#ask the lab crew

[ask-the-lab-crew]

[Communication Systems Online]

"That should do..."

"Greeting everybody. My name is Leo, and I run a Laboratory alongside my coworkers/peers."

"We specialize in multiversal transportation, robotics, genetic engineering, combat weaponry, plus a handful of other departments."

"I personally specialize in all things combat and medical research, though I'm not exempt from discussing other topics."

"I do hope you will be able to get along well with everybody. The last thing I want is for any complications or arguments among others."

//Psst, down here!

//Yeesh, I finally got around to it, huh? Hello everyone! This is a remake of an ask blog called @ask-leo-and-company which was on a whole other account, so I remade it over on my main, @cherrithechu, as a side blog!

Here are some guidelines if you decide to shoot an ask:

-No NSFW asks

-Dont be irritating in the asks

-Any out of character asks should start with //

-Use a ❔,❓, or ? followed by the character name to ask what that character is up to

-Any post with the "#side story" tag means it's cannon, but not happening during the events of some major story that may be happening

-M!A are allowed, but nothing visual. All these icons were commissioned (except for Whisper's) and I can't draw lmao

-Hackmail is open! If you don't know what that is, it's basically Rotumblr's Pelipper Mail, but OneShot themed

-Be edgy and fun! These guys are from WAY back in middle school, so don't expect five-star writing here, I'm here here to have fun! Everybody has ties to several IPs, such as OneShot, Pokemon, Persona, Yu-Gi-Oh!, etc.

//If you wanna check out all the stuff that's happened previously, check out the original blog for yourself

//Also everyone you can ask is down below!

-Leo (He/Him) (The stereotypical stoic one, just wanting things to go to plan. Resembles and Octoling purely by coincidence after an experiment with genetic modification on himself)

-Theodore (He/Him) (The chaotic one. Theo is the kind of person to lay out his life for his pals, and just wants people to enjoy their lives! ...But don't let him near a box of matches. That didn't end well last time...)

-Abigial (She/Her) (Leo's Daughter. An artificial human that just wants to live her best life with her friends. She attends High School whenever she isn't helping around in the lab, and is slightly spoiled by her dad and Theo)

-Whisper the Zorua (They/Them) (A Hisuian Zorua who made its way into Leo's lab, and now stays by his side at all times as a friend)

-The Plushmaker (She/Her) (An ethereal being whose sole purpose is to bring comfort to mortals across the multiverse)

-Aster (He/Him) (The universe's Chaos God of Destruction. Now taking residence in a replica of Leo's body, he plans to enjoy himself after the millennia he was sealed away for)

//And with that, ask away!

[zeralight-asks]

@ask-the-lab-crew

(Theo) "Yo! Any plans for the new year? I know I'm about to party hard at a friends house I was invited to! Leo's even letting me bring snacks from the lab!"

Howdy!

I'm probably just gonna chill with the joyfs and Emma.

[rosiefairlands]

Favorite doctors and ships from SCP ?(⁠ ⁠╹⁠▽⁠╹⁠ ⁠)

Oh yes asks about SCP are a great thing to wake up to.

Glass is of course my main favorite. I also really like the peeps from Kiryu Labs, mainly Zyn, but Mark, Tai, and Riven are cool too. I remember when I first got into the fandom years ago, I really liked Iceberg, so he’s there as well lol.

As for ships, I actually don’t think I have any, apart from a few OC x canon with Glass cuz this bitch is self-indulgent lol. But apart from that, I do remember going on AO3 and seeing Glass x Iceberg, so I got curious and I did enjoy the fics I read about them. Though I feel like Iceberg x Any Therapy is a better ship that needs to happen lol.

I don’t do ships seriously tbh, Glass x Iceberg was just a one time crack ship thing I read lol, but I don’t mind seeing ships and I really enjoy seeing art of other ships!

[shmothman]

I saw that screenshot of Friede's head being in the clouds and that clicked for me. When I watched the episodes, it felt like a running gag that he apparently forgot to tell stuff to Liko, and his crew gives this 'really? again?' reaction, which gives me the impression that this has happened multiple times.

He seemed distracted, forgetful but having his head in the clouds is a better way to explain it thematic wise. He gives me Ash vibes in that sense; whenever Ash gets super into something, that's all he'll think about and he'll just do it. He also has that Ash recklessness, which his crew also appeared to be used to. Yet he's got a protective streak, stepping in to fight Amethio multiple times. It's refreshing to see an adult character stepping in to fight battles for the teenage protagonist instead of the protagonist fighting the battles themselves. Makes it feel like he's at heart a dependable person to rely on.

Apologies for rambling like this but I love thinking about his potential character from his screentime thus far! I just want to see more interactions between him and the people around him.

NO NO DONT APOLOGIZE THIS IS EXACTLY WHAT I WANT TO TALK ABOUT!!

Like yes, from a doylist perspective his forgetting to tell people things is a funny running joke—but it implies interesting things about his character! It clearly isn’t that he doesn’t care enough to tell people things—he clearly cares about liko (beyond just that he’s getting paid to be her bodyguard) and the rest of his crew, too; like Liko said, the crew put her emotions and Sprigatito’s safety above just getting her home with the pendant—and I don’t even think it’s that he’s a particularly forgetful person with most things. He couldn’t be both a professor and a ship captain (or… first mate? considering pikachu is the captain? 🤣) if he was truly just… very forgetful. There’s a lot of things to pay attention to on a ship. I think that the joke of him not telling people things has to stem from his mind just sort of… being elsewhere. He’s thinking about other things. (Cough, adhd. He’s just like me fr fr) Not that he’s completely distracted and ungrounded; he doesn’t usually act like that, and he’s demonstrably practical (holding Liko back from charging in to face Amethio and coming up with a plan for the two of them, being honest about the fact that yeah, they can’t go adventuring without money) most of the time. But the bit that gets me is his speech about the Volteccer’s goals: to solve the mysteries of pokemon, to solve the mysteries of the world. It’s lofty. He’s clearly a dreamer. I feel like the sort of person who can casually say “oh, me and my team? Yeah we’re trying to solve all the mysteries of the world!” necessarily has their head in the clouds—and quite literally for the crew of an airship.

Then of course, there’s the fact that he was introduced by the pokemon company as professor friede, though the only indication we have of anything like that so far in the show is the pokemon seminar bits—he doesn’t introduce himself as a professor, and no one on the ship refers to him that way. We’ve seen very little so far, of course, but we haven’t seen him do lab work the way every other professor in the series does. He’s not tied down to a place of research, and his goals are much broader than most of the professors we’ve met in the past 25 years. He doesn’t say he’s researching the mysteries of pokemon, he says he wants to solve them. All this to say, to be a professor and the (sort-of) captain of a traveling airship makes me imagine that he was originally a researcher, but became tired of being… well, on the ground. (I’ve said it before, but a researcher myself, 100% I’d leave it all behind to go on a grand airship adventure and solve all the mysteries of the world—so this part is a little bit… projection.) I mean, hopefully we’ll at least get some information about his past, and how the crew came together and everything… but I wanna know nowwwwww 🤣

As for recklessness and traits that he shares with Ash—I honestly (so far, with the limited information we have) wouldn’t call him very reckless. A bit cocky, yes. Dramatic, absolutely. Mouthy, for sure. And I even think he would fancy himself a little bit reckless; but everything even slightly dangerous that he’s done so far has still been… well thought-out. He clearly doesn’t rush in without a plan in place (and I’d bet a couple of backup plans, but that’s speculation again) and he definitely doesn’t do anything to put anyone else in danger. His heroic entrances, his battling style, his dramatic-ass backwards fall off the building and onto Charizard’s back—everything he does seems less like recklessness and more like a concerted effort to bring the attention onto him. I mean, so far, most of his tactical advantages have come from taunting Amethio, not risky maneuvers to beat him. He doesn’t risk himself, his pokemon, or his crew in order to achieve his goals. (Whereas Ash will very much risk himself immediately, ie all the times he’s jumped off of a cliff or building without a plan on how he’s going to land.)

As for dependability—yes, absolutely. His crew obviously trusts and looks up to him (literally; the way he was sitting up above everyone else in the scene where Liko tells them she’s decided to trust them) and he’s demonstrated so far that he’d do a lot to keep them all safe and happy. He’s good at making plans and using his opponents weak points to his advantage (realizing immediately that he can get a rise out of Amethio by taunting him and questioning his skills). He seems to be a good captain, a good trainer, and a good person overall. And hopefully he has some more hidden sides that we’ll get to see later 👀👀

AND I WANT MORE EPISODES SO I CAN KNOW MORE ABOUT HIM RIGHT NOW IMMEDIATELY 😭

[shmorp-mcdurgen]

Hmm... what would The Thing crew think of Labrats?

Depends if it's. post or pre Thing encounter. if it's post, they may. mistake them as Things, unfortunately.

[dragonofthestone]

First impressions in Wonderland:

Kumo / Kaze:

Cautious. Everything about them is unfamiliar and new, even he can quickly figure out they're dangerous and needs to be careful but also gave no hint of being an immediate threat,

Kaze taking out the large beast (Griffin) that was attacking him and Kumo just well approached seeming to want them to follow which Tim was fine to do.

Cid:

Danger. To be avoided at all costs. Besides the abundance of weird smells surrounding the guy that just bothered his nose unfortunately being around him just brought him back to the lab -not helped by him probably doing some work in what would come off as looking very lab like area so that just triggered so many red flags just as he was getting comfortable with the idea of not having to go through those things again

Kain:

Not hostile or a threat and even a simple minded Chimera could tell he might not at his best/ possibly in pain, remained cautious as always with some comfort that if they did try anything he could easily escape.

Mustang:

The utmost caution and also a danger. The smell of alchemy clings strong, different from the scent of those in the lab but still unmistakably carries the scent all alchemy has when used.

The way he moves also carries with it the same feeling as some others he'd seen before. And it terrifies the Chimera to his core, someone not to be defied and best avoided all together. (Even if not being paid attention to the moment Mustang walked into the same room he was in for the first time he shut down and froze. Barely moved a muscle and stayed quiet, head low and shrinking back just all together showing a very submissive body language, although not visible if touched you'd be able to feel him shaking all over)

Riza:

Ehh, anxious and uncertain. Can tell they're someone to be cautious around and a potential danger- also notices she often carries a lingering scent of Mustang on her too which doesn't help.

Ai/Yuu

Confusion they look like the other people- sorta- but are very small. Definitely not a threat that's about it.

---

Bonus

Chicken:

Food? Looks like food? Smells like food? Can eat?

[cybertron-after-dark]

what the FUCK happens in cyberverse

Here's a list just off the top of my head, in no particular order. MASSIVE spoilers ahead.

-Wheeljack keeps making party drugs. This is not only accepted but wholly encouraged by the Autobots. He's made the bot equivalent to cocaine so strong it made grimlock physically unable to stop himself from running around the ship at mach 5. This was the basis for an entire episode. He's also made patches that give you a direct link to the Allspark that he passed out at a party specifically to get everyone as fucked up as physically possible. I cannot overemphasize that Optimus make no effort to stop this until things turn destructive on both occasions.

-Soundwave and Shockwave completely fucking hate each other and have a whole rivalry trying to be a better and more useful follower for Megatron than each other.

-Soundwave is a fucking memelord who will play clown music or dramatic riffs to dunk on people from the soundboard he has built into his hardware.

-theres a sort of liminal dimension referred to as Unspace that you can get stuck in and if you are there for too long you will straight up disintegrate. We see this happen to the entire crew aboard the arc from different timelines several times while the main timeline crew we follow tries to escape this fate, thus dooming dozens of other timelines.

-Cheetor is basically Allspark Jesus, and he's tired of all the fighting, so he tries to have Optimus and Megatron settle their differences once and for all. The chosen method for this was making them both play the Newlywed Game. They were both terrible at it, the MegOp Divorce agenda is alive and well.

-the Quintessons invade Cybertron and stick the entire population into a simulation a la The Matrix, which slowly drains their life force until they die. This kills countless unnamed Cybertronians, both Autobot and Decepticon, as well as Hound, who does not get to appear on screen.

-the Quintessons also catch Starscream, rip his face off, and modify him into an Eldritch tentacle beast with his brain attached to two other aliens, and then appoint that amalgamation as the judge that decides the fate of the universe in regards to whether they exterminate all life within it.

-Shockwave commits suicide for Megatron's approval. He launches his spark straight into the Allspark to taint it specifically as a last desperate fuck you to the autobots.

-Soundwave acquired laserbeak by just kind of grabbing a random bird out of the sky.

-Soundblaster is an ex-decepticon that left out of shame. That shame being Soundwave beating his ass in a beatboxing competition so fuckin hard he couldn't show his face around his faction anymore.

-The autobots keep starscream captive and try to get him to take a therapy session with the Arc's AI, and he starts out willing to actually give it a shot but said AI is kind of Stupid and screamer ends up tricking him into letting him escape through an air vent to go wreak havoc instead.

-Starscream also starts a suicide cult with the other Seekers, gains control of Vector Sigma and the Allspark, has the seekers forfeit their sparks to him, thus resulting in a cosmically powered Starscream. He uses that power to "remake" his followers into scraplets that he refers to as, with nothing but love in his tone, his "children."

-Shockwave and Wheeljack are shown to be ex lab partners. Shockwave has an army of drones that look exactly like his altmode that Wheeljack helped program. They are programmed to be able to break out into a coordinated dance number at any given time. Originally this was just to make Wheeljack laugh. Shockwave kept that function in throughout the entire war and initiates it the second there's a truce and Wheeljack asks to see it again.

-Shockwave kidnaps Wheeljack at one point for Science Under Duress purposes and Wheeljack is too invested in all the sweet fuckin tech Shockwave's been making while they were apart to really care that he's being held against his will, and then proceeds to escape without too much issue because he knows Shockwave well enough to know exactly how to disable everything.

-Bumblebee distracts the Decepticons by running in front of their surveillance cameras and shaking his ass in the most underwhelming way imaginable.

-Grimlock is only stupid when he's in his altmode because it takes a lot of power to sustain and he has to sacrifice some of his higher brain functions to keep it manageable. In robot mode he talks like he went to an Ivy League college and knows what champagne tastes like. He throws upscale parties every chance he gets.

-Grimlock also helped start an anticapitalist revolution with Bumblebee when he found an underground society of insect transformers that had a rigid caste system. This was within moments of finding out that the ultra wealthy were hoarding the limited energon reserves for themselves. Grimlock is a comrade and he does not fuck around.

-Skybyte is here and he sounds like Skeletor.

-Windblade and Slipstream are nemeses and somehow it's even more toxic yuri coded than Arcee and airachnid in tfp.

-speaking of Arcee, she's besties with Grimlock. They at one point have a physical fight over who gets to die to protect the other.

-hot rod and soundwave are forced to share leadership over the team of bots and cons that escaped the quintessons' simulation and it's packed with so much homoerotic tension its unreal.

-Maccadam is some kind of lovecraftian war machine that can unfold himself into a whole armory whenever he feels like it. We have no idea what his whole altmode looks like, all we see are the ominous shadows of the weapons on the walls. He uses this specifically as a threat to keep anyone from fighting in his bar bc he's insistent it remain neutral ground. He also can kinda just. See into the future. And casually drops prophecies that get written off as spoonerisms until they turn out to be relevant.

-Optimus Prime has horrific social anxiety that he can kind of power through when he's in a crisis, but the second things are chill and he has to give a speech at a party or something he simply does not know how to function.

-the entire planet of Velocitron gets taken over by cosmic rust and everyone inhabiting it that couldn't escape in time was killed horrifically.

-cosmos is a girl and she hangs out with a dude named Meteorfire who is, for all intents and purposes, just robot Steve Irwin.

-Astrotrain keeps closing doors in people's faces for the funny

-Megatron is killed by a version of himself from an alternate universe that went nuts and starting creating a master race of perfect Decepticons to inhabit Cybertron. Said perfect Decepticons were carbon copies of idw Tarn in all but personality.

-Acidstorm is canonically genderfluid and keeps switching between male and female seeker frames whenever they feel like it

-Kup, who had not been in the show at all until this point, decides to show up and narrate an entire episode like hes giving a political speech.

And, the infamous one we all know and love

-Megatron is a twitch streamer and he livestreams Starscream's fucking funeral. The chat has custom Decepticon emotes.

[goomyloid]

(original au post was getting kind of long... so time for a new one)

something happy for a change? kanako, stuck in her timeloop still, suddenly arrives upon a happier ending, in which clover decides to stay in the underground.

(more info below as always)

~ Sunshine Ending (Sunflower)

after the horrifying events of the previous ending (in which the ketsukane estate burns down with the two inside of it), kanako wakes up once more the very moment she died in that house.

isn't this becoming too much...? how long can she go on like this? the one time she tried to use force to make clover stay, it ended in disaster. she didn't want this.

that is, of course, until ceroba finally steps in. she finds her daughter like this and realizes that something is definitely going on. she puts away her lab coat, casting her research aside for the moment. some things are more important; she can't believe she let herself forget that. kanako needs her.

so, they start going outside and into town together. starlo and his crew are delighted to see ceroba out and about for once... she'd really become more of a hermit these past few years.

for once, kanako isn't alone. so when she spots a particular bluebird accompanying a human in Oasis Valley, she thinks that this could actually be her chance. things are different, now...

and things do play out differently. or, maybe more familiarly...? starlo sees a trusty sharpshooter deputy in clover and takes them in for training. ceroba is able to start off on the right foot with clover as well, being able to see them more as a person than an opportunity for research.

but maybe most importantly, kanako gets the chance to grow close to clover more naturally, as true friends. there's no rush or desperate force like before; for once, it seems like clover actually wants to stay.

with all of them together, kanako realizes why.

ah... i think i understand now. having one friend is good, but that's not really what you wanted, was it?

you... wanted a family, right? support, and company... more than just me alone.

it feels like there should be a sting there -- kanako not being "enough" to get clover to stay -- but strangely, it really doesn't hurt. seeing clover happy, having fun, making friends...

after last time, this feels like all she could have ever asked for.

the two become like siblings. (where have I heard this before?) they get into Shenanigans and all that fun stuff. the ketsukane estate is admittedly far nicer than the breaking house starlo and co. stay in, so clover begins to share kanako's room. every night is like a sleepover...!

they have fun, lots of fun together. ceroba hushes them, urging them to sleep in the early hours of the morning after they stayed up so late talking and giggling. kanako never has to eat another meal alone. clover is surprisingly good at mew mew love blaster. every day is so fun and exciting. this is what she had dreamed of for so long now -- the things she wanted all those previous times. she really just needed a little help to make it actually happen.

she's so happy. everything is perfect. she's satisfied, finally.

so...

so then, why...

why, after so long,

does she wake up again in an empty bedroom, back where she started?

[takamimami]

The Supernova Captains | how they 'tell' you that they missed you.

Pairing: Kidd, Law, and Luffy x fem!reader (use of y/n)

little blurbs about how the captains tell you that they missed you when they were gone, even if they don't use those words :3

CW: SMUT, fluff and smut, cunnilingus, fingering, pretty tame/nothing crazy

🔞NSFW; MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS KEEP IT MOVING🔞

👒

Whenever Luffy is away from you for an extended period of time, you have come to expect that the days immediately following your reunion will be spent with him hanging on you, literally. Every second he can he is either leaning on you while hugging you around your shoulders, sometimes putting more weight on you than he realizes, or he is napping with his head tucked in your lap as you gently play with his hair. He always returns from his missions exhausted, often taking extended naps that have you on the verge of being concerned, even checking that he is still breathing every once in a while. 

If he wakes up and he's not in your lap, he’ll immediately begin to look for you, craving your presence as if you two had spent a lifetime apart. He’d finally end up finding you in the kitchen, helping Sanji prepare some food for him since his routine is usually “eat, sleep, and repeat” when he is recovering from a mission. Once he finds you he’d wrap his arms around you and nuzzle his face into your back, breathing in your scent and letting out a satisfying sigh.

“Don’t know what smells better, you or the food,” he’d mutter playfully as he hung onto you like a koala, making it hard for you to stand up straight, but laughing at his compliment none the less. After his meal he would drag you with him back to his quarters, lazily plopping down on the bed with you nestled in his arms. He’d pepper gentle kisses over your face and neck as he slowly moved down your body, his kisses growing sloppier as he moved lower and lower.

“Sanji’s food is good, but this is the meal I was really missing,” he’d chuckle softly as he pulled down your shorts and moved your underwear to the side, wasting no time before gliding his tongue through your folds and circling it around your clit. Your body would squirm at the sudden sensation, and he’d throw an arm around your hip to hold you in place as he guided his tongue deeper, his nose tickling your clit as he massages your walls with his tongue.

He’d hum in satisfaction as your pussy spasmed for him, moving his mouth up to suck and lick at your clit as you push his face away, trying to catch your breath.

“‘M still hungry, Y/N,” he’d drawl, smirking as he brushes away your hands and connects his lips to your clit again as you gripped the sheets tightly, never one to deprive him of his favorite meal.

🐯

Since it always seems like he is off doing side quests, Law makes it very well known that he missed you, especially if the mission was any bit stressful (aka the straw hats were involved).

When he finally reunites with his crew, you are always the first one he seeks out, often finding you hidden away in his lab reading or helping Bepo with one-off tasks. When he finds you he’ll usually pull you in for a tight hug, his lanky arms wrapping tightly around your middle as he rests his cheek on the top of your hair. This usually lasts for some time, the crew knowing to leave you two be. You can practically feel Law’s tension in his shoulders melting away with each deep inhale of your scent, his eyes shut as he relishes being in your vicinity once more. 

Once he’s held you long enough he’ll lift his head and kiss your forehead, and this usually follows with you asking him how his mission went. If he tells you, it means it wasn’t as big of a headache as he expected, and if he ignores your question and instead asks how you were while he was away, you know that is his way of telling you he doesn’t want to talk about it. He’d much rather hear you talk about yourself than re-live the hellish events of trying to get Luffy to stick to a plan.

But, the way Law really shows you how much he missed you is when he’s finally able to get you alone. He’ll take his time gently undressing you, appreciating every curve of your body as he runs his soft hands over them, missing the way your skin feels beneath his fingers. He’d revel in the way his fingers would leave trails of goosebumps everywhere they went, letting out a small his when he finally swiped a finger through your drenched folds.

“Fuck, I missed you,” he’d whisper, dropping his head down to your breast he was kneading in his other hand, taking your nipple between his teeth teasingly. He’d keep his eyes on you the entire time, unable to look away as he watched your face contort in pleasure. When he slips the first finger inside you he’d feel his cock twitch in his pants, but it's the sound that leaves your mouth as he curls a second finger into your velvet walls that would have him nearly coming in his pants.

But he would compose himself, for now, working his magic fingers inside you as your moans filled the room, a soothing song to the chaos inside his head. He’d have you like this for hours, bringing you to the edge over and over again just so he could hear the way your voice caught in your throat when you cried out his name and feel how your body trembled from the over-stimulation. 

“Just one more,” he’d plead breathlessly into your ear as you clamped around his fingers, regardless of your half-hearted attempts at protesting, “Gotta make up for lost time.”

🌷

Kidd would never admit how much he misses you when he’s away, simply for the sheer fact that he is a stubborn man and would rather die than hear his crew tease him about yet another thing when it comes to you. He grows incredibly restless on the return trip to the Victoria Punk, and either Heat, Wire, or Killer are sure to point out that you are the reason Kidd is in such a rush to return home.

So much so, that when he returns from a mission away he makes it a point not to seek you out and instead disappears into his workshop, knowing that is going to be the first place you come looking for him once you learn of his arrival.

Knowing how headstrong your lover is, you head below deck as soon as you notice Killer and Wire making their way to their quarters, almost positive that is where you will find Kidd.

You’d knock on the door and hear a grunt from inside before swinging open the door, Kidd’s eyes flicking over to you briefly before he turns back to whatever gadget he’d decided to work on.

Once you reach where he is seated you’d massage his shoulders or run your fingers through his hair, trying to gauge what mood he had returned home in. If he was in a good mood he’d stay quiet, letting you continue your ministrations until you inevitably broke the silence and asked about the mission. However most of the time, he’d grumble and flinch away from your touch, “What is it? Can’t ya see I’m busy?”

Growing accustomed to this facade, you’d sit on the bench near his workstation while he worked, grabbing a book from the shelf to occupy yourself or simply just watch him work until he dropped the act. 

When he can no longer take the distance anymore he’ll reach over with his metal arm and pull you into his lap roughly, a cheeky smirk on his face as he observes the excitement in your eyes.

“You miss me that much, Y/N?” he’d growl in your ear, pulling you closer to his chest when he felt your heart rate quicken. “Couldn’t wait to come in here and distract me, hm?”

His teasing sends a chill down your spine, and you feel the tent in his pants grow as you rock your hips into him teasingly. You’d nod your head as you looked up at him, biting down on your lip as he picked you up and carried you down the hall to his quarters. 

He’d hurriedly kick off his boots and pull off his pants after dropping you on the bed, nearly stumbling over as he made his way back to the bed. Your giggle at his clumsiness would make him growl lowly, and you’d teasingly laugh even louder as he approached the bed.

“Maybe you missed me a little bit too, hm, Captain?”

“Not a fucking chance,” he’d snarl as he flips you over, pulling your hips up into the air and bullying his fat cock inside of you without warning. He’d press your head into the pillow as your moans grew louder, trying to drown out the sounds of you so he wouldn’t come prematurely. He’s nearly always unsuccessful, however, his cock twitching as he pulls out of you and hot cum leaks from his cock and your cunt.

It’s then you press your luck by flipping onto your back and smirking up at him, propping your self up on your elbows as you lick your lips. “Need a minute?”

Your teasing has him lunging forward and kissing you roughly, biting your bottom lip as he pushes his semi-hard cock back inside you, a grunted “fuck you,” leaving his lips as he begins rocking his hips back into you again.

my last supernova captains post got so much love, tysm :') i've been recovering from a migraine and pms-ing so sorry if there are typos or mistakes anywhere, I kinda posted this without proof reading lol :3 lemme know what you think, and if you liked it, I would love it if you liked and reblogged to spread the love <3 ✨come say hai :3✨

Do not copy, repost or translate.

[archangeldyke-all]

hiii I just found your blog from a recommendation and your writing is sososos freaking good omgosh. I was wondering If I could request nurse!reader who is hired by silco to help his team when they get injured and sevika is acting more careless during her fights just so she can go see her 🙏🙏🙏🙏

-💌

okay this is so cute

men and minors dni

you'd been working for silco for months before you even meet sevika.

from what you've heard from the crew, sevika doesn't ask for help. she serves herself at the bar downstairs, she goes on her missions alone, and she patches herself up after fights. if she can't reach her wounds so be it.

so you're not surprised when the first time you're introduced to the woman, she's bleeding out, half sedated, and still resisting the way singed and silco are dragging her into your little office.

"'m fine, jus' need a drink..." sevika insists as they lay her down. you chuckle at your patient, pulling on a pair of gloves.

"you're bleeding out." you point out to the woman. she huffs.

"'s a scratch."

"the knife's still inside you."

sevika blinks down at her side and pouts, like she hadn't noticed the knife sticking out of her side.

"will you be able to handle this?" singed asks, slowly backing away toward the door. silco's already vanished. you nod and wave singed away-- sending him back to his creepy lab to run experiments.

"you're the new nurse?" sevika slurs as you help her lay down, preparing injections and stitches.

"nice to finally meet you." you chuckle, nodding down at sevika as you hand her a vial of shimmer. "drink this." you ask. sevika obeys surprisingly easily, not taking her eyes off you once. "i got something on my face?" you ask.

sevika's eyes get droopy-- the shimmer's doing it's job and knocking her out. but right before she sleeps, she shakes her head no. "jus' pretty, 's all." she mumbles, before closing her eyes and snoring.

you blink down at your patient, butterflies fluttering in your stomach at her words.

you only remember that you're supposed to be working when her blood starts dripping down onto the floor.

after that first meeting, you start seeing sevika a lot more frequently.

she comes in the next week with a nasty gash on her cheek-- courtesy of some brass knuckles-- and a bleeding lower lip.

and despite the fact that you get her fixed up in fifteen minutes, sevika spends the rest of the afternoon in your office, making small talk with you and asking you about your time with silco so far.

she's surprisingly conversational-- funny in a deadpan, blink and you'll miss it kind of way-- and the two of you laugh so much that you go home that evening with sore abs and cheeks.

you see her again not three days later-- her good arm having been dislocated in a fight.

"you don't know how to do this to yourself?" you ask as you try to get the proper angle on her arm. sevika's moaning into a pillow in a way that's making you think horrible, dirty things.

"y-you're more gentle." she grunts, before biting the pillow again.

her words fluster you, and you shove her arm back in place without warning.

sevika howls and you cringe. "sorry, sorry. it's over now though." you try to soothe her, gently petting her hair.

sevika's pained moans get quieter, but she doesn't lift up from where she's collapsed against you in her shock. instead, she nuzzles just a little closer, wrapping both of her arms around your waist.

you gulp-- hoping she can't hear how fucking fast your heart's beating in your chest-- before gently wrapping your arms around her shoulders. "you okay?" you ask.

sevika nods against you. "yeah. are you?" she asks, an offer to pull away.

you just cling to her. "i'm great."

sevika starts visiting you on a daily basis after that.

from a puncture wound to a paper cut-- sevika will take any excuse to see you.

you see right through her. it's hard not to, when she's always milking her injuries to get kisses on her bandages and hugs and head scratches. you love it. she's fucking adorable, and she's keeping your mostly boring work interesting. especially since she sticks around for hours after you're officially done with her.

but then she comes in one day-- more like she's dragged in unconscious-- with a gunshot wound to the chest, and your heart stops.

you and singed work overnight to get her stable. and then you stay by her bedside for the whole day, waiting for her to wake up.

the moment she does, you burst into tears. sevika just pulls you into bed with her, letting you curl up around her. before you fall asleep, your ear pressed right against her heart so you can be sure she's fine, you can feel her press a gentle kiss to your head, her own arms wrapping around you.

she gets a week off to recover, but you see her again two days later.

"what the fuck are you doing here?!" you ask as sevika walks into your office. she's holding a paper bag in her hands. "if silco is making you work so soon after you were shot i'm gonna fucking kill--"

"relax." sevika giggles, placing the paper bag on your desk. "i, uh. i have a confession." she says.

you giggle. "that you gotta crush on me?" you guess. "you're kinda obvious, sev." you tease.

sevika rolls her eyes and flips you off. "no, shut up. you like me back." she says. you giggle. "i, uh. i mighta been fighting stupidly to see you more often." she mumbles. "y'know. blockin' with my face, 'n shit. and it was workin' real well, but then i got shot and i realized maybe i should just... ask you to lunch, or something."

you grin. "it might be easier for all of us."

"fuck off." sevika giggles. "look. i got us jericho's." she gestures to the paper bag on your desk. you grin.

"sit." you demand, pointing to the free chair by your desk. sevika smirks at you, and pulls her chair out, before pausing.

"just, one thing..." she mutters.

"oh! don't worry about it, i started storin' hot sauce in my desk for you, sev--" she cuts you off with her lips to yours, and you sigh, melting into the kiss and wrapping your arms around her.

by the time she pulls away, her lipstick is smudged, and you're certain the food is cold. you don't care. especially not when sevika sinks down into the chair across from you with the sweetest smile you've ever seen.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@shimtarofstupidity @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@sevikaspillowprincess @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @k3n-dyll @sevsdollette

@ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re @raphaellearp

@iamastar @sevikitty @mascdom @nhaaauyen

@mirconreadzztuff22 @veoomvroom @lushh-s3vik4s @katyawooga @lesbodietcoke

[livelaughloveluffy]

comfort - trafalgar water d. law

a/n: listen... i was always a law simp pre-wano..... but wano law 😭😭😭 you will always be famous. and the brain rot is just so intense for him that i had to write this fic

a/n: i'm still adjusting to my antidepressants and literally have 9 labs due this week so forgive me for not being insanely active; i'm mainly just trying to survive 💀

nothing but fluff here! 💗

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when he comforts you:

-the captain goes above and beyond to silently help you out. chores you were supposed to do around the polar tang are miraculously already done, a cold glass of water and a small snack left on your nightstand when you wake up, your laundry folded and put away.

-and it doesn't stop at that. law wants to make sure you can relax and destress, so this sweet man will run you a bath, dimly lit with candles and a glass of wine, and he'll stay to gently wash your hair and give back massages. fully allowing you to just enjoy the warmth of the soapy water and his touch.

-he'll always make time in his schedule for cuddles, even if that means the two of you are crammed into his desk chair, he'll hold you tight to him, gently stroke your hair, and whisper sweet nothings into your ear.

-while advice isn't law's strongest area of expertise (he's much too pessimistic and blunt for that 💀) he is a fantastic listener. once he knows you aren't looking for a solution to your problems but just someone to support you while you rant, he'll sit through hours and hours of ranting and rambling, attentive eyes on you, his hand on the smalls of your back rubbing soft circles into you, even when he's busy he'll always lend an ear to your problems and a shoulder to cry on.

-he's a lot more affectionate than usual when he notices you haven't been yourself. pda suddenly doesn't bother him anymore, and he won't leave a room before giving you some kisses, his arm will be around your waist as he address the crew, or he'll grab your hand and intertwine his fingers with yours.

-when you're sick, injured, or on your period: law will provide literally the best cuddles you could ever ask for, his silk sheets against your body, the smell of his cologne filling the room, his warm body next to yours, your head on his chest, he'll let your fingers trace over the lines of his tattoos with absolutely no protesting. he's going to do the most for you, and if you didn't know him as well as you do, you'd truly have no idea who was leaving little chocolates and love notes on your pillow, a new book on your bed, your favorite drink stocked up in the fridge, and the fresh flowers on your nightstand everyday. he'll never address it or come out to take credit for it, he'd just do it. the captain will shower you in kisses much more than usual, on your cheek, the top of your head, a small peck on your lips, he's much more affectionate as its the subtle way he expresses his love and worry for you.

when he needs comforting:

-law is not the kind of guy to talk about his problems. a lot of this is because he struggles with verbalizing his feelings, worries, and stresses, but also because he doesn't find any relief in it. you instantly know when the captain needs you by the way he asked for you to meet him in his office. the second the door closes, he's picking you up, wrapping your legs around his waist and holding you so close to him, the faint scent of bourbon vanilla fills your nose as you bury your face into the crook of his neck.

-there's nothing the captain loves more than the feeling of your fingers tangled up in his soft dark raven locks, with your face resting against his chest you can hear the way his heart beat slightly slows fully enjoying the sensation of your touch.

-law finds lots of solace in hearing your voice, it's simply music to his ears. he'll listen to stories about your past or adventures you've been on, rambles about your hobbies, what you did today, anything and everything. he loves the distraction it provides him as well as the comforting ambient noise it provides while he works.

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a/n: soft law my beloved 😭😭😭😭😭 i totally forgot the whole "when you're sick" section of this fic when i first posted it, so i panic wrote that shit so damn fast 💀 it's been a minute since i wrote one of these 😭😭

a/n: enjoyed this fic? here's my masterlist!!

a/n: if you are interested in being added to my taglist: here's a google form!!!

[siriuslyapuff]

mic'd up for aces v fever/ k.martin

kate martin x reader!

summary: you're mic'd up at the Aces game versus the Indiana Fever as your girlfriend plays her (and your) best friend.

!𝑨𝑩𝑩𝒀 𝑺𝑷𝑬𝑨𝑲𝑺¡

okay okay my first wbb fic on here (lol pls be nice)

also, this is my first ever y/n fic so...

Two days before the Aces were set to play the Fever, you were sent an email from the Aces media team. Kate had been sitting behind you as you opened it, laughing immediately at their request. They were practically begging you to be mic’d up at the game, courtside. They wanted you of course, due to your connection as a Hawkeye, deciding to come back for a fifth year instead of entering the draft as you were going for your masters. It also helped that their star rookie was your girlfriend. 

It was an easy decision. You told them, yes, ignoring the teasing from your girlfriend as you did so. Honestly, it seemed like a great idea to you, getting to commentate on your girlfriend and your best friend as they went head to head for the first time as pros. 

“Baby, you realize this is the perfect opportunity for me to embarrass the hell out of you and Cinamon?” Kate got quiet real fast after that threat. 

🂡🂡🂡

The day of the game had arrived, and you decided to go with Kate to the lab, as it was a home game for the Aces. As soon as you arrived the team swarmed upon you, laughing and asking for you to add in specific commentary tonight during the game. 

“No Syd I will not tell everyone you’re single and ready to mingle,” you playfully shove the older woman, laughing with everyone else as she starts to fake cry. “Go away you baby, I gotta go get mic’d.” 

They all began to hype you up as the media crew came over with a little clip-on mic and pac. You listened intently as they walked you through how it would work tonight. You’d be seated right next to your coaches, and former coach Lisa Bluder, and would have the mic the whole game. You couldn’t be more excited as you knew this would give your girlfriend even more publicity and love from the media and fans. 

You turned to her as she grabbed your hand. 

“I’ll see you in a bit when we head over to Michalaub,” she leaned in, connecting your lips, leaving you wanting just a little bit more. 

🂡🂡🂡

The media team had your mic on as you and Kate made your way into the arena for pre-game shoot-outs. The Fever was already there practicing and you giggled to yourself as you saw Caitlin stretching. 

“Hey guys!” You turned to the cameras, “My name is y/n l/n, some of you may know me as number 26 for the Iowa Hawkeyes, and my favorite title, Kate Martin’s girlfriend!” 

The entire team started laughing as you introduced yourself and you turned around to shush them. Cait couldn’t know you were mic’d up yet. It had to be a surprise. 

“Anyways, I’m going to be mic’d up courtside tonight at the game versus the Fever. But for now, I have a reunion to get to.” You winked at the camera, spinning on your heel and cupping a hand to your mouth. 

“Hey, Cinamon!” Her head whipped around from where she was standing with your girlfriend, the two of them having had their reunion. 

“Tink?” Her eyes went wide with disbelief, she’d known you’d be at the game but had no idea you’d be at shoot around. 

The pair of you collided, and she spun you around the same way Kate had done to her. Tears immediately pooled in your eyes at the contact. You and Caitlin had been friends for years, both of you meeting when you played for USA in 2018. You both committed to Iowa and roomed together Freshman year, she was the sister you’d always wanted, and it had been painful to be away from her. 

“How are you?” You whispered, being mindful of the fact that you were mic’d up. 

“I’m fine,” she smiled at you, repeating what she’d said to Kate, and you knew she’d also seen through the bs answer, but you let it go. 

“I’m all mic’d up tonight,” you grinned, pointing at the mic on your shirt, “Kmart’s scared I’ll embarrass her.” 

“Hey, I never said that!” Kate butted into the conversation, “She’s lying CC.” 

“You calling me a liar right now?” You raised an eyebrow, eyes glancing down at the mic on your chest. 

Kate folded immediately, “No Baby, I would never.” 

You and Caitlin look at each other before bursting out into laughter. Some things never change. 

🂡🂡🂡

“Hello, Las Vegas!” You had a cameraman pointed at you from next to one of the hoops, the media crew had told you they had a few different angles on you, all connected to your mic. “I’m here with some of my favorite women!” 

You wrapped an arm around your former head coach as she laughed, wrapping her own arm around your shoulders. 

“Hey Tink,” she pressed a kiss to the side of your head. She’d been the one to give you your on-court nickname. It started as ‘Tinkerbell’ because you would flit around the court like you were flying while playing defense, and the team eventually just shortened it to ‘Tink’. 

“Hey, coach! You excited for tonight?” You pulled on your shirt so she could talk into the mic. 

“Very excited, it’s going to be weird not yelling at Kate and Caitlin, but I guess I’ll manage.” You and Coach Jan erupted into laughter, and so did Coach Hammon who was listening in with a smirk. 

“I’m also joined by my new head coach!” You positioned your body to face Jan, grinning at her. 

“You excited to see our girls play?” 

“Of course I am! I’ve got my phone ready to take all the behind-the-scenes pictures and videos.” 

“Me too!” You grin, “I can’t wait to hit Caitlin and Katie with the evil 0.5s.” 

You hear the whistle blow, and watch everyone come out onto the floor. 

“There’s Cinamon!” Your eyes find Caitlin and she sends you a grin. “Look at her, my sister from another mister.” 

You watch as the Aces get possession of the ball, eyes following Caitlin as she defends Kelsey. Moving down the court you can’t help but laugh as you watch Jackie attempting to guard her. 

“Jackie’s in for a challenge, CC is hard as hell- oh shit- wait fuck- no sorry, am I allowed to swear? Whatever, Cait’s hard to guard. She’s knocked me on my ass -sorry- a few too many times.” 

“Let’s go!” You stand up as Jackie drains the three, smirking at Cait as she runs past you. 

“Cait that's not your basket.” You laugh as she shoots after Kelsey gets a foul. 

Cait turns the ball over and you share a look with Coach Bluder, this has been a problem since you were Freshmen. Caitlin just sees the game differently and is six steps ahead of everyone else. It was you and Kate who were able to keep up with her pace, which is what made you so unstoppable on the court. It would take time for the Fever to match what she was putting down. 

“Come on Cait, shake it off.” You watch as she misses a three, shaking your head, “she's gonna be pissed about that.” 

Your eyes flit away from the game and onto the figure of your girlfriend as she sits on the bench, eyes fixed on Caitlin and the game. 

“Kmoney is locked in everyone, she’s got her serious face on.” 

Caitlin fouls and you let out an audible “oh shit” before apologizing into your mic again. 

“Cait never loses the ball like that- oh she got it back!” 

Your eyes flick between the bench and the court, waiting for the moment Kate takes off her warmups. 

“A’ja’s going to have a nasty bruise from that.” You watch her get popped in the face, the entire crowd going crazy over it. 

“Guys I’m just sitting here waiting for my girlfriend to go in,” you smile at one of the cameras pointed at you, before pointing at the jersey you’re wearing with Kate’s number on it. 

“I'm repping 20 for a reason. Ooo that sounds like the Sabrina Carpenter song ‘Pushing 20’,” you start humming the song. “Kate when you watch this, that should be your theme song.” 

“LET’S GO!” You jump up from your seat as Caitlin drains her first three of the night, holding up three fingers at her. “That’s my best friend!” You side-eye your girlfriend who’s looking at you with a raised eyebrow “Sorry Katie. You’re still number one in my heart.” 

“Okay CC’s on the bench guys, geez she looks wiped already, girl needs some sleep.” 

“Okay, Megan’s getting ready to check in, a win for the Hawkeyes tonight.” You high-five her as she passes you. “Guys I never played with Megan, but she was a legend when CC and I came in as Rookies.” 

Your girlfriend comes running towards you, “Yes Baby!” You catch her warmup shirt that she tosses aside slapping her ass as she passes. 

“My girl is so fine,” you’ve completely forgotten your coaches are sitting next to you until Julie reaches over. 

“Hey, that’s still my niece Tink!” 

“Sorry, Julie!” Caitlin also gets up to check in, squatting down right next to Kate. You watch them exchange smirks, knowing they’ll be guarding each other. “Here we go, Coach!” 

You nudge Coach Bluder who looks a bit teary-eyed herself. 

“Shit Kelsey,” you catch the ball that bounces out of bounds keeping KP from falling on you. 

“Sorry y/n,” she grins before locking back into the game. 

The buzzer goes and you stand up as Kate and Caitlin check into the game together, “That’s my girl!” 

“Guys I might start crying and that’s embarrassing.” You say as you sit back down, eyes filling up with tears. “It’s weird seeing them in different colors, and sitting on the side instead of being on the floor with them.” 

“Sorry guys you might have to cut this,” you stifle a small sob as you watch them defend each other. It was one thing talking about it, and making jokes, but seeing it happen, and not playing yourself was a whole other thing that had your throat tightening. 

“I’m filming!” Jan says, making you let out a choked laugh. You push back the tears, telling yourself to be happy that they’re both living out their dreams. 

You pull out your phone, taking a few photos and videos of your girl and her best friend as they guard each other for the first time outside of carver-hawkeye. 

They’re both trying to play it cool, but the smile on their faces as they sprint down the court towards you tells a different story. 

“CC and Kmart together again.” You point to Cait who points back giving you a grin. 

“All that’s missing is their Tink.” Coach Bluder says, patting your knee. 

“Look at my girl go!” You grin, pointing at Kate who grabbed the ball in the turnover, making her way down the court. 

“How is that not Aces Ball!?” You’re just as pissed as your girlfriend, who’s gotten good at challenging ref’s over the years. “She’s going to complain about that to me later guys,” you whisper into the mic. 

“Okay guys, the first quarter is over. We had our on-court reunion with my favorite Hawkeyes. How are we feeling, because I’m emotional.” You’re having a one-sided conversation with yourself as Coach Bluder gets up to go sit with the commentators for the second quarter. 

“Guys she’s starting in the second quarter! My girl is a pro now!” 

“I’m never letting that go CC,” you say as you watch her basically throw the ball out of bounds. 

“Look at her, I’m literally the luckiest girl in the world.” 

“Cait just missed that three and it landed in Katie’s hands, once upon a time that would have ended up as an assist.” 

Your eyes widen as you watch Kate go down, her knee at a weird angle, your heart in your throat. “That better not be a bad fall.” You say to Jan, “Thank God.” You mutter as she gets up, sprinting down the court.

“Oh shit, that looked like it hurt,” all respect for your language went out the window the moment Kate fell. You were fired up, the worry for your girlfriend at the max. Even as you watched Cait get smacked in the eye. 

“Cinamon shoots two.” She drains the first, “nice CC,” drains the second, “easy money.” 

“Good job Baby,” Kate smiles at you, hand grazing your leg as she walks back to the bench. 

“Syd babes that was a flop.” You laugh watching her go down. 

“Get some Money!” Kate runs past you again to check-in. “Katie in, CC out.” 

“Shit Kate!” Your hand flys to your mouth as you watch her ankle go, and the limp-hop she does after. “That is not good guys. She shook it off pretty good, but I can tell when my girl is in pain.” 

Kate goes down again, and you can’t help but clench your teeth as you hear the skid of her thigh on the court. “Come on baby, shake it off.” She gets up slower this time, you can tell it’s wearing on her, but she's pushing through. 

“Yes, Money Martin with the assist!” 

“Jesus Christ, is it throw y/n’s girlfriend to the ground day or something?” Kate goes down yet again, this time a foul is called, thankfully. A’ja runs to pull her up and you grin, “Look at A’ja helping my girl out like the good vet she is.” 

You turn your head to look over at Caitlin who has her face buried in her towel, only her eyes showing, and you know it’s her way of keeping her eyes on the game without revealing anything. But you can see worry in the crease between her eyebrows, you’re both not liking the ground time Kate’s been getting. 

Kate walks past you as she comes in for the time-out. She sends you a nod, letting you know she’s okay. 

“Okay guys, sorry for the lack of comments, it’s been a bit tense here. Gotta make sure my girl is fine before I can be commentating.” 

“You would make a terrible sports commentator,” Coach Bluder says, laughing at the put-out look on your face. 

“Cooked by Bluder, everyone!” You hold your hand to your chest in mock hurt, “demolished by my coach. But alas, she’s right. I’d just be too busy talking about my girlfriend to be a good commentator.” 

Coach leans closer to you, “She’s censoring herself for you guys, these are tame compared to the comments she drops during Hawkeye practices and games.” 

“Okay, enough mic time for you coach!” 

“Look at her go bringing the ball up! My little pro.” You practically have heart eyes, and for the first time, you see yourself projected on the jumbotron. 

“Oh okay, I see how it is,” You grin, finding the camera that’s projecting you, winking pointing to your jersey, then the court where Kate is.

The crowd goes insane, causing some of the players to look up, earning a laugh from Caitlin and a wink from Kate. 

“I’m more popular than both of them combined.” 

Kate comes back to the bench again and you squeeze her hand as she passes. She sends you a smile, finding her seat next to Megan again, both of you locking back into the game. 

“Let's go! Halftime baby!” You stand from your seat. “See you guys after the break!” 

🂡🂡🂡

“Okay everyone I’m back! Let's go! I have a feeling we’ll be getting some money this quarter.” 

You turn to look at the empty seats around you. “Well, you may notice I am now awkwardly here alone. Coach Bluder and Coach Jenson are off socializing, so I’m left to man the fort.” 

“I can’t believe they called that a foul,” you mutter, as Coach Hammon goes to challenge the foul a second time. 

“My lover is back in the game, you guys.” You watch as Smith misses both foul shots. 

“That was a waste of a foul.” 

“MONEY!” You shout, jumping to your feet as Kate scores her first points of the day, draining a three with ease. “That’s my fucking girl! Let’s fucking go! We are so back!” 

Kate points to you as she runs down the court, making a heart with her hands as you hold up three fingers. 

“Get her babe!” Kate’s on Caitlin again, and your bias towards your girlfriend begins to show as she plays solid defense. 

After A’ja’s fouled you can see Caitlin talking to the ref about Kate, you can’t make out what they’re saying, but it’s got Kate smirking. 

“They’re talking mad shit to each other, I just know it,” you whisper into the mic. “I wonder how personal those insults are getting.” 

“Baby’s gone beast mode,” you say as you watch Kate celebrating A’ja’s shot. 

“Look at her cheesin’ isn’t she the cutest.” You watch Kate grin at whatever Caitlin says to her. 

“Kmoney for the block!” You yell, “a fucking beast!” 

You stand as she goes for the three, but it rims and falls out of the basket, “shake it off, baby! Plenty more buckets to make!”

“Quarter three is over guys, and my beautiful girlfriend has been burning up the court!” 

“That’s my fucking girlfriend!” You stand throwing up three fingers as Kate drains her second three of the night. “Redemption baby!” 

She points at you as she runs back down the court. 

“Kmart is on fire right now guys!” 

“That’s a fucking foul! Yeah, call that shit! It’s in Let’s fucking go!” You’re on your feet, ignoring the laughs from your coaches at your yelling, you’re saying everything you can’t say when you’re on the bench. 

“My girl is the goat guys. She’s on fucking fire.” 

Kate's eyes find yours, grinning when she sees you standing, clapping for her, a triumphant smile on your face. 

“Drained it!” You watch her make the foul shot, clapping your hands together as you finally sit back down. The jumbotron is split between the two of you, one half showing you’re over the top reaction and the other replaying her basket. 

Caitlin stands in front of you as she checks back into the game. “Let’s go CC,” you can’t see her face, but you can sense her little smirk. 

“Y’all see the bruises on that girl’s arms? Geez, maybe I need to send her some arm guards for real.” Coach Bluder bursts out into laughter at that. 

“Katie’s back on the bench guys, so my commentary will be limited as I will now spend this time admiring her.” Your coaches snort, as they know this is a very common occurrence for you. But you ignore them, eyes finding the tired ones of your girlfriend. 

‘you okay?’ you mouth, looking at her intently. 

She nods, ‘I’m good, love you.’ 

‘I love you too.’ 

Your eyes move back to the court, finding Caitlin’s very tired-looking figure. Her hands are on her knees and you just know she's done for the night. She spends more time in the game than on the bench, and it’s wearing on her. WNBA is way more physical and demanding compared to the NCAA, and Caitlin is getting the short end of the stick. 

You pull out your phone, pulling up her contact. 

‘cinnamon, if i don’t receive photo evidence of you resting over the next few days. i’ll fly to indiana and sit next to your bed while you sleep.’ 

You hit send, knowing she won’t see it until after the game, and that you could tell her in person, but this way she knows you were thinking about it during the game itself. 

“CC is 100% done for the night guys, she’s tired.” You say as you watch her check out of the game and head to the bench. 

“But my girl is back in playing the last few minutes of the game!” 

The quarter moves on and your eyes intently follow Kate as she runs up and down the court. But you’re silent as you observe, too entranced with Kate to remember your mic’d. That is until she’s fouled again.

Your breath catches in your throat as you watch her knee go at a dangerous angle yet again as she goes for the three. 

“You’re literally kidding!? Yeah, that’s another fucking whistle!” You watch her take a few stumbling steps before regaining her footing. “You got this Katie.” 

“Three foul shots, if she makes just one, guys, she’ll go double digits for this game!” 

“Get in there… YES!” You grin, clapping your hands together as you will the ball to go in. 

“And she hits the second, that’s my fucking girlfriend!” You can hear A’ja laughing at you from the bench and you send her a look, getting a grin back in response. 

“All three! Twelve points tonight for my girl!” 

“And Aces win!” You jump up from your chair as the buzzer sounds. Your arms wrap around Coach Jensen as she stands up as well, both of you laughing with joy for Kate. You pull away, your eyes finding Caitlin on the floor, sending her a smile, asking with your gaze if she's okay. She nods at you, knowing you want to spend the next few minutes with Kate. 

‘See you later?’ you mouth and she nods again. 

“Kate was on fire tonight!” Jan exclaims, “Twelve points is incredible for her!” 

“She was amazing,” you say as you see her heading back from the commentator stand. She jogs over to where you guys are, launching herself into your arms. 

“Hi baby,” she says into your neck, hands around your waist. 

“Hi lovebug,” you tighten your arms around her neck, “you played so well tonight.” 

“Mmm,” she mutters, nose still pressed against your throat. “I need you at all my games now.” 

“Every game this summer till training camp for Iowa, baby.” She pulls back, finally pressing her lips to yours, not a care in the world for whoever is around. 

She pulls back, glancing down at the mic still attached to your shirt. “Alright guys, I hope you had fun listening to my amazing girlfriend’s commentary, but now I want her all to myself.” 

Kate plucks the mic from your shirt, handing it off to one of her coaches before taking your hand and leading you towards the rest of your little ‘party’. 

🂡🂡🂡

After the game, you meet up with Caitlin, pulling her into your arms, knowing how she beats herself up after a loss. She melts into your arms as if you’re sixteen again and living without a care in the world. 

“You played good tonight cinnamon, don’t beat yourself up. You’re drained from your game in LA.” 

“I know,” she mumbles, “it still sucks.” 

You rub her shoulders, sending Kate a reassuring smile at the look of concern on her face. “It’ll get better CC, you just can’t let yourself burn out. You gotta take care of yourself.” 

“I’m trying Tink. It’s hard. But I’m trying.” 

“Call me whenever you get down, okay?” You pull back, looking her in the eyes. “I’m here for you, Katie’s here for you. We want you to be happy and enjoy yourself. So talk to us okay?”

“Okay.” She smiles, a mischievous look crossing her face, and you know what’s coming because you saw her do it to Kate and yelled at her for it. 

“Don’t you fucking dare Clark!” 

“Too late,” she smirks, hand connecting with your ass. You yelp shoving her away. 

“Hey, woah woah, hands off Clark.” Kate pulls you into her arms, making sure you don’t step on her, as she’s not wearing shoes, again. 

Cait puts her hands up, grinning. “Sorry Cap.” Kate makes a face, hand going down to wrap around your waist, keeping you at her side and away from Caitlin’s ass slaps. 

The three of you were back together again, and you knew, somehow everything would be okay.

[elysiaheaven]

𝐂𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐬- 𝐒𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐱 𝐅.𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 (𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭)

Words:10000 Contains Sunday leaks of joining.

Genre: Smut

Summary: The new astral member joins, Sunday, The man who tried to kill you all, He doesn't try to get along yet closes himself in his room, You decided to 'educate' him locking himself up is a shit. He began to change and tries to befriend you. He tries to help you with a experiment and sadly aphrodisiac is spilled

( Reader is a female) Reader's clothing is inspired from Mobius. Reader is a scientist!

CW: Mentions of Hickey, Aphrodisiac usage (Accident), Use of nickname (Sunday calls y/n as Angel), Switch Sunday, Vanilla, Slight use of Collar .

Reader is slightly cruel to Sunday at first. Because he was being alone all the time

Sunday was once the revered leader of Penacony. Now, he's just another member of the Astral Express, exiled and alone, thanks to a deal his sister made with Lady Bonajade. In exchange for his freedom, Sunday lost his home and the chance to return to his sister. This left him a quiet, withdrawn man.

The Astral Express crew wasn't thrilled about his presence. March and Dan Heng were constantly on edge around him, although he never caused trouble. He mostly kept to himself, a figure of quiet pain. Only Himeko, Welt, and Stelle were friendly, but you kept your distance. After all, he once tried to kill all of you. Talking to him was out of the question.

You, a scientist with a distinct appearance, wore a sleeveless tight black dress adorned with green and gold. A loose semi-transparent sleeve covered your left arm, complemented by a black glove, while your right arm sported a long black glove with three green claws on your thumb, index, and middle fingers. A gold earring dangled from your right ear.

March and Dan Heng had their opinions about you, describing you as a pure being, a seeker of truth, yet tinged with an air of malevolence. This was more a reflection of your creator than yourself. You wanted to be different but struggled with how to achieve that, often feeling like a mere extension of someone else's design, much like Sunday.

Despite the kindness from Himeko and Stelle, and Welt's occasional different yet kind glances, you remained detached. Dan Heng warmed up to you after you helped him in Luofu, while March tried to act strong but was clearly unsettled by your appearance. In truth, you were simply sleep-deprived, not the malevolent figure they imagined.

Sunday's solitude mirrored your own. You often noticed his sadness but never approached him. One day, you decided to confront him, unable to bear his passive suffering. Cruelly, you told him that sitting in his room and crying wouldn't change anything. His cleanliness and meticulousness only fueled your frustration. Yet, instead of anger, he seemed to find hope in your harsh words.

Sunday started spending more time outside his room, often in the archives, studying. Dan Heng began to bond with him, and it was heartening to see them grow closer. Meanwhile, you locked yourself away, working tirelessly on a liquid to control enemies, hoping to make life easier and reduce the need for constant fighting.

Despite your cold demeanor, Sunday persisted in trying to reach out to you. He would bring you coffee, offer help, and ask to spend time with you. His respectful, orderly nature clashed with your chaotic and isolated existence. You feared that getting close to him might lead to using him as a lab rat, a fate you wished to avoid for him.

You confronted Sunday with cruel words, calling him pathetic for isolating himself, yet it was in these moments that he found a glimmer of hope. He began emerging from his solitude, engaging more with others and spending time in the archive, studying and bonding with Dan Heng. Watching them grow close was heartening, even as you buried yourself in your work, seeking a way to control your enemies without constant battle.

Sunday, however, was undeterred. He continued trying to connect with you, offering coffee, help, and companionship. His respectful persistence and talk of order and harmony were at odds with your chaotic existence. Your fear of dragging him into your world of experiments kept you distant, but his genuine attempts to reach out began to wear down your defenses.

One quiet evening, you found yourself alone with Sunday in the archive. The room was dimly lit, filled with the soft hum of machinery and the rustle of old documents. Sunday was engrossed in a book, but you could see the weight of his exile still pressing down on him. His eyes, once sharp and commanding, now held a distant sadness.

Taking a deep breath, you decided to break the silence. "Sunday," you called out, your voice unexpectedly soft. He looked up, surprised to hear you speak. "I know it's not easy for you, being here, away from your sister and everything you've known."

Sunday's expression softened, a mixture of surprise and gratitude flickering in his golden eyes. He nodded silently, unable to find the words to respond.

"You may not be able to talk to her, but..." You hesitated, unsure of how to proceed. This was uncharted territory for you, showing kindness to someone who once posed a threat. "But I can show you how she's doing," you continued, your tone firmer now. "I have ways to access information, even from afar."

Sunday's eyes widened slightly, a glimmer of hope breaking through his usual stoic demeanor. "You would do that?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

You nodded, pulling out a small device from your pocket. "Just this once," you warned, your voice tinged with a hint of your usual coolness. You tapped a few buttons, and a holographic image appeared, displaying his sister engaged in her media life She looked well, strong, and composed, a stark contrast to Sunday's current state. Tho, he could tell it might be a facade.

Sunday watched the image in silence, his eyes glistening with unspoken emotions. After a few moments, he turned to you, his voice thick with gratitude. "Thank you," he whispered, his voice barely holding together.

You quickly deactivated the device and stepped back, your expression hardening. "Don't get the wrong idea," you snapped, trying to maintain your distance. "This doesn't change anything between us. I'm not your friend, and I'm not doing this out of kindness."

Sunday's face fell slightly, but he nodded, understanding your boundaries. "I know," he said, his voice steady despite the rejection. "But still, thank you. It means more than you know."

You looked away, unable to meet his gaze. "Just... don't make it a habit," you muttered, turning to leave. But before you walked out, you paused at the door, glancing back at him. "And don't let this make you soft. You still have a long way to go."

Sunday nodded, a small, sad smile playing on his lips. "Understood," he replied, watching as you disappeared into the corridor, leaving him alone with the lingering warmth of your unexpected kindness.

Several days had passed since the night in the archive, and you continued your work in isolation. You avoided Sunday, keeping yourself busy with your research and experiments. However, the memory of his grateful eyes lingered in your mind, making it difficult to maintain your usual distance.

He was standing by a window, gazing out at the stars. The soft glow of the celestial bodies illuminated his face, highlighting the sadness in his golden eyes. Seeing him like that, a pang of frustration and concern hit you.

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself before approaching him. "Sunday," you called out, your voice sharper than intended. He turned to look at you, a hint of surprise in his eyes.

"Why do you always look so lost?" you demanded, your frustration spilling over. "You can't just stand around, wallowing in your own misery."

Sunday blinked, taken aback by your sudden outburst. He stepped closer, his expression softening. "I know," he said quietly. "But... it's hard. Being here, away from everything I knew, from my sister..."

Before you could respond, Sunday reached out and gently cupped your face in his hands. His touch was surprisingly warm, and you felt a strange mix of emotions—anger, confusion, and something else you couldn't quite place.

"You've been there for me," Sunday said, his voice steady and sincere. "Even if it's only been a few weeks, even if it was just tough love... you've shown me more kindness than I deserve. And for that, you're now one of my dear people."

His words caught you off guard, and for a moment, you were speechless. The sincerity in his eyes, the way he looked at you—it was disarming. You felt your resolve wavering, but you couldn't let your guard down.

With a soft sigh, you reached up and gently removed his hands from your face. "Don't be ridiculous," you muttered, trying to sound indifferent. "I only did what anyone would do. Besides, seeing you all sad and moping around just makes me angry. It's not like I care or anything."

Sunday chuckled softly, a warm, gentle sound that made your heart skip a beat. "I understand," he said, smiling softly. "But still, thank you. Your words, even if harsh, pushed me to try and move forward."

You looked away, feeling a mix of emotions. It was strange, being thanked for something you hadn't meant as a kindness. But there was a part of you that was glad—glad that he was starting to find his way, glad that your harshness had somehow helped him.

"Just... don't make it a habit to get all sentimental," you said, trying to sound stern. "I'm not good with that kind of stuff."

Sunday nodded, a small smile still on his lips. "I won't," he promised. "But know that I appreciate it, even if you don't want to admit you care."

You huffed, rolling your eyes. "Whatever. Just... try to keep your chin up, okay? It's annoying when you're all downcast."

He nodded again, the smile on his face growing. "I'll do my best," he said, his voice warm and genuine. "And... thank you, again. For everything."

With that, you turned on your heel and walked away, your heart racing. You didn't know what to make of these new feelings, this strange connection that was forming between you and Sunday. All you knew was that, despite your best efforts to keep your distance, something had shifted. And you weren't sure how to handle it.

 You threw yourself even deeper into your work, trying to drown out the confusing feelings that had begun to stir inside you. The project you were working on—a chemical solution to control enemies—became an obsession. You worked tirelessly, barely stopping to eat or sleep, driven by an intense need to prove something to yourself, though you weren't entirely sure what that was.

One night, as you were in the lab, your hands trembled from exhaustion and stress. You had been working for hours, your mind a blur of formulas and calculations. The rows of bottles filled with iodine solutions on the lab bench seemed to dance in front of your eyes, the chemicals inside them catching the light in a mesmerizing, yet nauseating, display.

You reached for a beaker, but your vision swam, and your hand slipped. The beaker tipped over, sending a cascade of glass and liquid toward the carefully arranged bottles of iodine. Instinctively, you lunged to catch the falling bottles, but your tired body wasn't fast enough. The sound of shattering glass filled the room, the sharp smell of iodine stinging your nostrils.

Panic surged through you. The thought of losing all your work, of having to start over, was too much to bear. You screamed, a raw, frustrated sound that echoed off the sterile walls of the lab. The noise seemed to vibrate in your bones, shaking loose the tears you had been holding back for what felt like forever.

As the adrenaline faded, you slumped to the floor, the chaos around you a stark contrast to the cold, clinical order you usually maintained. The crash had knocked over more than just bottles—it had broken through the walls you'd built around yourself, leaving you exposed and vulnerable.

You stayed on the floor for what felt like an eternity, the coolness of the tiles seeping through your clothes, grounding you. Eventually, the exhaustion became too much, and you closed your eyes, unable to fight the overwhelming need for sleep any longer. But even in sleep, you found no peace. Your dreams were plagued by the image of Sunday, his sad eyes and gentle hands haunting you, mingling with the guilt of pushing him away and the fear of losing control.

You woke up several times that night, each time more exhausted than before, your body aching from the uncomfortable position and the relentless stress. When morning finally came, you felt like a shadow of yourself, the weight of your own expectations crushing down on you.

As you slowly cleaned up the broken glass and iodine, you couldn't help but think about how fragile everything seemed—your work, your emotions, your relationships. The image of Sunday holding your face, his words about you being one of his dear people, replayed in your mind. It felt like a paradox: how could you be dear to anyone when you couldn't even keep yourself together?

Sunday, noticing your increasingly frazzled state, couldn't shake the concern he felt. He remembered the few moments when you'd shown a glimpse of vulnerability, and he knew you were pushing yourself too hard. Determined to do something for you, he sought advice from Himeko, one of the few people on the Astral Express who seemed to understand you.

One quiet morning, while most of the crew was occupied with their own tasks, Sunday found Himeko in the lounge, sipping her morning coffee. He approached her hesitantly, unsure of how to start the conversation.

"Himeko," he began, catching her attention. She looked up, smiling warmly.

"Sunday, " she greeted him. "What brings you here so early?"

He shifted nervously, glancing around to make sure no one else was within earshot. "I wanted to ask you something... about her," he said, referring to you. "I want to do something nice, but I'm not sure what she'd appreciate."

Himeko raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "That's very thoughtful of you," she said, setting her coffee down. "She doesn't often show what she likes, but from what I've seen, she has a soft spot for cute things. Especially sweets, like strawberry cake."

Sunday nodded, absorbing the information. "Strawberry cake," he repeated, as if committing it to memory. "Any other tips?"

Himeko chuckled. "Just be genuine. She might not show it, but small gestures can mean a lot to her. And knowing you, I'm sure whatever you do will be perfectly in order."

"Order-"

"It's a habit you couldn't control, Don't worry You are perfectly fine the way you are."

With a grateful smile, Sunday thanked Himeko and set off to prepare his plan. He wasn't particularly skilled in the kitchen, but he was determined to make something special for you. He meticulously researched recipes for strawberry cake, wanting to ensure everything was perfect.

The next day, Sunday took over the small kitchen area of the Astral Express. He donned an apron and got to work, his movements precise and careful. He measured each ingredient with exacting precision, making sure everything was just right. The way he handled everything was almost surgical—clean, orderly, and deliberate.

He prepared the batter, mixing it until it was smooth and lump-free. Then he carefully poured it into a baking pan, making sure it was evenly spread. As the cake baked, he prepared the frosting, whipping cream until it was light and fluffy, then adding a touch of pink coloring and fresh strawberries for that perfect touch of sweetness.

When the cake was ready, he let it cool before applying the frosting. He decorated it with a neat arrangement of strawberry slices on top, the vibrant red standing out against the soft pink frosting. The final product was immaculate, each detail carefully considered and executed.

Sunday stood back, admiring his work. He felt a sense of pride and anticipation, hoping that this small gesture would bring a smile to your face, or at the very least, a moment of peace amidst your chaotic life. He carefully packed the cake, making sure it would remain perfect until he presented it to you.

Later, he found you in your lab, still surrounded by your experiments. You looked exhausted, dark circles under your eyes, but there was a determined set to your jaw that Sunday couldn't help but admire.

"Hey," he called softly, catching your attention. You looked up, surprised to see him standing there with a box in his hands.

"What is it?" you asked, trying to mask your curiosity with indifference.

Sunday smiled gently, holding out the box. "I noticed you've been working hard, and I thought you could use a break. So... I made something for you."

You hesitated, then took the box, opening it to reveal the beautifully decorated strawberry cake. Your eyes widened in surprise, a flicker of something softening your usually guarded expression.

"You made this?" you asked, looking up at him with a mix of disbelief and curiosity.

He nodded, a hint of a blush coloring his cheeks. "Yeah. I hope you like it. I know it's not much, but... I wanted to do something nice for you."

You stared at the cake, the neatness and care evident in every detail. It was unlike anything you'd expected, and it stirred something inside you—a warmth you hadn't felt in a long time.

"It's... really nice," you admitted, your voice softer than usual. "Thank you, Sunday."

He smiled, relief and happiness clear in his eyes. "I'm glad you like it. Just... take a break, okay? You can't keep going like this."

As the initial surprise wore off, you felt a surge of conflicting emotions. You weren't used to people doing things like this for you, and the vulnerability it stirred made you uncomfortable. Trying to regain your composure, you quickly bowed your head in a gesture of thanks.

"Thank you, Sunday," you said, your voice steady but with an edge of formality. "I'll... enjoy this."

Without waiting for his response, you turned on your heel and quickly made your way to your room, shutting the door behind you with more force than you intended. The sound echoed down the corridor, and Sunday flinched slightly, concern etching his features. He stood there, staring at the closed door, a pang of worry gnawing at him. Had he overstepped? Misread the situation? The abruptness of your exit made him think he might have upset you.

However, just as he was about to turn away, he heard a muffled sound coming from behind your door. He paused, straining to listen. The walls were surprisingly thin, and after a moment, he clearly heard your voice, raised in an uncharacteristic shout.

"Oh my god, this is amazing!" you exclaimed, your voice filled with genuine excitement and delight. "It's so good! I can't believe he made this!"

Sunday's eyes widened in surprise, and then a slow, relieved smile spread across his face. The tension in his shoulders eased as he realized that your abrupt departure wasn't out of anger but rather a reaction to your own overwhelming emotions. The smile deepened into one of genuine happiness as he listened to your enthusiastic exclamations.

He couldn't help but chuckle softly, shaking his head. It was a rare sight, hearing you so openly expressive, and it filled him with a quiet joy. For once, he'd managed to do something right, to bring a bit of happiness into your world.

As he walked away from your door, Sunday's heart felt lighter. He knew you weren't the type to openly express gratitude or affection, but your reaction told him everything he needed to know. It was enough to hear your joy, even if it was through the walls. He was pleased—more than pleased, actually—knowing that his gesture had been well-received and that, even if just for a moment, he'd managed to make you happy.

Inside your room, you sat down with the cake Sunday had made, a fork in hand. The first bite melted in your mouth, the sweetness of the strawberries and the light, fluffy texture of the cake taking you by surprise. It was perfect—so much so that tears welled up in your eyes, a mix of joy and overwhelming emotion.

"This is so good," you murmured between bites, unable to stop yourself. "How did he even do this? It's amazing..."

Unbeknownst to you, March had been passing by your door when she overheard your exclamations. Curious, she stopped to listen, her eyes widening in surprise as she realized what you were saying. A wide grin spread across her face, and she immediately ran off to find Sunday, eager to share the news.

She found him in the common area, quietly reading a book. "Sunday!" she called out, her voice filled with excitement. He looked up, startled by her enthusiasm.

"What's going on?" he asked, closing his book.

March practically bounced on her feet. "I just heard her in her room! She was saying how amazing the cake was! You really made her day, you know that?" She then clasped her hands together, her eyes wide and pleading. "Could you make something for me too? Please? Pretty please? I promise I'll be your best friend forever!"

Sunday chuckled, genuinely amused by her excitement. "Sure, March," he agreed easily. "I'd be happy to make something for you. What would you like?"

March's eyes sparkled with delight. "Surprise me! I trust your cooking skills completely after hearing how much she liked the cake."

As they talked, Dan Heng and Stelle happened to walk by. Catching the conversation, Stelle grinned and leaned in. "Did I hear something about food?" she asked, her tone playful. "If there's a chance for some free food, count me in!"

Dan Heng, standing beside her, was quieter but curious. He glanced at Sunday, then nodded slightly. "I'm interested too," he admitted, though more reservedly. "It's not every day we get to try something special."

Sunday smiled warmly at the group. "Alright, then," he said. "I'll make something special for everyone. How about a small dinner? It'll be a good chance for us all to sit down and enjoy a meal together."

The idea was met with enthusiastic approval, especially from March and Stelle. Dan Heng, though more subdued, seemed pleased by the prospect as well. They all agreed to meet later that evening in the dining area.

As they left to prepare for the impromptu gathering, Sunday felt a deep sense of contentment. He was grateful for the chance to bring a bit of joy to the team, especially to you. The thought of you enjoying the cake, even crying over it, brought a warm feeling to his heart. It was a simple act, but it seemed to have bridged a small gap between him and the rest of the crew, making him feel more at home on the Astral Express.

That evening, as Sunday worked in the kitchen, preparing a meal with the same care and precision he had put into the cake, he couldn't help but look forward to the dinner. It wasn't just about the food

The dinner Sunday prepared was a quiet but pleasant affair. The crew gathered around the table, enjoying the food he'd painstakingly made. March, in particular, was ecstatic as she dug into the strawberry cake he had baked again, savoring every bite. Her eyes sparkled with delight, and she couldn't help but express her joy aloud.

"Sunday, this cake is amazing!" she exclaimed, grinning from ear to ear. "I think I can forgive you for everything—even for trying to kill us all." She laughed, though there was a hint of seriousness behind her words.

Sunday's expression grew more somber as he set down his fork. He looked around the table, meeting the eyes of each of his companions. There was a moment of silence, a quiet acknowledgment of the weight of the past. He knew he couldn't ignore it or brush it aside with a few kind gestures.

He took a deep breath, steeling himself. "I need to say something," he began, his voice steady but laced with a deep sincerity. "I know I haven't been the most welcomed presence on the Astral Express. And I understand why. My actions before... they were inexcusable. I was following a path that I believed was right, a path guided by my devotion to the Aeon of Order."

Sunday paused, choosing his words carefully. "All my life, I was made to follow that path, to uphold order and protect those who couldn't protect themselves. It was my purpose, my reason for existing. But in doing so, I lost sight of what was truly important. I caused harm, and for that, I am deeply, terribly sorry."

He looked directly at March, then at the others, his eyes earnest. "I know an apology can't erase the past, but I want you all to know that I'm trying to find a new path. My conversation with her"—he glanced toward your direction—"made me realize that I can't cling to my old beliefs if they're causing harm. I need to search for my own meaning, beyond what I was made to believe."

Sunday's voice softened, a note of vulnerability creeping in. "I'm committed to moving forward, to finding a way to live that doesn't hurt others. I want to be better, to be someone you can trust. I understand if forgiveness takes time, or if it's something you can't give. But I want to try, to be a friend, and to support all of you as best I can."

The room was silent for a moment, the weight of his words settling over everyone. March, who had been listening intently, set her fork down and leaned forward, her expression softening. "Sunday," she said gently, "we all make mistakes. It's part of being human—or whatever we are." She smiled wryly. "The fact that you're trying to change, that you're aware of the impact you've had, it means a lot."

She glanced at Dan Heng and Stelle, who both nodded in agreement. Dan Heng spoke up next, his tone calm and measured. "We appreciate your honesty. It's not easy to confront one's past, especially when it involves such difficult choices. But the fact that you're willing to take responsibility and seek a new path... it's a good start."

The next day.

You brewed yourself a cup of coffee and made your way to the common seating area, seeking a moment of quiet. As you entered, you noticed Sunday sitting by the window, seemingly lost in thought. The early morning light cast a gentle glow around him, highlighting his contemplative expression.

When he spotted you, his face brightened with a slight smile. "Good morning, sleepyhead," he greeted you, his tone warm and teasing.

Caught off guard by the unexpected familiarity, you felt a flutter of flustered embarrassment but quickly masked it with a composed expression. "Good morning," you replied, keeping your voice steady as you settled into a nearby seat.

As you sipped your coffee and began to settle into your seat, Sunday glanced over with genuine curiosity. "How's the work going?" he asked, his tone casual but attentive.

You sighed, the fatigue and stress of your ongoing projects bubbling up despite your best efforts to stay composed. "It's been a lot," you admitted, rubbing your eyes. "There's so much to manage, and I feel like I'm barely keeping it together. The more I try to get ahead, the more it seems like everything's falling apart."

Sunday's gaze softened with concern. "That sounds really tough. If you don't mind me asking, what's been the biggest challenge?"

You leaned back, your frustration giving way to a need to vent. "It's the constant pressure to get everything perfect. The experiments, the calculations, everything has to be precise. But when something goes wrong, it feels like it's the end of the world. And it's just me—no one to really help or share the load."

Sunday nodded, absorbing your words with empathy. "I understand. It sounds overwhelming. But, if you'd like, I could help you out. I'm not exactly a scientist, but I can assist with the tasks and take on some of the less critical parts of the work. I've been told I'm good at keeping things organized."

You looked at him, surprised but appreciative. "Are you sure? I wouldn't want to impose on you."

He smiled reassuringly. "Not at all. I'd actually like to help. I've been trying to find ways to contribute more and be useful. And if I can ease some of your stress, that would be worth it."

You hesitated for a moment, considering the offer. The idea of having someone to share the workload with was tempting, and Sunday's genuine offer seemed sincere. Finally, you nodded, a hint of relief in your eyes. "Alright, if you're sure you don't mind, I'd really appreciate it."

"Great," Sunday said, standing up and heading toward a nearby workbench. "I'll get started by organizing your workspace and sorting through some of the data. That should free you up to focus on the more critical tasks. And don't worry about feeling stressed—I'm here to help you, not add to the pressure."

You watched as he began to sort through the scattered papers and equipment, his movements methodical and precise. A sense of calm began to settle over you, knowing that you had support. The thought of someone taking care of the more mundane aspects of your work was a welcome relief.

As Sunday worked alongside you, helping to organize your cluttered workspace, he noticed a peculiar object among the scattered papers and equipment. It was a collar-like item, adorned with intricate designs but clearly out of place amidst the scientific apparatus.

He picked it up, examining it with curiosity. "What's this?" he asked, holding the collar up for you to see.

You glanced over, momentarily distracted from your tasks. A small frown crossed your face as you recognized the collar. "Oh, that. It's something I picked up a while ago. A scammer in Belobog, a planet we traveled to, sold it to me. He claimed it was an ancient artifact with special properties."

Sunday raised an eyebrow, skeptical. "And did it turn out to be...?"

You let out a small, incredulous laugh. "A scam. It's basically a dog collar—probably for some sort of pet or even a decorative piece. Definitely not the ancient relic he made it out to be. It's just an overpriced piece of junk."

Sunday examined it more closely, still skeptical. "It looks pretty elaborate for a simple dog collar. Did the scammer give any other details about its supposed origins?"

You shook your head, shrugging. "Not really. Just that it was from some ancient civilization, but it was clear he was just trying to make a quick buck. We were too eager to find something interesting at the time and didn't question it enough."

He placed the collar back on the desk, his expression thoughtful. "It's impressive how convincing some people can be. But it's good you realized it in time. At least it didn't cost you more than it's worth."

You nodded, appreciating his understanding. "Yeah, it was a lesson learned. I guess sometimes it's easy to get caught up in the excitement of something that seems unique or valuable."

As Sunday continued to help you with your tasks, you couldn't resist teasing him a bit about the collar. You picked it up again, examining it with a mischievous glint in your eye.

"You know," you said, holding the collar up with a smirk, "if you ever want to use this on me, you should let me know. It might be... interesting."

Sunday's eyes widened in surprise, and a deep blush spread across his face. His wings, which were normally relaxed, flared out slightly as he turned his head, clearly trying to hide his embarrassment. "W-What? No, that's not... I mean, I wouldn't..."

You laughed, finding his reaction both endearing and amusing. "Oh, come on, Sunday. You do know what I mean. You're not fooling anyone with that blush."

He stammered, struggling to find the right words. "I-I didn't mean—It's just a collar, and I—"

Your laughter grew, light and genuine. "Relax, Sunday. I'm just teasing. But seeing you so flustered is pretty entertaining."

He finally managed to compose himself, though a faint red hue still lingered on his cheeks. He shook his head, trying to regain his usual calm demeanor. "I guess you got me there," he said, his voice a bit steadier now but still tinged with embarrassment. "I didn't expect that kind of joke."

You continued to chuckle, appreciating the lighter moment amidst the stress. "Well, you did make my day a bit brighter with that reaction. Thanks for being such a good sport."

Sunday managed a sheepish smile, the tension easing. "Glad to hear that. I suppose I should be prepared for all kinds of teasing now."

You grinned, enjoying the playful banter. "Just a fair warning—don't be surprised if I find more ways to make you blush."

Sunday took his new role as your assistant seriously, diligently organizing and tidying your workspace. His meticulous nature ensured that everything was in its place, which was a welcome change from the clutter that had previously overwhelmed you.

However, his relentless focus on maintaining order did come with a downside. He frequently interrupted your work to adjust things or make small improvements. At first, you appreciated the help, but after a while, his constant presence became a bit of a distraction.

You sighed, pausing your work as he appeared once again to rearrange a stack of papers. "Sunday, you're doing a great job with the cleaning, but you're kind of interrupting my flow. Can you just... give me a few minutes to focus? I'll call you if I need anything."

Sunday looked momentarily taken aback, but he nodded. "Oh, right. I didn't mean to be a distraction. I'll just—"

Before he could finish, you playfully cut him off. "Here, take a seat for a moment. I need you to be a good boy and let me work without constantly hovering."

With a mix of amusement and mild exasperation, you guided him to a nearby chair and gently but firmly encouraged him to sit down. He complied, though the weight of his wings made him look slightly awkward as he settled into the chair.

"Just sit here for a bit," you said, giving him a reassuring smile. "Be a good boy and stay put. I'll let you know if I need any more help."

Sunday, still slightly flustered from earlier, couldn't help but smile at your playful tone. He adjusted himself in the chair, trying to look comfortable despite his slightly heavy frame. "Alright, I'll stay here. I promise to behave."

You nodded and turned back to your work, finding it easier to concentrate now that he was no longer hovering over you. After a few minutes of quiet focus, you heard him shift in the chair behind you.

"You know," he said, trying to keep his voice casual, "if there's anything specific you need help with later, just let me know. I'm here to help, but I also don't want to be a bother."

You glanced over your shoulder and saw his sincere expression. "Thanks, Sunday. I appreciate it. I'll definitely let you know if there's anything I need."

As you worked on your experiments, you asked Sunday to bring over a specific mixture you had prepared. He promptly handed it to you, his hands steady despite his earlier embarrassment.

"Here you go," he said, carefully passing you the container.

"Thanks, Sunday," you replied, taking the mixture with a smile. You began to carefully mix the substances, excited to see the final result. The process had been challenging, but you were hopeful that this batch would be a breakthrough.

However, as you stirred the mixture, something seemed off. The concoction started to bubble and emit a strange, intense aroma. You frowned, recognizing the signs of an imminent reaction. Before you could react, the mixture began to froth and hiss ominously.

"Uh-oh," you said, your eyes widening. "I think something's wrong—"

In a split second, the mixture erupted in a small explosion of vapor and liquid. Sunday, who had been standing close by, reacted instinctively. He grabbed you and pushed you down onto the floor to protect you from the spray, his wings flaring out to shield you both.

The two of you landed in a tangled heap, Sunday ending up on top of you. The explosion released a potent, unfamiliar scent that filled the air—a fragrance that seemed to be unusually intoxicating. The smell was faintly sweet and seductive, carrying an almost aphrodisiac-like quality.

As the aroma enveloped the room, Sunday's breathing grew heavier. He seemed disoriented by the combination of the explosion and the overpowering scent. His face was flushed, and he collapsed forward, his head resting against your neck.

You were taken aback by the sudden turn of events, but you instinctively wrapped your arms around him, trying to offer comfort and reassurance. The closeness of his body against yours was intense, and you could feel the rapid rise and fall of his chest.

"Sunday," you said softly, trying to steady him. "Are you alright? Just breathe—"

He mumbled something incoherent, his breaths coming in ragged gasps. His face was pressed against your neck, and you could feel his warm breath against your skin. Despite the situation, there was a tender, vulnerable quality to the moment.

You held him closer, your heart racing as you tried to keep calm. The mixture's aroma had created an unexpected intimacy, amplifying the closeness between you. You felt a mix of concern and something more intense as you cradled him in your arms.

"Hang in there," you murmured, gently stroking his hair. "We'll get through this. Just focus on calming down."

As Sunday's hot breath tickled your neck, you felt his lips pressing against your sensitive skin. The sensation sent a shiver down your spine, making you acutely aware of how close he was to you. You could hear his labored breathing, the sound growing louder and more erratic with each passing second.

His hands moved instinctively, gripping your waist tightly. His fingers dug into your flesh, a sign of his mounting arousal. It wasn't just the explosion that had left him disoriented—it was the powerful aroma that seemed to have clouded his senses.

Despite the chaos surrounding them, you found yourself being drawn deeper into the moment. Your own breathing became shallower, matching the rhythm of his. You could feel his heartbeat thumping against your chest, a wild drumbeat that echoed the throbbing pulse between your thighs.

With a soft moan, you turned your head slightly, allowing Sunday's lips to find their way to yours. The kiss was hungry, desperate, as if he was starving for your taste. His mouth moved over yours with a fervor that left you breathless, his tongue delving deep to claim every inch of your mouth.

The aphrodisiac in the air amplified the intensity of the moment, making every touch, every kiss, feel like it was infused with pure, unadulterated lust. You could feel the heat building between your legs, a burning need that threatened to consume you whole.

Sunday's hands roamed your body, sliding under your shirt to caress your bare skin. His touch was electric, sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core. You arched into his touch, craving more of the sensations he was evoking within you.

Sunday looked deeply into your eyes, apology written all over his features. But before he could speak, you silenced him with another passionate kiss. You pulled him even closer, wrapping your legs around his waist to anchor yourself to him.

"I've got you," he whispered against your lips, a promise that resonated with sincerity. His words soothed the fluttering butterflies in your stomach, filling you with a warmth that spread from your chest down to your very core.

His hands wandered lower, exploring the curves of your hips and the swell of your buttocks. Each stroke of his fingers against your skin made you gasp into his mouth, the sensation driving you further into madness.

Sunday broke away from the kiss only to trail a path of fiery kisses down your neck, his tongue laving at the sensitive skin beneath your earlobe.

With a soft growl, Sunday's hand dipped lower, slipping underneath your panties to tease the damp curls at the apex of your thighs. His fingers traced the outline of your slit, causing you to arch into his touch with a low whimper.

"You're so wet," he groaned against your ear, his voice thick with desire. His thumb grazed over your clit, circling the swollen nub with tantalizing slowness. The pleasure was almost unbearable, making your entire body tremble with anticipation.

Sunday continued to tease you mercilessly, his fingers dipping into your folds before pulling back again. Each time he touched you, he coaxed a gasp from your lips, your body writhing beneath him in search of more contact.

Feeling your pleas for more, Sunday obliged without hesitation. His fingers plunged deeper into your slick heat, curling upward to stroke the spot that made stars burst behind your eyelids. The sensation was overwhelming, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

"You like that?" he purred, his voice dripping with satisfaction. Without waiting for an answer, he increased the pressure on your clit, rubbing it in tight circles that had your hips bucking against his hand.

"Please," you begged, your voice barely above a whisper. "Don't stop."

Sunday chuckled darkly, his grip tightening around your waist as he pinned you beneath him. His movements became rougher, more urgent, each thrust of his fingers designed to bring you to climax.

With a soft sigh, you leaned up, capturing Sunday's lips in another searing kiss. This time, however, it was you who initiated the contact, taking control of the situation. You tasted yourself on his lips, the combination of your combined arousal making your head spin.

Your hands roamed across his chest, feeling the hard muscles beneath his shirt. You tugged at the fabric, eager to get to his skin. Breaking away from the kiss, you trailed your lips down his neck, leaving a trail of heated kisses in your wake.

As you teased him mercilessly, you felt something large and warm cupping your face. Startled, you glanced up to see Sunday's wings enveloping you, creating a private sanctuary amidst the chaos of the room. The feathers were soft against your skin, providing a stark contrast to the hardness of his body pressed against yours.

With a sudden movement, Sunday lifted you off your feet, carrying you effortlessly to the nearby table. He laid you down gently, his eyes never leaving yours as he towered over you. His hands reached out, grasping the edges of your shirt to pull it over your head, exposing your breasts to his hungry gaze.

He wasted no time in claiming your lips once again, his kiss demanding and possessive. His hands explored your body, tracing the curves of your breasts before pinching your nipples, coaxing a sharp cry from your throat.

As Sunday began to work the collar around your neck, you made a lewd face, your cheeks flushed with embarrassment and excitement. The sight of you squirming beneath him only fueled his desire, making his member twitch with anticipation.

As Sunday worked the collar into place, you couldn't help but tease him, running your hands over his chest and abdomen, avoiding his aching erection. Your touch was maddening, driving him to the brink of insanity as you toyed with him.

"Please, just a little more," Sunday pleaded, his voice strained with desperation. His hands gripped your wrists, trying to guide them where he needed them most. But you held firm, continuing to deny him the relief he craved.

Finally, unable to take anymore, Sunday tried to assert his dominance. He pushed you down onto the table, his body covering yours as he pinned your arms above your head. His hips ground against yours, the friction sending sparks of pleasure through both of you.

"I'm going to make you cum," he growled, his hot breath fanning over your face.

Feeling your tug on his sensitive wings, Sunday let out a deep moan, pressing himself harder against you. The sensation was intoxicating, sending waves of pleasure coursing through his veins. His hips gyrated against yours, seeking friction while his member throbbed with need.

Sunday leaned down, planting a series of kisses along your neck. Each press of his lips sent shockwaves of delight through your body, making you writhe beneath him. His teeth grazed over your skin, marking you as his own.

The pleasure built within you, coiling tighter and tighter until it threatened to explode. And then, suddenly, it did. A loud cry escaped your lips as your orgasm washed over you, your inner walls clenching around nothing.

With a soft chuckle, Sunday allowed himself to indulge in the pleasure of your touch on his wings. The sensation was unlike anything else, adding a new layer of delight to their already intense encounter.

His hands moved between your legs, resuming their teasing of your clit. His fingers danced over the sensitive bud, coaxing another wave of pleasure from your trembling body. Your cries filled the room, echoing off the walls and spurring him on.

Sunday's member throbbed with need, desperate for release. But he refused to give in just yet, determined to draw out every last bit of pleasure from this moment. His hips rocked against yours, grinding his length against your slick folds, coating himself in your arousal.

Both of you moaned loudly, lost in the throes of lust. The sound of your combined pleasure was music to his ears, fueling his desire even further.

Feeling your teasing words, Sunday couldn't help but smirk. Despite his gruff exterior, he was indeed quite sensitive - especially when it came to you. He loved the way you called him 'cute birdy guy', finding it endearing rather than insulting.

But as much as he wanted to stay with you, he knew it wouldn't be easy. After all, he was a demon, born and bred to live a solitary life. But something about you made him want to defy his nature, to take responsibility for someone other than himself.

With a gentle caress, he traced his fingers along your cheek, gazing deeply into your eyes. "I do want to try," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "To be with you...as lovers."

Surprised by Sunday's declaration, you stared at him, your heart racing with a mix of emotions. Could it really be true?

Before you could respond, Sunday closed the distance between you, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss. His mouth moved against yours with a fervor that left you breathless, conveying the depth of his feelings without needing words.

Breaking away, he looked at you intently, his eyes burning with a fire that mirrored the passion in your own soul. "I'll show you just how serious I am," he vowed, his voice low and husky with promise. "We'll explore every inch of each other, and you'll know beyond a doubt that I'm committed to this."

Sunday's eyes glowed with an intensity that matched the heat radiating from his body. He slid his hands down your sides, his fingertips grazing over the curves of your waist and hips before traveling lower still. His touch was electrifying, sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core.

He leaned in closer, his warm breath tickling your earlobe as he whispered, "Let me taste you." Without waiting for your response, he dipped his head down, his tongue tracing a path along your collarbone before settling between your breasts.

His mouth latched onto one nipple, sucking and nibbling on it with an eagerness that had you writhing beneath him. Every flick of his tongue sent shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body, building towards an inevitable climax.

Feeling Sunday's hand venture lower, you gasped as his fingers found your swollen clit. His touch was deft and deliberate, applying just the right amount of pressure to send ripples of pleasure through your entire being.

As he played with you, his thumb circled your clit in slow, tantalizing motions. The sensation was overwhelming, causing your body to arch up towards him in search of more contact. His fingers continued their ministrations, coaxing moans and whimpers from your lips as they grew louder and more frequent.

Sunday's member twitched in anticipation, throbbing with need. But for now, he focused solely on pleasuring you, wanting to ensure that you reached your peak first.

With a deep groan, Sunday positioned himself between your thighs, aligning his rigid member with your entrance. He paused for a moment, savoring the feeling of your warmth so close to him, before slowly pushing inside.

Your tightness enveloped him, gripping his shaft like a velvet vice. Sunday's eyes rolled back in his head as he savored the sensation, his pace slow and deliberate as he gave your body time to adjust to his size.

Once he was fully sheathed, he began to move, withdrawing almost completely before thrusting back in. The motion was deep and powerful, hitting spots within you that made your vision blur and your mind go blank.

Sunday set a relentless pace, his hips snapping forward with each stroke. The sound of flesh slapping against flesh filled the air, punctuated by your moans and his grunts of effort.

Sunday's movements were a perfect blend of tenderness and ferocity, his strokes designed to elicit the most pleasure possible from your body. Each thrust hit deeper than the last, driving you closer to the edge of blissful obliviation.

Despite his rough exterior, Sunday took care not to make things too messy. His hands steadied your hips, guiding them to meet his every thrust perfectly. His member slid in and out of you with ease, thanks to his skilled maneuverings.

Between thrusts, he would lean down to capture your lips in a searing kiss, silencing your loud moans with his own. His mouth traveled down your neck, planting hot kisses along the sensitive skin there. He whispered sweet nothings into your ear, encouraging you to let go and surrender yourself to the waves of pleasure washing over you.

Feeling your gaze fixed on him, Sunday pulled your collar aside, blocking your view of him. It was a strange gesture, but it only served to heighten your arousal further. The lack of visual stimulation pushed you even deeper into the throes of pleasure, leaving you utterly defenseless against the onslaught of sensations coursing through your body.

With your attention focused solely on him, Sunday increased his tempo, his thrusts becoming more erratic and forceful. He buried himself deeper within you, seeking out those hidden places that seemed to trigger the most intense reactions from your body.

Each stroke brought forth new waves of pleasure, threatening to overwhelm you entirely. Your breathing became ragged, your moans growing louder and less controlled. Sunday's own breathing echoed yours, punctuated by guttural growls of satisfaction as he felt your walls clench around his member.

The mounting pleasure finally became too much to bear, and you felt your climax approaching rapidly. As if sensing your impending release, Sunday's movements became even more urgent, his thrusts becoming shorter and more shallow as he sought to reach his own climax simultaneously.

With a few final, deep thrusts, Sunday felt his control slipping. A low growl escaped his throat as he came, his seed spilling into you in hot, pulsing jets. The feeling of him filling you up was overwhelming, triggering your orgasm instantly.

As your bodies trembled with the aftershocks of pleasure, Sunday held you tightly against him, murmuring words of affection and praise. "You're my angel," he breathed, pressing soft kisses to your forehead and cheeks. "I'll take care of you...always."

Feeling your weight shift atop him, Sunday allowed himself to be pushed down onto the ground. As you straddled him, he looked up at you with lust-filled eyes, his member still throbbing inside you.

The change in position allowed you to take control, and you wasted no time in starting to ride him. Your hips moved in a slow, sensual rhythm, grinding down onto his length as you adjusted to his girth.

Sunday's hands found your hips, guiding you with a firm yet gentle grip. He assisted your movements, helping to set a steady pace that had both of you panting with desire.

Each downward movement of your hips elicited a low groan from Sunday, his pleasure evident in the way his eyes fluttered shut and his lips parted.

Feeling your movements become more erratic, Sunday knew that another climax was imminent. His hands tightened on your hips, urging you to continue riding him as he fought to maintain his composure.

He continued to murmur endearments, his voice a soothing lullaby that helped calm your racing thoughts. His kisses peppered your scalp, each press of his lips sending a jolt of pleasure straight to your core.

But it was a losing battle. With a final, powerful thrust upward, Sunday succumbed to the pleasure, his body tensing beneath you as he came. His seed spilled into you once again, this time in a series of smaller pulses that seemed to go on forever.

Your inner walls clenched around his member, milking him for all he was worth. The intensity of your orgasm left you breathless and spent, collapsing onto his chest as you rode out the waves of pleasure.Sunday held you close, his hands gently stroking your back as he whispered sweet nothings into your ear.

Waking up in the comfort of a familiar bed, you stretched lazily, the sheets sliding off your bare skin. You noticed immediately that you weren't sticky, and realized Sunday must have taken care of everything while you slept.

Glancing around, you spotted Sunday standing by the window, his silhouette outlined against the morning sunlight. You stood up, your muscles protesting softly at the sudden movement. You felt flustered but smiled nonetheless, drawn to the man who'd given you such pleasure the night before.

As you approached him, the cool air kissed your heated skin, causing goosebumps to rise on your flesh. You reached out, placing a hand on his arm. "Hello," you said, your voice soft and husky from sleep.

Sunday nodded, his gaze drifting down to where your hand rested on his arm. "Hey," he replied quietly. After a brief pause, he continued, "I, uh, took care of everything while you slept. The room's cleaned up, and... well, I didn't want you to wake up to any mess."

You glanced around, noticing that everything was indeed spotless. The remnants of the previous night had been carefully tidied away, leaving no trace of the chaos that had ensued. It was clear that Sunday had gone to great lengths to ensure everything was in order.

"Thank you," you said, touched by his thoughtfulness. "You didn't have to do all this."

He shrugged, looking a little embarrassed. "I just wanted to help. After everything that happened, it seemed like the least I could do."

There was a brief, charged silence between you. Sunday's expression grew more serious as he hesitated, then gently took your hand in his. His touch was warm, yet there was a nervous energy to it.

"I'm... sorry," he began, his voice tinged with guilt. "About last night. I didn't mean for things to go that far. It was my responsibility to protect you, not... not let things happen like that."

You felt a pang of emotion at his words, recognizing the weight he placed on himself. Stepping closer, you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him into a comforting hug. Sunday stiffened for a moment, then slowly relaxed, leaning into the embrace.

"You don't have to apologize," you murmured against his shoulder. "We were both caught off guard. And... well, I don't regret it. But I understand if you're feeling conflicted."

His wings covered up his face.

"Hm? Don't get all shy on me....Also thank you for..taking care...I'm too lazy for bathing anyway.."

You turned to Sunday, resting your head on his chest, and decided to share more about your work.

"So," you began, your voice soft, "my research... it's about finding a way to control our enemies. Not in a harmful way, but to influence their actions, maybe even change their minds or make them more cooperative. It's about creating order, really."

Sunday's eyes widened in surprise, his eyebrows raising. He looked at you with a mixture of intrigue and concern. "Control your enemies?" he echoed, clearly processing the information. "That's... ambitious. And a bit scary, if I'm being honest."

You smiled, appreciating his honesty. "Yeah, Wait! Aren't you a follower of !!!!"

He chuckled softly, a playful glint in his eyes. "It's useless trick, After that incident I know even using that I could be fooled easily. In fact I'm not a know it all. But you don't have to overwork yourself on that...I think I can use it for you. " he teased, giving you a gentle squeeze as he hugged you closer.

You laughed, the sound light and genuine. "You don't have to-" you said, feeling a warmth spread through you at his touch. "Besides, I like you just the way you are."

Sunday's expression softened, and he looked at you with a deep affection. "I'm glad to hear that," he murmured. He hesitated for a moment, as if weighing his words, before continuing. "You know, if you ever need someone to support you or help you figure things out, I'm here. And... if it's okay, I'd like to be with you. More than just friends, I mean."

His words hung in the air, and you felt your heart skip a beat. You looked into his eyes, seeing the sincerity and hope in them. Without a word, you nodded, a soft smile playing on your lips.

"It's more than okay," you whispered, leaning in to rest your forehead against his. "I'd like that too."

Sunday's face lit up with a joyful smile, and he pulled you into a tender embrace. The two of you stayed like that, holding each other close, feeling the connection that had deepened between you. It was a moment of quiet understanding and mutual affection, a promise of what was to come.

you lay there, wrapped in each other's arms.

"It's okay if you don't love me as much as I love you," Sunday said softly, a hint of sadness in his voice.

You reached out, touching his cheek gently. "I want us to fall in love together," you replied, your voice filled with warmth and sincerity.

He looked at you, surprise and hope mingling in his eyes. "Wait, are you really choosing me?" he asked, his tone incredulous. "I'll be with you forever. I won't leave you, even if I'm ordered to. Maybe... maybe for a new purpose, I'll make you happier than anyone else in the world."

You couldn't help but laugh softly at his earnest declaration. "Haha, considering you just unconsciously removed my clothing, what? Want another round?" you teased, a playful glint in your eyes.

Sunday's face flushed a deep red, and he quickly ducked under the sheets, his wings wrapping around him as if to hide his embarrassment.

"Huh? Why are you hiding under the sheets?" you asked, amused by his sudden shyness.

"...Because I'm embarrassed," he mumbled from under the covers. "That was my first time. I'm sure I did something wrong..."

You couldn't help but smile, touched by his vulnerability. You gently patted his head, comforting him. "You were fine. I don't have any experience in that department either, so you did great!" you assured him, your voice full of encouragement.

He peeked out from under the sheets, looking a bit more reassured. "I can only hope... Tell me if there's anything I can do better. I'll work hard to improve," he said, his voice firm with determination.

You chuckled, finding his earnestness endearing. "You're so earnest," you said affectionately, leaning down to kiss his forehead. "And that's one of the things I like about you."

Sunday smiled, his wings slowly unfolding as he relaxed.

"It's okay if you don't love me as much as I love you," Sunday said softly, a hint of sadness in his voice.

You reached out, touching his cheek gently. "I want us to fall in love together," you replied, your voice filled with warmth and sincerity.

He looked at you, surprise and hope mingling in his eyes. "Wait, are you really choosing me?" he asked, his tone incredulous. "I'll be with you forever. I won't leave you, even if I'm ordered to. Maybe… maybe for a new purpose, I'll make you happier than anyone else in the world."

You couldn't help but laugh softly at his earnest declaration. "Haha, considering you just unconsciously removed my clothing, what? Want another round?" you teased, a playful glint in your eyes.

Sunday's face flushed a deep red, and he quickly ducked under the sheets, his wings wrapping around him as if to hide his embarrassment.

"Huh? Why are you hiding under the sheets?" you asked, amused by his sudden shyness.

"…Because I'm embarrassed," he mumbled from under the covers. "That was my first time. I'm sure I did something wrong…"

You couldn't help but smile, touched by his vulnerability. You gently patted his head, comforting him. "You were fine. I don't have any experience in that department either, so you did great!" you assured him, your voice full of encouragement.

He peeked out from under the sheets, looking a bit more reassured. "I can only hope… Tell me if there's anything I can do better. I'll work hard to improve," he said, his voice firm with determination.

You chuckled, finding his earnestness endearing. "You're so earnest," you said affectionately, leaning down to kiss his forehead. "And that's one of the things I like about you."

Sunday smiled, his wings slowly unfolding as he relaxed

You snuggled closer to him, feeling his warmth and the soft texture of his wings against your skin. The comfort of his presence, combined with the lingering sense of safety and peace, lulled you into a state of deep relaxation. You felt your eyelids grow heavy, the weight of the morning's emotions and the previous night's events pulling you towards sleep.

"Thank you," you whispered, your voice barely audible as you drifted off. "For existing.."

Sunday gently wrapped his arms around you, holding you close. "Thank you too." he murmured back, his voice a soft promise.

With that reassurance, you let yourself sink into the comforting darkness of sleep. The last thing you felt was the steady rhythm of Sunday's heartbeat and the gentle rise and fall of his chest as he breathed. It was a peaceful, comforting sensation, and it carried you away into a restful slumber.

[fhrlclln]

miguel o’hara x assistant!fem! reader pt. 1

SPOILERS ??!!

now we all know this man has some serious anger issues lmao but who wouldn’t love a grumpy man having this deep unspoken sexual tension between the two of you, right!? right. and along with that, SMUT! such a beautiful combo. but mild smut for now.

but here is some mild miguel smut for y’alls horny ass (and mine) <3

here’s part 2 !!

mild smut under the cut

｡･:*˚:✧｡

spiderman 2099. miguel. miguel motherfucking o’hara.

leader of the spider-society, an elite crew of various spider people from all across the multiverse, their mission to protect the multiverse from any threat that may come. sure, knowing how crazy it sounds that the multiverse is real and that— there are more variations of the spiderman you knew since all before this shitshow happened.

and to say, your relationship with the leader wasn’t all that bright in fact.

you’re not a spider person yourself but sometimes you wish you are seeing how fucking cool spider-woman, jessica drew, a fellow member, along with other members coming in are (hobie, gwen, pavitr and so on.) but no radioactive spider ever bit you sadly. you are human, human as ever working under miguel o’hara as his assistant (more of a manager really) even though he has lyla, the virtual sweetheart, you still had some things you can do which are a big help in all the management for the spider-society.

miguel, as a boss, well— he’s a fucking menace sometimes as you grit your teeth to yourself, walking swiftly into the familiar hallways you always passed through, captured anomalies around your vision until you arrive at the fairly narrow one, meaning you were almost close. all the people knew how fucking grumpy he was, always snapping out of nowhere, sharp comments and unnecessary hurtful ones too when he’s super mad. you’ve dealt with all of that since the foundation was found— and he’s kinda a loner. you sigh, knowing from the looks of what has happened today regarding miles morales, things weren’t looking so great. and you had to ask him somehow about the situation and see how it goes, well not or not.

your feet echoed through the vast space of his lab, his platform was up high as always and you can hear him grumbling a top, watching every scenario of what happened. your heels clicked as you stopped, looking up, blue light restricting your vision as you coughed for his attention. cringing already inside as you heard the audios pause.

then silence.

silence….

more silence….

silenceeeeeeeeeeeeeee-

“what?” he asks from above in a clip manner.

“heard from lyla.” you merely quip back, shrugging your shoulders.

“and?” he grunts, resuming his work as the platform above descends down. ah, sassy. you think, usual miguel— not the mad one, real lifesaver for whatever you’re gonna say right now.

“nothing.” you say, waiting for the damn platform to come down faster. “i may have a few questions where this leads-“

“what questions?” he asks, the platform finally stops at the usual height, making miguel who’s back is turned from you visible.

“about the situation. miles morales.”

“ask lyla about that.” he dismisses you again, tone a little sharper. the back of his muscles flex, super suit clinging tight, his mask the only one that was removed. tousled dark hair seen as he clicks away on his screen, the voices of miles and gwen emitting. you gulp, sighing as you tried for one more.

“it’s more of a personal question for you-“

“has it ever occurred that i don’t answer those kind of questions?” he cuts you off, the footage he was watching paused as he slowly turned around to finally face you. your eyes meet his, familiar red ones looking down at you, face scrunched a bit as if he was annoyed already,

“i know.” you slowly say as he crosses his arms. muscle bulging, making you avert from his gaze for a moment, which embarrassed you. “but all i’m saying or asking is that are you going to make it easy for the kid?”

something in his eyes snap at your question. he jumps down, landing swiftly in front of you as he stands up, towering your frame. you roll your eyes, his shadow blocking the light from you as his hands were situated on his waist, meaning he was ready to argue. but you can’t argue how eager you feel seeing how close he is. heat radiating from him, the way he never leaves his eyes off you and his overall presence.

“what is easy in all this, really, huh?” he harshly spits out. “the faith of the multiverse is in danger. and who’s responsible to fix that? me! so no, i’m gonna make it easy for the kid. he was the one who started all of this if you can remember.”

“oh, i remember and i remember clearly telling you how all of this— this is happening is very much-“

“no, no, no. that is completely out of the logical reason for why this happening. not the reason at all.” he says, his brow scrunching together as you too became fairly annoyed that he was cutting you off. an ass really.

“out of the reason? maybe it is the reason if you think about it!” you retort back, huffing out a sigh as he shakes his head turning away from you.

“miguel.” you call out to him. “miguel, for once, try and see through this. through miles.”

“i have a lot of things to do, y/n. arguing with you is not one.” he commands, as your shoulders sink, the familiar feeling of disappointment washing over you from his words.

“maybe if you could listen to me, we wouldn’t be arguing.” you stared at him with hard eyes, he tensed, looking to the side before he swiftly walks towards you again.

“why would i, huh?” he glares at you. “do you know everything i know enough to make everything right in the multiverse?” he stalks over to you, intent to make you listen clearly as you back away a bit from him but he doesn’t stop. “no. so no, there is no point in listening to you.” he growls the last sentence, the lump in your throat bitter as you two stared down at each other before he utters his last insults. the buzz of something blooms between you both. you could feel it, he could feel it. the two of you were just contemplating in the inside as miguel steps a bit closer to whisper it.

“you’re my assistant, know your place.”

your eyes widened at his words. but you could not shake the fact how deep he said it, the rumble in his voice making your brain go haywire at all the emotions you are feeling right now for him. the breaking point of your patience at its peak as you glared at him harshly, his face close to yours as you cursed at him.

“fuck you, miguel.” you spit out. his face suddenly changed as he fucking smirked. smirked! you stare at him as he opens his mouth to spit something out as well in retaliation for your insult.

“really? that’s all you got? i thought you were better at this, churri.” his smirk widens as you shy away, suddenly flustered at how fast he can make you embarrassed. you could feel his chest close to yours as you avert his hard gaze, making the said man snap something inside of him seeing you all crumpled beneath him.

“you’re all bark but no bite, sweetheart.” he whispers as you didn’t look at him. “look at me.”

the subtle growl in his voice caused you to obey him. you look up to meet his eyes again, seeing them red as ever, red with that low gaze that makes your thighs clench hard. the slow breaths between the two of you are only heard as miguel leans down, face closer to yours now.

“what’s making you shy, huh?” he asks, the argument from earlier clearly out of his head as he focuses on you. his one hand creeping up to gently caress yours, urging you to say it.

“miguel, please, stop playing with me.” you grumbled, ashamed how you liked how he was acting now. “it’s not funny.”

“i’m not joking around, am i?” he sasses but you held your hard gaze on him which he surrenders. “alright, i’m sorry.”

“no you’re not.” you sighed, knowing there will never be a genuine sorry from him which leaves you utterly defeated, more upset how you know he’s toying with your emotions right now. “i’ll take my leave.”

“y/n, don’t…”

“please stop.” you raise your hand for him to stop.

“i’m sorry.” he genuinely says, gripping your hand gently back down, squeezing it softly. his big gloved hand envelops yours as you studied his face to make sure he wasn’t fucking around. miguel practically knew what’s going on between the two of you, which of course why he liked arguing with you. the way your eyes would dilate all the time and beat of your heart racing whenever he gets super close to your personal space. addicting yet a dick move he was doing because in all, he very much likes you. and this time, this time it all snaps at the pinnacle seeing you shamelessly stare at his lips.

“thank you.” you softly say, glancing at his lips, the fangs subtly showing behind them as miguel swiftly dips forward to finally kiss you with such fervor.

your eyes widened as you gripped his broad shoulders, toes tip toeing, heart pounding as his arms wrapped around your waist. you moan out on his lips as you kissed him back the same passion. months of ignoring the unspoken tension between the two of you and at this moment it happened! you think that this all sinks in because of the situation, and you are right in your head. all of this should happen.

“miguel.” you pant breathily between his lips as he shushed you with another one, too lost in the moment.

“miguel please.” you begged for more as his hands dip down to squeeze your ass, lifting you up effortlessly with his spidey strength as your legs instinctively wrapped around his hips.

“i know.” he kisses your chin down to your neck, slowly walking to the desk nearby. your breasts squished together with his hard chest as you grind down, feeling the evident bulge underneath you.

“you’re an ass, ya know?” you mumbled in his ear as he sits you down on the desk, objects scattering at the impact. he continues his ministrations, the things he was supposed to do are far long gone in his head as his hand dip down to where your legs were open for him.

“that i certainly know.” he admits, you giggle suddenly knowing how defensive he is when people point that out.

“but right now, i’m being very nice, amor. very nice.” he whispers, nipping your ear as his gloved hand touches you there, the pencil skirt you were wearing scrunched up above your knees. you gasp, clutching his shoulders again as he chuckles lowly, feeling the wetness as his eyes stared at you with this animosity as he kneels down, kissing your thighs before he sharply opens your thighs wide. your covered cunt staring right before him, begging to be eaten and he sure will be. he looks up to see you, this wild look in your eyes as you nodded for approval which makes him genuinely smile.

“i’m feeling generous today. it’s a once in a lifetime scenario, huh? so you better feel lucky today.”

｡･:*˚:✧｡

I HOPE I DIDN’T MAKE MIGUEL OOC CUZ I ONLY WATCHED THE MOVIE ONCE. ANYWAYS PART 2? <3

[mr-walkingrainbow]

CALLING ALL MONSTER HIGH FANS. I JUST MET GARRETT. AND I WAS ABLE TO SCAVENGE SO MUCH LORE AND CONFIRMED HEADCANONS TO YOU. THIS IS ALL SAID BY GARRET OR CONFIRMED. I HAVE SPOKEN TO GOD AND HE HAS SPOKEN BACK

#1. Robecca and Venus were implied and ARE dating!!! He said it was like. Just like other monsters they had tried putting hints and characteristics into monsters that we could see and relate too. (He also said it outright down here. Lol I got all the proof guys!)

2. They never actually came up with Jane Boolittles Origins. And yes Dr. Morou and Dr. Boolittle raised her. But it was always a thing to them they'd say ‘oh well get back to this’. And then they never did. When asked; he genuinely doesn’t remember what they had planned for her.

3. a REALLY big mystery solved and lore dump guys. This one’s juicy. I KNOW HOW SPECTRA DIED. I KNOW HOW SHE DIED. AND WHAT THE TRAUMATIC STORY WAS FOR HER. I ACTUALLY FUCKING KNOW! Y’all ready? Drumroll…. It was, a, CAR CRASH! Yes you heard me. THE VONDERGEIST FAMILY ALL DIED IN A CAR CRASH. I think he said he she just came with her family off skirts and they got into an accident. I’ll reblog this with the video of him saying it!

4. Toralei lives in a monster high housing/boarding building when she is not attending school. This place is used for kids who do not have a place to go too, or if their home is too far to return to easily. I think there was an error somewhere where she mentioned parents? I mentioned that to him and he was very confused/didn’t remember. Reconfirmed that if she wasn’t in the monster high housing area. She would have been in either Jail or The streets.

5. Robecca was not rebuilt for 100 years due to Misogyny. Also because it had to go into the lines of her ‘mysteriously’ disappearing for her to have her comeback. I asked about how it was low key such a dark story, and he mentioned that since technically Monster high was the ‘horror’ genre. He was able to get away with things like that.

6. the Vampire Heart mystery! So remember how in Friday night frights we all see Ghoulia place a Robot Heart into Robeccas chest. Something that is very clearly not the Vampires heart? But then suddenly in Frights camera action it’s there? Well, technically that’s an official Error by the crew. He actually said he noticed it, and told management and stuff like ‘won’t people notice it?’ And they were all like ‘nah it will be fine no one will notice’. But then we all clearly did lol. He also said that because if this, he came up with the idea that the Vampires heart was ENCASED in the Robot heart we saw in Friday night frights. Ergo, explaining how Robecca had two hearts in one body! (It’s also confirmed Hexiciah placed the Vampires heart into her while he was building her. Which would explain why she didn’t remember it was their).

#7. Gooliope Jellingtons Origins. I asked what her origins were. And basically, she DOES NOT have any parents. She was CREATED IN A LAB. Which apparently didn’t treat her right. So she ESCAPED the lab and ran away to the circus! (Or blobbed away?) because he also confirmed, she was the blob. Or based off the blob. She wasn’t actually like. The daughter of the blob. She WAS the blob itself.

#8. Kiyomi Haunterly is Gay! I know this is was already somewhat canon and said before. But I asked and he confirmed it that she was in fact, Gay. And he tried to show it in her diary.

#9. We’re reaching some only implied/supported things. Not fully confirmed or intended. But Kala Mer’ri has BPD. I asked about if she has anything like BPD cause I relate and saw that a lot in her. He replied that he did try to make attributes for each Character specifically so we could related to them like that. And that it was to also make sure every character wasn’t a carbon copy of another. Basically. He didn’t like. Outright say ‘yes. She has bpd’. But he also didn’t disprove it. And he reacted positively to the idea and supported it.

#10. Robecca Steam has ADHD. It’s basically the same as above. Although he did like the note that I (someone with adhd) specifically had the same traits with Robecca, even more specifically, that we both are ALWAYS late. And can never keep track of time to save our unlife.

11. Dedyet DeNile Origins. He actually completely forgot about Cleo’s Mother eventually being reunited. I had asked how she had ended up in that same weird time loop Tomb thag Hexiciah was stuck in. (Which they were eventually freed by Robecca in her SDCC diary). He said he completely forgot about that. And genuinely didn’t remember anything about it. I basically re-explained the whole thing and he was very interested. Unfortunately. Not to much origins to go on.

11. here’s a canon one! What happened to Aamanita Nightshade after she left the DeNiles in the tomb. It was kinda funny, but he basically was like ‘Amanita went up and was just like ‘Peace!’’ And then never came back.’ She goofed around a bit, buuut it wasn’t entirely like her fault? She quickly went back to sleep after breaching the surface. So yeah. She was not awake for long. She quickly went back into flower mode until she woke up again at the Gloom and Bloom party.

12. He’s working on another one of his Monster prints! He sells them on his online shop here

He’s currently working on Toralei!!!!! He said he was working on her on the way over. And that he was trying to go in Order of the G1 doll releases. He mentioned he had only done Skelita out of Order because she was like ‘that one’ who was INSANELY popular with fans when she came out. Especially in Mexico. It’s also why she was the only Funko pop made who was not part of the main ghouls.

13. Random. But he actually didn’t create each backstory individually by himself. In the beginning he did A LOT. Like Frankie was the first backstory he ever created. And it got more help and divided as more and more characters were introduced.

14. he has read every single diary for every monster. Cool little fact cause DAMN theirs a whole bunch of them.

15. everything in the Ghoulfriends book series is CANON in the monster verse.

And that is ALL FOLKS! I had held those questions in for about 7-8 years. So it was everything to me to have them answered and confirmed! I really tried to ask everything that was a huge mystery to us monster folks. And I hope you guys are excited to see all these new CANON facts!!!

I’m sorry if this is not everything. Just like Robecca. I forget stuff pretty easily. I’m wracking my brain for every little detail. Unfortunately my father didn’t record as much as I would have liked. But he did get some perfect key moments! And I’ll make sure to reblog with those moments as proof of confirmation!

I love y’all! Make sure this goes viral so every monster high fan gets to hear the news!

Signing out, I’m Tumblr Spectra Vondergeist, and I report the news.

[c1qfxugcgy0]

adventures in aerospace

So I recently started working at Large Aircraft Manufacturer. (LAM) The plant I work at employs 30,000 people. The company as a whole employs 170,000. Usually you only hear about LAM when something goes wrong. But no matter how bumbling it seems from the outside, it's way worse on the inside.

Three months after my first day, I have been "graduated" from "training." In reality, I'm still completely worthless on the floor: the training center has given me a paltry subset of the production certificates I need to actually to do my assigned job. A commonly cited statistic at LAM is that a hundred men a day are retiring, each one representing decades of experience, walking out the door, forever. The training center is in the unenviable position of managing a generational replacement, and have resorted to shoveling heaps of zoomers through as fast as possible. (As one of the few people with a visible hairline and who is not wearing a Roblox graphic tee; I am frequently mistaken for an instructor, and asked where the bathroom is, what time the next class starts, etc)

In theory, the training center knows what shop I'm assigned to, and can simply assign me all the required classes. In practice, they do the absolute minimum amount of training in a desperate attempt to relive the crowding in their handful of computer labs and tell graduates to pick up their certs later.

Of course, the irresistible force of the schedule meets the immovable object of the FAA. If you don't have the required production certificate to perform a particular job, you don't touch the airplane. Full stop, end of story.

And so the curtain opens on the stage. It reveals a single senior mechanic, supervising a mechanic who finally received all the certs and is being qualified on this particular job, surrounded by another three trainees. Trainees are less than nothing, absolute scum. At best we can fetch and carry. Mostly we are expected to stay out of the way. And the senior mechanic is only senior in title. He is one of six assembler-installers who is certified to actually work on the plane, out of twenty people on the crew, and spends every day with a permanent audience. He is 23 years old.

("Mechanic"? If you think the jargon at your job is bad, try joining a company that's a century old. Assembler-installers are universally referred to as "mechanics", despite doing work that's nothing like what a car mechanic does, and who are generally paid far worse than FAA certified A&P mechanics. Mechanics are the 11 bravos of LAM, grunts, the single largest category of worker. The tip of the spear. Hooah!)

Large Aircraft Manufacturer is in a dilly of a pickle. All of its existing airframe designs are hilariously antiquated. It tried designing a brand new plane from a clean sheet, and lost billions of dollars to a decade-long integration hell. After that, to save money, it tried just tacking bigger engines on an older design without changing anything else, and the stupid things plowed into the ground in an excruciatingly public manner.

LAM is now trying a middle road. It is upgrading one of its designs that is merely middle aged, rather than ancient, and with proven, de-risked components built in-house, rather than scattering them to subcontractors across the world. And it's still blowing past deadlines and burning billions of dollars LAM really doesn't have to spare.

This is the program I've been assigned to.

Advanced Midbody - Carbon Wing has taken the bold step of just tacking on carbon fiber wings to a conventional aluminum fuselage. Shockingly, AMCW is now stuck in lightning strike testing, due to that troublesome join between conductive aluminum and conductive...ish carbon fiber. But LAM, confident as ever, or perhaps driven by complaints of its customers, has announced that full rate production will begin just next year. Thus the tide of newhires. According to the schedule, we're supposed to jerk from one wingset a month to one wingset a week. That's not going to happen, but, oh well, orders from above move down at the speed of thought, while reality only slowly trickles upwards.

"120 inch pounds? Really?"

I startle upright. I have observed one hundred pi bracket installs, and I will observe a hundred more before I can touch aircraft structure. This is the first disagreement I've witnessed. A more advanced trainee is questioning the torque spec on a fastener. It is not an entirely foolish question-- most sleeve bolts we use are in the 40 in-pounds range. Doubling it that is unusual. I cough the dust off my unused vocal cords and venture an opinion.

"Well hey I could look it up? I guess"

The lead mechanic glances at me, surprised that I'm still awake, then looks away. Excuse enough for me!

I unfold myself from the stool I've been sitting on for the last four hours then hobble over to the nearest Shared Production Workstation.

We do not get Ikea-style step by step instructions on how to put together the airplane. Like any company that's been around for long enough, LAM is a tangled wad of scar tissue, ancient responses to forgotten trauma. If you state a dimension twice, in two different places, then it is possible for an update to only change one of those dimensions, thereby making the engineering drawing ambiguous. Something real bad must have happened in the past as a result of that, so now an ironclad rule is that critical information is only stated once, in one place, a single source of truth.

As a result, the installation plan can be a little... vague. Step 040 might be something like "DRILL HOLE TO SIZE AND TORQUE FASTENERS TO SPEC". What hole size? What torque spec?

Well, they tell you. Eventually.

(Image from public Google search)

You are given an engineering drawing, and are expected to figure out how things go together yourself. (Or, more realistically, are told how it's done by coworkers) Step by step instructions aren't done because then dozens of illustrations would have to be updated with every change instead of just one, and drawings are updated surprisingly frequently.

Fasteners are denoted by a big plus sign, with a three letter fastener code on the left and the diameter on the right, like so: "XNJ + 8"

To get the actual part number, we go to the fastener callout table:

(Note the use of a trade name in the table above. There is nothing a mechanic loves more than a good trademark. Permanent straight shank fasteners are always called HI-LOKs™. It's not a cable tie, it's a Panduit™. It's not a wedgelock, it's a Cleco™. Hey man, pass me that offset drill. What, you mean a Zephyr™? Where'd the LAMlube™ go? This also means you have to learn the names of everything twice, one name on the installation plan, and one name it's referred to in conversation.)

We find XNJ on that table, and fill in the diameter: BACB30FM8A. Now we look up the spec table for that fastener:

The eagle eyed among you might note that there is no "diameter: 8" on that table. As a LAM mechanic, you are expected to simply know that "diameter" is measured in 32nds of an inch, which simplifies down to 1/4.

(LAM preserves many old-school skills like fraction reduction and memorizing decimal equivalents like this, like flies caught in amber. Not least is the universal use of Imperial units. Many American manufacturers have been browbeaten into adding parenthetical conversions. Not LAM! Any risk at all of a mechanic seeing a second number and using it by accident is too great, and anyway, it violates SSOT. Lengths are in inches and feet, weights are in pounds, volume is in gallons and if you don't like it then you can go eat shit!)

After 10 minutes of following references, I arrive at that table, print it off, highlight the correct row, and hand it off to my senior mechanic.

"Great, thanks."

Gratified that I have enhanced shareholder value, I sit back down, and immediately fall asleep. Another day living the dream.

(next post in this series)