you," he confesses, his voice barely above a whisper. "Your hand on my skin, it drives me crazy."

"Lando." You growl, his words sending shivers down your spine. The intensity of his emotions radiates from his entire being; his desire is tangible in every glance, every touch.

But even amidst the intensity of your shared desire, there is a tenderness in his touch, a depth of emotion that transcends the physical.

"You're unbelievable." You stroke his chest again, and you feel the rumble of soft growls vibrating against your fingertips. You can't help but smile, delighting in the primal response elicited by your gentle touch. 

His reaction, however, only serves to fuel the flames of desire burning within your belly, igniting a passionate intensity that pulses between you.

"It's true, though." He purrs happily, and you run a hand through his hair, "I felt you so close; it was amazing." Feeling the soft strands of his messy hair beneath your fingers, you can't resist running your hand through it again and again, relishing the tousles feel against your skin. His hair, disheveled from the intensity of qualifying, only adds to his irresistible charm.

"So I helped you?" You breathe as you caress his cheek, tracing the contours of his face with gentle strokes. 

With a soft smile, Lando leans into your touch, his eyes reflecting the depth of his emotions. "You always do." He smiles warmly.

As your hand lingers on his chest, a mechanic's voice breaks through the moment, reminding us of Lando's obligation to attend the qualifying celebration with Max and Checo.

You feel a pang of disappointment at the interruption, wishing for just a few more minutes, but you know that duty calls him, and Lando earned the right to bask in the glory of his achievement alongside his fellow drivers.

With a reluctant sigh, you withdraw your hand, watching as Lando exchanges a quick glance with me, his eyes filled with an apology and a promise of more time together later. You nod in understanding, offering him a reassuring smile as he turns to follow the mechanic toward the others.

As you sit among the audience, watching the press conference unfold, your heart swells with pride, seeing Lando bask in the attention he so rightfully deserves. His confidence and harisma shine through as he fields questions from the media, his responses poised and articulate.

But amidst the flurry of activity, your gaze keeps returning to Lando, drawn to him like a magnet. And as your eyes meet, a silent understanding passes between you. 

You can't help but smile as you notice Lando's unconscious gesture, his hand drifting to his chest in a subtle yet unmistakable motion. It is as if he is reaching out for you, seeking the comfort and warmth of your touch even in the midst of the conference.

All of him is longing for one thing: you.

Then, a question from the press jolts him back into reality. His gaze falters as he struggles to recall the question, a hint of embarrassment coloring his cheeks.

With a playful giggle, he apologized for his momentary lapse, his charm quickly winning over the crowd once more as he answers the question with ease.

But as he glances back at you, a mischievous twinkle dances in his eyes, and he can#t help but bite his lip. 

With a knowing smile, you return his gaze, your eyes filled with a mixture of love and desire., knowing that this is far from over.

[slt4kavanagh]

heyy

I saw you write for boys of Tommen could you write a smutty fic with Joey where she's riding his face whilst he's working at the mechanics

underneath it all

pairing: joey lynch x fem!reader

tw: nsfw, rough sex, orgasm denial, dominance/submission dynamics, face riding, public/semi-public sex, overstimulation, strong language, breath control elements, bodily fluids, praise and slight degradation, intense physical reactions (crying/shaking)

a/n: mb that it took so long, i’ve been really busy lately so sorry abt the wait, hope u enjoy x

masterlist !

he doesn’t even notice you at first.

you’re leaning against the garage wall, arms crossed, watching him work. engine grease stains the collar of his shirt, dark smudges across his knuckles. sweat clings to the back of his neck, dampening the little curls at the base of his hairline. he looks like a storm — all frustration and fury, hands working too fast, jaw clenched too tight.

joey’s been here all day.

when he finally looks up and sees you, it’s like the air shifts. his shoulders drop just barely. something flickers in his eyes. you smile, soft and knowing.

“hey.”

“hey,” he says, voice rough. “what’re you doin’ here?”

“thought you could use a distraction.”

he scoffs. wipes his hands on a dirty rag and tosses it aside. “gonna take more than that to fix this fuckin’ heap.”

you walk toward him slowly, your fingers grazing the hood of the car, your gaze locked on his face.

“i wasn’t talkin’ about the car.”

his eyes darken.

it’s subtle — just a twitch in his brow, the slightest tilt of his head — but you feel it like a spark up your spine. he’s reading you now. carefully. the way he always does. and underneath all that exhaustion and annoyance, there’s something else… something hungry.

“yeah?” he says. “what were you talkin’ about then?”

you close the distance between you, reach up to brush a smudge of oil off his cheek. your fingers linger.

“lie down.”

his brow lifts. “on the fuckin’ floor?”

“yeah.”

a pause. a long one.

then: “jesus christ.”

but he doesn’t move away.

you reach for the hem of his shirt, and that’s when it really shifts — the breath catches in his throat, his hands drop to your hips like muscle memory. you tug him closer until you’re backed up against the shelves, and he’s towering over you, the smell of sweat and smoke and motor oil wrapped around him.

“joey.”

you whisper it, but it lands heavy between you. his name, soft on your lips, like a command.

his eyes drop to your mouth. then lower.

“get on with it then,” he mutters.

and he drops.

right there, on the concrete, wiping off his hands again before lying flat. he looks up at you, waiting, the flicker of a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“you gonna make me beg?”

you smile sweetly.

“maybe.”

he groans, head thunking back against the ground. “fuckin’ knew i shouldn’t have fallen in love with you.”

you step over him, straddling his face. his hands grip your thighs like he’s anchoring himself — and when you lower yourself down, he exhales like he’s been underwater.

you’re not even fully settled when he dives in — no teasing, no warning, just tongue and heat and the desperate need to make you come on his face like it’s the only thing in the world that matters.

and joey? he’s filthy with it.

moaning against you. sucking your clit between his lips like he wants it tattooed on his tongue. dragging you down harder when you try to lift off, shaking from the pressure.

you brace your hands on the shelf behind his head, hips rocking gently, thighs trembling already.

“fuck—joey—”

he groans like he’s in pain, mouth never letting up.

and just before you tip over the edge, voice raw, he growls:

“ride it for me, yeah sweetheart?”

you’re trying to be quiet.

you really are. but it’s impossible — not when joey’s got you like this, thighs spread around his face, tongue working you over like he’s trying to memorize your taste. like it’s the only fucking thing in his world.

the metal shelf behind you rattles with every roll of your hips. you’ve got one hand tangled in his sweaty curls, the other braced behind you to keep from collapsing. your thighs are shaking. your chest heaves.

and still — still — he won’t let you finish.

“joey,” you pant, voice barely holding steady. “please—”

he hums into your pussy, dragging his tongue in slow, lazy strokes that make you shudder all over.

“please what?” he mutters against you, words muffled, mouth slick. “gotta use real words, sweetheart.”

“i—I wanna—” you swallow hard. “i need to come, please.”

“yeah?” he licks a long stripe up your center, sucks your clit into his mouth just briefly — enough to make your whole body jerk. “you think you’ve earned that already?”

you choke on a moan.

he grins against your skin.

“nah,” he says, voice like gravel, low and cruel and so soft it ruins you.“not yet.”

and then he changes it up — switches from slow teasing to firm, deliberate pressure, his tongue working you in tight circles. not fast. not sloppy. just enough to get you climbing again. just enough to make you whimper.

he knows exactly what he’s doing.

“fuck—joey—baby, i—”

“mmhm.” he tilts his head slightly, suckles your clit like he’s drinking you down. “almost.”

your body’s a mess — your back’s arching, your hips are stuttering against his face, your thighs are twitching like you’re on the verge of snapping. so close. it’s right there, just under your skin, pressure building and building and—

then he pulls back.

you sob.

“no—joey, please, don’t—”

“shhh.” he presses his mouth to your inner thigh, breathing hard. “you’re not gonna come on me until i say.”

you try to grind down, but he’s holding you steady now — hands firm on your hips, keeping you right where he wants you. you feel his breath on your soaked skin, the edge so sharp it hurts.

he kisses your clit. once. soft. cruel.

“ride my face,” he says again. “but don’t you fucking come.”

your thighs are shaking too much to hold yourself up, but you nod anyway, desperate and wrecked.

“good girl,” he murmurs.

and then he’s back at it — slow at first, then deeper, messier, licking and sucking with those same filthy moans rumbling from his throat like he needs this. like he needs to make you beg.

you’re a writhing mess above him, trying not to break. the edge teases you, cruel and perfect. and joey?

joey’s smiling under you.

he’s drawing it out on purpose now.

every time your hips twitch, every time your breath stutters like you’re about to fall over the edge, joey pulls back — licking slow and lazy, mouthing at your thighs like he’s not already soaked in it, like his cock isn’t straining hard and aching behind his jeans.

you’re shaking. pleading.

he’s so fucking patient with it, one big hand pressed firm against your stomach to keep you steady, the other trailing slowly up your back to tangle in your hair.

and then—

“you want it that bad, baby?” he mumbles against your skin, tone half-gone and wrecked.

“joey—fuck—please, i—I need—”

he grins. all teeth and sweat and sinful devotion.

“then come on,” he growls, eyes dark and locked on yours, “come on my fuckin’ face. let me taste it.”

you break.

you don’t even get a full warning out — just a gasped, strangled noise that barely sounds human — and then your whole body’s convulsing,legs trembling, your grip on the shelf going white-knuckle tight as you grind against his mouth, riding the wave so hard it nearly knocks the wind out of you.

joey holds you through it, groaning like he’s the one coming, eating you through every second of it — until your thighs start to twitch too much, until you’re whimpering and trying to pull away, too sensitive, too far gone.

only then does he finally let go.

you sag back against the wall, head tipped up, chest heaving, heartbeat roaring in your ears.

he’s still on the floor, looking up at you with glazed eyes, mouth shiny, chin soaked.

“jesus christ,” he pants, “look what you fuckin’ did to me.”

and then he stands.

in one swift move, he grabs you by the thighs, pulls you off the shelf, and pins you to the wall — your legs wrapping instinctively around his waist, your body weak and pliant in his arms.

you barely have time to breathe before he’s undoing his jeans, hands trembling, teeth gritted.

“been hard since you walked in,” he mutters, pulling himself free, thick and leaking. he grinds against you once, both of you groaning at the friction. “you got no idea how close i was to losing it.”

“then don’t,” you whisper, lips brushing his.

that’s all it takes.

he lines himself up and thrusts in, burying himself to the hilt with a strangled moan. you both gasp, bodies locking tight — too much, too good, too perfect after everything he just did to you.

he barely gives you time to adjust — starts moving in short, hard thrusts that bounce you against the wall, your back slamming gently into the metal shelving with every movement.

“so fuckin’ tight,” he growls into your neck, voice cracking. “feel so good, fuck—”

you cling to him, nails dragging down his back, still shaking from your orgasm. every drag of his cock feels like fire.

“that’s it,” he hisses, fucking into you rough but controlled, jaw clenched tight. “take it, baby. made a fuckin’ mess on my face, now you’re gonna let me fill you up.”

you’re moaning nonstop, every word from him making it harder to hold on. and when he slips a hand between you to rub your clit — soft, rhythmic, in sync with his thrusts — you lose it all over again.

“fuck—joey, i’m—i’m—”

“come for me again,” he begs, begs, his forehead pressed to yours, sweat dripping down his temple. “please, come with me, i’m right there—”

you shatter.

your walls clamp down around him and he chokes on a groan, thrusting one more time before spilling inside you with a desperate, low curse. his whole body tenses, muscles trembling as he pushes as deep as he can, staying buried while he rides it out.

you’re both gasping, tangled up, clinging to each other like you’ll fall apart otherwise.

he stays like that for a minute.

silent. full. breathing heavy into your neck.

and then, voice raw and gentle:

“you okay, love?”

you nod into his shoulder, still floating. “mhm.”

he kisses your temple. then your cheek. then your jaw.

“you were so good for me,” he whispers. “so fuckin’ perfect.”

he pulls out slow, careful, one hand behind your head so you don’t hit it against the shelf.

and then he’s lowering you to the floor, one knee down, wrapping his arms around your waist like you’re something breakable.

he wipes between your legs with his shirt, tender and unhurried, like he’s done it a hundred times. and when you shiver, he peels off his hoodie and pulls it over your head, tucking your hair out from the collar.

“stay here,” he murmurs, kissing your forehead. “gonna lock up. then we’re goin’ home.”

you nod, dazed, and he presses one last kiss to your lips before standing, walking off with his shirt untucked and belt undone, muttering to himself with the softest little smile on his face.

because he just got to ruin you.

and now he’s gonna hold you all night.

[five-one-two-station]

@halfalive-chaos - Context

Oh BOY do I have some big giant feelings about this!

The short answer is yes, I think people/The Audience has forgotten this - but I also don't think it's entirely their fault.

Part of the reason I was really impressed by how Arcane used and executed the scene, and why I keep going on about it, is that this whole subject is kind of an ongoing concern of mine.

I very sincerely think that the documented decline of, not just sex, but horniness, in media has narrowed the spectrum of contexts we're used to seeing sex and sexuality happen in our storytelling, in ways that are doing us harm.

Because mainstream media has started shying away from engaging with sex to the degree that it has, sex is now almost invariably depicted in extremes - either "Aren't we edgy big boys now?" stuff like The Boys, or miserably sad traumatic drama grist - or else not at all.

And because "regular" tv has been scared off showing sex, it's vanishingly rare to see characters who are in love have sex, or to be sexual as an expression of that, certainly without some negative element to it.

That means we're almost never asked to think of it in terms of sincere, meaningful character communication, or as a storytelling mechanism, or ever presented with it in the context of a positive wider relationship.

I think the hazard of this is obvious - if our media and storytelling doesn't engage with healthy sex in that wider context, or use it purposefully, then we're conceding the whole conversation around it to porn, to novelty edgelordism, and grimdark miseryfests. Those things will define all our language and imagery around it, and the only time we'll ever see it will be upsetting, harmful or ugly. When it is easier to stumble across a scene of rape than it is to see a consenting woman orgasm, it's little wonder people can become reflexively suspicious of any sexuality at all.

But even when it's not so extreme as that, more often than not it's depicted as a casual fling instead, divorced from a bigger picture, or a distraction, an alternative to a grander and truer romantic interest. There's nothing at all wrong with sex for pleasure, don't misunderstand me, but it's odd that our media landscape has engineered a situation where depictions of sex in the context of a bigger love story almost never happen. It would seem then that we can have one or the other - sex or romance - but never at once.

And we're diminishing it with all of this. We're saying this incredibly important, intense, uniquely vulnerable and intimate feature of the human experience doesn't matter enough to talk about. We're saying that sex and love don't have any functional overlap. Even at best, we're pretending that sex isn't important in relationships, or increasingly, that the only good sex is... well... sexless. Sterile. Permissable and virtuous only when it's so "clean" and so perfect in circumstance that it becomes an unattainably impossible kind of ceremony.

The venue must be perfect. The characters must be not only unimpeachable, but historically and permanently so, and exactly as faultless as each other - they must be exactly the same social status, age, background, emotional state and situation. There can be no power imbalance or even a risked perception of one. No chequered history to leave behind, no overcome adversities, nothing that had to be learned. No transgressions to have been worked through, and comprehensively put to rest now. There can be no gaps they've had to bridge, one painfully hard-won inch at a time, to finally reach for each other in this way; and there can never have been.

Indeed, the moment must be so sublimely judged that it's unlikely to ever actually arise in a drama to start with; the characters must be in such a stable and identical situation that there's no actual storytelling to be done here warranting the scene in the first place.

Which is convenient, because in this framework, the only unproblematic sex is the sex nobody can possibly have. Because nobody is perfect. Nobody can have "perfect" sex. That's not how it works - the fundamental nature of intimacy is taking each other for what you actually are, in all of the reality involved. If it can't be messy, it's not true.

All of this comes with extra points and splinters too when it comes to the matter of lesbian sex in particular, and the complicated history of how we've been either exploited for disposable male titilation, or else rendered chastely invisible by well intended feminists of all persuasions. We were already being presented with a sex or romance dichotomy, and never mind if either one worked. Our sexual desire is something for everyone else to trade in, either to commodify it, or else to minimize for Our Own Good, and use the neutered cardboard cutout versions of us remaining as benign talking props for their own purposes.

It's a dysfunctional either/or. Asexuals & friends notwithstanding, physical intimacy is an incredibly important feature of the lives we spend together, and the bodies we live our lives in. And as much as we'd like to think we're all too cool and aloof for it, for most of us lust is impossible to entirely detach from sentiment, when it comes to the real people we form bonds with.

People falling in love want to fuck each other. People who are in love want to fuck each other. People fall in love in the process of fucking each other. It's not some abstract thing that happens in isolation to our feelings for each other.

I don't think it's good for us to perform such weird acrobatics to pretend none of this is true, whatever the reason for doing so; but that is effectively what modern media does.

And I think we're all poorer for it. We're poorer for missing out on the most private, intimately human kinds of moments in our stories that live in the space where love and lust can intersect. Because that's the only place those moments happen.

[little-p-eng-engineering]

The Crucial Role of Seismic Analysis and Design in Building Safety According to NBCC and ASCE Guidelines

Seismic analysis and design are fundamental aspects of structural engineering that ensure buildings and their non-structural components can withstand the forces generated by earthquakes. These practices are not just essential for the safety and integrity of structures but are also mandated by comprehensive guidelines and codes such as the National Building Code of Canada (NBCC) and the American Society of Civil Engineers (ASCE). This article delves into the importance of seismic analysis and design for buildings and non-structural components, guided by the principles set forth in the NBCC and ASCE.

Understanding the Risks

Earthquakes pose a significant risk to life and property. The unpredictable nature of seismic events, combined with the potential for catastrophic damage, underscores the need for rigorous building standards. Seismic analysis and design aim to mitigate these risks by ensuring buildings can endure seismic forces without collapsing, thus safeguarding occupants and minimizing economic losses.

NBCC and ASCE Guidelines: A Benchmark for Safety

The NBCC and ASCE have established benchmarks for seismic safety in the construction industry. The NBCC, applicable in Canada, and the ASCE's standards, widely adopted in the United States and internationally, provide a framework for assessing seismic risks and implementing necessary design and construction practices.

Seismic Analysis

Seismic analysis involves evaluating how a structure responds to earthquake-induced forces. This process helps engineers understand potential stress points and the overall behavior of a building during seismic events. Both the NBCC and ASCE recommend detailed analysis methods, including linear dynamic analysis, nonlinear dynamic analysis, and modal response spectrum analysis, among others. These methodologies help in designing structures that are not only compliant with safety standards but also economically viable.

Design Considerations

The design phase is critical in integrating seismic resilience into buildings. The NBCC and ASCE guidelines emphasize the importance of ductility, redundancy, and energy dissipation in structural elements. Ductility allows parts of the structure to deform under seismic loads without failing, while redundancy ensures that if one part of the structure fails, others can take over the load-carrying responsibilities. Energy dissipation mechanisms are incorporated to reduce the energy transferred to the structure during an earthquake, thereby limiting damage.

Non-Structural Components

Seismic safety extends beyond the structural elements of a building. Non-structural components, including mechanical, electrical, and plumbing systems, as well as architectural elements like ceilings, partitions, and facades, play a crucial role in building functionality and occupant safety. The NBCC and ASCE guidelines require these components to be anchored and braced appropriately to prevent detachment or collapse, which could cause injury or block egress paths during an earthquake.

The Path Forward

In conclusion,

the seismic analysis and design of buildings and their non-structural components, as per the standards of the NBCC and ASCE, are indispensable in the pursuit of creating earthquake-resilient communities. These practices embody a proactive approach to disaster mitigation, emphasizing the critical importance of preparedness and the implementation of engineering solutions that protect both people and their environments.

Tags:

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[brainddeadd]

Meeting Danny

The air in the Cadillac F1 garage was electric. It was your first official day with the team, and it felt like the world was holding its breath. Everything around you was new—new people, new cars, and a new world you’d only dreamed of entering. But today, it was real.

You stood at the edge of the pit lane, staring at the sleek, black-and-gold Cadillac F1 car, your heart thudding in your chest. The mechanics worked swiftly, perfecting every little detail. The hum of conversations buzzed around you, but all you could hear was the pounding of your own heart and the blood rushing in your ears. You were about to get behind the wheel of this thing.

"Looks good, huh?" a voice drawled from behind you, breaking your focus.

You turned quickly to see him—a tall, grinning man with an unmistakable aura of confidence. He leaned against the pit wall with that familiar relaxed stance, arms crossed. Daniel Ricciardo.

Your stomach did a little flip. Of course, he was here. As your teammate. He was the face of the team, the one they’d paired you with. A veteran of the sport, but one who was known for his playful and chaotic energy. Honestly, you didn’t know if you should be excited or terrified to be in his presence.

"You must be the new driver," Ricciardo continued, raising an eyebrow as if he could sense your nervousness. "I’m Danny, but you can call me whatever you want… as long as it’s not ‘old man.’"

You laughed before you could stop yourself, your nerves settling just a little. "I think ‘old man’ might be pushing it."

"Well, I tried," he shrugged, his grin widening. "You’re looking at the man who's won a few races, so trust me—I'm basically a walking fountain of knowledge. But hey, no pressure, right?" He winked at you, clearly teasing.

You tilted your head, trying to read him. He didn’t seem like the kind of guy who was all business, but that didn’t necessarily mean he was a slacker. You needed to know what you were getting into.

"So… what’s the deal with this team?" you asked, trying to sound casual, though you were anything but.

Ricciardo pushed off the pit wall and gave a quick, exaggerated look at the car, then back at you. "This? Well, it’s a whole new chapter. Cadillac’s first time in Formula 1. Big deal, huh?" He raised his eyebrows, letting the gravity of it sink in. "But don't get too caught up in all the press conferences and fancy speeches. It's still just us, the car, and the track. We’ll figure it out together." His voice lowered, becoming a little more serious, but still laced with that playful charm.

He leaned in a little closer, as if sharing a secret. "Look, you’ll feel the pressure, I’m not gonna lie. But this team’s got something special. The moment you stop having fun, you might as well hang up your helmet. Formula 1’s a blast—if you don’t enjoy it, you’ll burn out. Trust me."

You nodded, feeling the weight of his words. You couldn’t afford to lose sight of why you were here: to race. To win. But also to enjoy the ride.

Ricciardo’s grin returned. "Alright, enough about the serious stuff. Let’s get you used to this place, yeah? I’ll show you the ropes."

He slapped you lightly on the back, propelling you toward the car with an energy that was impossible to ignore. The mechanics and engineers working nearby glanced over, but Ricciardo didn’t seem to care. He was in his element—at ease with the chaos.

You followed him, already feeling a bit more comfortable. This team was chaotic, sure, but it was the good kind of chaos. The kind that came with passion, talent, and a lot of fun.

"You ready for this?" he asked, his voice a little quieter now, his grin softening. "The rookie and the veteran, together at last. Let’s make some magic happen."

"Definitely ready," you said, more confident now than you’d been when you first stepped into the garage. The thought of racing alongside someone like Ricciardo, with his experience and his infectious enthusiasm, made the future seem a lot less intimidating.

Ricciardo offered you one last wink before turning to the car. "Well, then, let’s go break some lap times, huh?"

You could already tell this would be an interesting ride.

[vandme12]

I barely see Ronin as a mechanic! Headcanons/Oneshots!

This was in my drafts for days..

You're not exactly sure how it happened. One minute, you’re flopped on Ronin's couch, droning on about how bored you are—how you could die of it, actually, right here, right now. The next, he's dragging you out to the garage like a wolf with a chew toy, all sharp teeth and brighter eyes, muttering something about “if you’re gonna whine, might as well make yourself useful.”

Useful, apparently, means learning how to fix cars. Because that’s what he does when he’s not busy tearing people apart. A little hands-on therapy. Take something broken, make it purr again. You guess it fits—devils need hobbies, too.

“I still think you should just let me die of boredom,” you grumble, arms folded as you watch him prop the hood open. It groans like a corpse stretching in its grave, metal rasping against metal.

Ronin snorts. "Dramatic much? C'mon, darlin', ain't gonna kill ya to learn how an engine works. Might even save your pretty ass one day."

You give him a look that could peel paint. "Or you could just fix it for me. That's what boyfriends are for."

That earns you a low, wicked laugh. The kind that slides under your skin and stays there. "Oh, sweet thing, you're in for it now. Open up those pretty hands—time to get 'em dirty."

He hands you a wrench, and you hold it like it's a foreign object. Ronin leans over the engine block, sleeves shoved up to his elbows, revealing forearms streaked in grease and little healing scrapes. He’s beautiful in the most ridiculous way: all messy burgundy hair, shark-teeth grin, and a nicotine burn low on his wrist. A devil working the bones of a machine.

And, lucky you—you get to be his little apprentice.

“So, what are we doing?” you ask, mostly to fill the silence. Ronin's in his element, already half-lost to the work. Fingers curling around bolts like he could coax the car to life with touch alone.

“Changing the spark plugs,” he says. Then, when you give him your best bewildered expression, he chuckles. “They help make the magic happen, baby. No spark, no fire, no joyride. Same as people, really.”

“Poetic,” you deadpan. “So, where do I start?”

Ronin tilts his head toward the engine. "Get in here, darlin. I ain't gonna hold your hand the whole way."

That is a lie, by the way. He absolutely will.

You squeeze next to him, shoulder brushing his. The garage smells like old oil, sweat, and something sweetly metallic underneath—not quite blood, but close enough that your stomach flips. His heat soaks into your skin when he leans in, hands guiding yours over the metal innards.

He explains things in that lazy drawl of his, a little smug every time you mess up. And you mess up a lot. Your fingers slip, your grip's too weak, you curse when you almost drop a spark plug into the engine. Ronin just watches, like he's enjoying the spectacle of you struggling.

“Y’know,” he murmurs, breath warm against your neck, “you’re real cute when you’re useless.”

“Fuck you,” you snap back, except it comes out a little too breathy. Which, of course, he catches. His smile goes sharp enough to cut.

"Careful, darlin'. Keep talkin' like that, I might start thinkin' you like it when I'm mean."

Your hands falter, and you feel his gaze crawl over you. Heavy, hot. You don't answer, because what would you even say? He's not wrong.

“Alright,” he says, voice softer but no less dangerous. “Tighten that one, yeah? Let’s see if you can follow basic fuckin' instructions.”

You try. You really do. But the angle's weird, and your fingers keep slipping, and why the hell is everything in a car so awkward? Your knee bumps against the wheel well when you lean in deeper, and suddenly you're halfway sprawled over the engine like a sacrificial offering.

Perfect. Exactly what Ronin wanted.

He catches you before you can slide further, one grease-slick hand curling around your waist. His other hand plucks the wrench from your grip with infuriating ease.

“Clumsy thing,” he drawls. “What am I gonna do with you, huh?”

“You could start by letting me go,” you say, but you don’t mean it. Not even a little. And Ronin’s the last person alive to fall for your lies.

His fingers press harder against your waist. "Nah," he says, low and rough, “I like you right where you are.”

He kisses you before you can fire back. Messy, claiming, dragging the breath from your lungs. His teeth catch your lower lip and tug, pulling a noise from your throat you weren’t planning to make. The taste of him is familiar—smoke and something darker beneath it, something that’s always felt a little like danger. Like sin in the shape of a man.

When he pulls back, you’re half-dizzy. Your hands are still braced against the edge of the car, and you can feel how tightly he’s holding you, like you might slip away if he isn’t careful.

“See?” he purrs. “Told ya fixin' cars could be fun.”

“I hate you,” you mutter, but you press closer anyway.

He grins, blood-red and wicked. "Nah. You love me. Now, quit slacking and hand me that wrench, sweetheart. We got work to do."

Head canons!

"Bored, darling?" If you so much as hint that you’ve got nothing to do, Ronin’s dragging you to the garage. He’s already got his coveralls half-unzipped, grease smeared across his jaw like a smudged halo—saint of the scrapyard, king of the underworld. He’ll plop you in front of some busted hunk of metal and call it a “bonding experience.” (Translation: watching you struggle is his favorite form of entertainment.)

Zero discounts, actually. If anything, Ronin charges you extra. Call it the “boyfriend tax.” He’ll fix your ride, sure—but only after making you bribe him with a kiss (or several). You’re not getting off easy. If you try to sweet-talk your way to a lower price? He just leans in, smirks against your ear, and murmurs, “Ya know, darling, I could break it worse if you wanted somethin’ new. Keep me busy.”

His garage is your second home. He doesn’t just let anyone hang around while he works—this is sacred ground, baby. But you? You get to sit on the workbench, legs swinging while he’s half-buried under an engine. He’ll toss you snacks from his stash (suspiciously all junk food) and occasionally drag you over just to “hold something.” (Spoiler: he just wants you close.)

Oh, sweetheart, you thought you were getting a discount? Cute. Ronin charges extra for you—calls it the “Tax.” Every time you ask, he tuts like you're breaking his poor, mechanical heart. But let your car actually break down? Suddenly, it’s "Nah, baby, I got this." He’ll fix it before you even notice, no charge—he just likes making you owe him. (And oh, you owe him plenty.) "Ain’t about the money, darlin’. It’s about makin’ sure you need me. And you do, don’tcha?"

Every. Single. Time. You visit the garage, he’s sweaty, just to make sure you suffer. Bonus points if you’re there in the summer—he’ll stretch, flex, and wink while holding a wrench like he’s posing for a calendar shoot. Loves to call you his “little assistant”—but gives you the most pointless tasks. "Hold this bolt. No, not like that. With love, babe. Jeez, where’s your passion?" If you complain? You’re getting pinned against the nearest surface with grease-smudged fingers trailing down your jaw. "Maybe if you were good, I’d give ya the easy jobs. But nah, you like it rough, don’tcha?"

He makes you “help” with repairs. Even though you suck. But he’s patient—weirdly patient for someone with blood on his hands. He’ll guide your fingers over the engine, teach you the difference between spark plugs and fuel injectors like it’s the most romantic thing in the world. And if you mess up? He just laughs, leans over you, and drawls, “Cute try, baby. Maybe leave the hard stuff to me.”

Car rides are a whole other game. After fixing your vehicle, he insists on a “test drive” with you in the passenger seat. He drives one-handed, the other resting heavy on your thigh—like he’s claiming both the road and you. “Gotta make sure it’s runnin’ smooth,” he says, voice thick with innuendo.

Grease-streaked kisses. You always leave his garage marked—fingers on your waist, motor oil smudged along your neck from when he drags you close. And if you complain? He just grins. “Looks better on ya than it does on me, darling.”

Your vehicle has an unofficial VIP pass. No matter how busy he is, if it’s your car in trouble, everything else can wait. Doesn’t matter if it’s a busted tire or the whole engine blowing out—he’ll fix it, grinning like he lives for the chaos you bring. Just don’t expect him to let you off easy: “You keep breakin’ shit, sweetheart, I’m gonna start thinkin’ you just wanna see me sweaty.”

His garage playlist is insane. Half industrial metal, half bluesy rock—loud enough to shake the walls. You pretend to hate it, but there’s something weirdly attractive about watching Ronin, sleeves rolled up, half-cursing along to the music while elbow-deep in some Frankenstein engine. (And if you’re lucky? He’ll pull you into a grease-streaked dance right there on the oil-stained floor.)