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grandline-fics · 1 year ago

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Dream A Little Dream

DESCRIPTION: They hear you say their name in your sleep

WARNINGS: just fluff

CHARACTERS: Law, Sabo | Killer, Smoker

WORDS: 1,295

A/N: After the wedding nightmare request I thought I'd do something quick and fluffy. Might do this one again with other characters. Hope you all enjoy

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

MASTERLIST | PROMPT LIST

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LAW

Law knows it’s wrong to have feelings like these. He knows he shouldn’t let himself fall deeper and deeper in his attraction and yearning to be with you. For now he’s managed to restrain himself from confessing or making any sort of move with you. You’re a member of his crew, someone he depends on completely and he’s your Captain. Of course you would look at him the way you do, you’re looking to him as the commander of the ship and your unwavering trust in him is because of his title and talk so easily with him because of a solid foundation of friendship. Nothing more. He can’t allow himself to hope there’s more to it. It can only ever be Captain and subordinate.

Still though when he’s finished his work for the day and does his routine survey of the Polar Tang, ensuring all crew tasks are completed, that everything is maintained and the ship is running smoothly he can’t help but leave your station to last. Just to allow himself an extra moment of time with you, to talk as you both relax from your duties is something he can’t give up. This is fine though, he tells himself, it’s a tiny indulgence that won’t go any further. He finds you as you’re leaving the engine room, having finished extensive maintenance checks and calibrations. You both talk as you walk towards the communal area, Law can’t help but notice your movements and responses are a little slower than usual.

Before he can ask if you’re okay, Penguin’s voice calls for him from the control room. With a small smile you lightly nudge him in the direction of your friend’s voice. “Duty calls, Captain.” You tell him while forcing yourself to hold back the yawn rising in your chest. As much as you’d love to keep talking with him, you know you can’t command all of his attention. “I’ll be in here when you’re done.” Law can only nod once and watch you walk into the communal room while he has to see to Penguin’s problem.

By the time he’s finished and returns to the room he finds you curled up on one of the sofa, arm tucked under your head and sleeping deeply. Now that he has the time, he can see how exhausted you look. Your body needs the rest and as much as he’d like to just let you sleep, he can’t in good conscience let you continue to sleep in the position you’ve found yourself in. You’ll wake stiff and sore and feeling no benefit to the sleep you’re body eagerly sought. His fingers flex and he’s about to conjure a Room to transport you to your bed when he stops.

Taking a breath, Law leans down and easily gathers your sleeping body into his arms. He stills when you shift and he fears for a moment that you’ve woken but instead you seem to nestle into the warmth of his arms and chest, unconsciously your hand curls around his shirt. Law allows himself a small smile and walks carefully to your sleeping quarters.

He lays you gently on your bed and pulls the covers over you as you relax against the mattress and incoherently mumble. Law shakes his head with a small huff of amusement, for a moment he doesn’t believe anything of what you’re saying is an actual language, just noises. That is until he’s almost at the door and you speak again and this time there’s no denying what you say while unconscious. “You’re the best, Law…so happy…with you…”

Law freezes and whips his head around to observe you, watching for any sign that you’re messing with him or pretending to be asleep but no, you’re fast asleep and dreaming about him. As he quickly recovers from his shock and wipes the momentary lovesick expression off of his face Law leaves to let you rest and finally allows himself the time to consider that maybe he should hope there’s more to your relationship with him.

SABO

“Dragon’s just going to tell you to go to your quarters and sleep.” Sabo teased as you staggered mid-step towards the meeting room. You righted yourself and threw your colleague a withering look. While he looked rested and practically glowing with his usual bright smile, you looked awful. You’d both been out on individual missions and Sabo was lucky to get back earlier and got a good night’s sleep whereas you’d completed your mission and the journey back had been a rough one, leaving you no chance to get any sleep. Now you had to attend a full Revolutionary meeting. You told yourself you could sleep after you’d reported to your commander.

“Seriously, you look like you’re about to fall over any second.” Sabo continued, while he was concerned he knew it was pointless to order you to put yourself first. You would just get more stubborn and force yourself to stay away the rest of the day just to prove a point. “If you do fall asleep in the meeting, please don’t do it in Dragon’s lap.” You managed a tired laugh only to stop and let out a long yawn to the point your eyes watered and body swayed slightly. You hadn’t even realised Sabo’s hands were on your shoulders to steady you until after you blinked. “Yeah you’re definitely going straight to bed.”

With your mind and body so exhausted, you didn’t have the normal capabilities and reflexes to react, in a blink Sabo had you effortless thrown over his shoulder and he was already striding down the corridor by the time you caught up with what was happening. “Sabo put me down!”

“This just proves my point you need rest.” Sabo laughed as you feebly hit his back. “Look you’re only letting your reputation suffer. Just sleep and then you can properly kick my ass okay?” You glared tiredly at the ground, ignoring all of the stares you were getting from the other Revolutionaries that were walking to the meeting you were also meant to be attending. Out of pure pettiness you managed to reach up and smack the top hat off of Sabo’s head. However with his own sharp reflexes he caught it with ease.

By the time Sabo reached your quarters he realised you’d stopped trying to break out of his hold and when he adjusted you into his arms to lay you down in your bed he saw that you were fast asleep. He smiled to see you already looked more like yourself now that you’d allowed your body to sleep after having stayed awake this long. “Sleep well, beautiful.”

“Sabo…” your voice broke from your lips in a hazy murmur and Sabo tilted his head at you. He hadn’t expected you so innocently saying his name in your sleep would make his heart skip a beat but it did. His lips quirked into a smile only for it to drop slightly when your face scrunched into one of annoyance. “Sabo’s prettier…”

Sabo blinked and relaxed, for a moment you had him worried that you didn’t feel the same as him. He left you to sleep and grinned happily as he made his way to the meeting he was definitely late for, the sound of your sleepy voice echoing in his head. You did catch him off guard by your silly misconception that he was in any way better looking than you but that was you all over. Of course even in your sleep you would manage to be stubborn and disagree with anything he said. Still now he had a new topic to debate with you over, but that could wait until you were awake and more alert.

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TAG LIST (If I've missed anyone or if you want to be added just let me know) @3v37773, @tsaaps , @i-am-all-love-puns-and-lazy , @sanemisnonexistenteyebrow , @fiery-captain-spider-santa @kabloswrld

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merchantziro · 2 years ago

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DP x DC Writing Prompt: Watchtower Technician/Engineer Danny Fenton and Justice League member Dani Phantom

It's been a few years now since Danny Fenton had become the Ghost King. Since then, he's been working hard to maintain peaceful relations with the Living Realm and had found a system to keep his rouge's gallery from being too destructive while still satisfying their obsessions and such.

After that, he decided to semi-officially retire as a hero since he didn't need to protect Amity from his subjects anymore. Choosing to focus on balancing his human life and career, and his duties as the ruler of entire dimension of spirits.

While Danny knew he could never be an astronaut with his "condition", he was able to find a substitute that also managed to satisfy his protection obsession without needing to become a hero again.

Danny Fenton had chosen become an engineer/technician on the Justice League's Watchtower. Which, after a lengthy background check to make sure he wasn't joining as a cover for anything malicious, was ultimately given the green light since Zeta Tube transport was deemed much safer for his "condition".

Meanwhile, the Justice League had finally found a recruit they were interested in for the past few years now since information about him spread to the hero and supernatural communities. Namely, one 14 year old looking ghost named Danny Phantom. However when they did manage to finally track him down, they instead found what looked to be a now 14 year old ghost looking girl calling herself Dani Phantom who looked to be a match for their information on Phantom.

So cue the League coming to the (completely incorrect) conclusion that this must be the hero they're looking for (though he seemed to have become a she, so congrats to her) and don't say anything.

Basically shenanigans with retired Danny Fenton working on the watchtower in peace while Dani Phantom joins the Justice League after they mistake her for a transgender Danny Phantom.

I'm imagining this going in one of several different routes with some potential overlap.

- Both recognize a ghost is nearby (each other) but the League, upon realizing that Danny Fenton comes from a family of Ghost Hunters that span back to 1600s with Jack Fentonightingale, thus assuming it's best to keep Danny oblivious to Dani's existence but they can't keep each other oblivious forever.

- The Watchtower is under attack by some villains and Danny finds a heavily injured Dani among other heroes. As such Danny becomes angered enough to temporarily bring his old hero persona out of the closet (possibly going as far as showing his Ghost King power depending on the villain). Meanwhile the rest of the Justice League are losing their minds over the revelation of them working with the hero's cousin/daughter/clone instead of the original they thought they were working with this entire time.

- One of the supernaturally powerful JL members (John Constantine, Zatanna, Dr. Fate, Shazam, take your pick) recognize that the new employee radiates the same ghostly power as Dani, only stronger before recognizing him as the Ghost King.

- Dani and Danny meet and have their Spider-Man pointing meme moment before nigh-immediately realizing that the League have mistaken Dani for Danny. Thus they immediately realize after that realization they can use this to completely mess with them since they're still unaware.

Probably more ideas but I'll leave that for you to imagine.

I've seen Danny working on the watchtower, both as Fenton for a casual position and as Phantom as a League member. So why not both at the same time only it's Dani Phantom and not Danny.

#danny phantom #danny fenton #dp x dc #dpxdc #dc comics #dani fenton #dani phantom #ellie phantom #mistaken identity #mistaken for trans #identity shenanigans #justice league

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killervelveteenrabbit · 2 months ago

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Reaction to “The Ruler” (S6, E15)

As I mentioned previously, this is the episode that prompted me to start reacting to the .to drops rather than the Disney broadcasts. This episode indirectly calls out some sins of Disney's own, so I strongly expect “The Ruler” to become a “lost” episode, like “The Gatekeeper” ep of “Marvel’s Moon Girl and Devil Dinosaur”. This would disappoint me because the Nathmarc/Marcaniel dynamic is exactly what I needed to see when I was younger. Seeing a passionate, uplifting, and wholesome relationship between two boys would have helped me understand that love was not out of reach for someone like me… or at least, it would have made me feel like less of a freak.

We see relatively little of the Anciel household, except that it’s as colorful as Marc himself and it’s a supportive environment. Mostly, we see Nathaniel’s home, which quite frankly gives off Gabriel Agreste vibes: a monochrome palette with one parent holed up to themselves, lost in their design work.

As for the boys’ updated looks, Marc’s eighties-inspired eye make-up slays (and as we later discover, it’s waterproof). As for Nathaniel, people have already commented on the color symbolism of the paint-spattered overalls, but I’m more interested in how his hair still looks good even though Alix isn’t there to touch up the red. And here’s something I noticed not just with Nath, but with Ivan in “El Toro de Piedras”: the new animation engine allows for the rendering of realistic freckles.

Mr. Kurtzberg cluelessly suggests having the knights fight for the affections of Deep Darkness, an obvious villain, claiming it’s “what people want to see.” Rather, it’s what he thinks people want to see. Like many corporate executives and self-appointed cultural arbiters, he doesn’t understand the value of stories told from a minority or niche viewpoint because they think most viewers or readers outside that community won't accept the premise. They don’t understand the transcendent power of a strong narrative to break down barriers and resonate with people, as demonstrated by how much Nathmarc's classmates love their comic, even though not all of them are LGBTQ+.

Some critics of this ep have called the subplot of Marinette’s cold distracting, even gross. But it makes a valuable point about brand-new romance. We try to show our partners our best and most attractive selves at all times, but no one can maintain the illusion forever. Eventually, you will see them (or they will see you) doing something inelegantly, unflatteringly human, and if there's anything to your relationship, it will withstand that shock. (Even so, you’d think Marinette would consider sewing herself a cute surgical mask for hygiene’s sake.)

Frankly, the metaphor associated with Nath and Marc’s comic hits harder than Mjolnir; it’s more than a little on the nose. Perhaps it was the best way the writers could articulate the angst caused by Shirel’s opposition to their relationship within the context of what is supposedly a children’s show.

Speaking of angst, the ending of Nathaniel and Marc’s comic foreshadows harrowing developments for Ladybug and Chat Noir. Rain-Piercer and Sun-Heart risk losing their powers if they reveal their identities, just like LB and CN. Will they also end up in a position where they must choose between their powers and their relationship? And if that happens, will someone be there to rewrite the narrative?

Nathaniel’s bedroom features a huge picture window, filling the space with morning light. But it only emphasizes the muted colors within that room, with only a few hints of color. It’s certainly not as cheerful as Marinette’s room, or Adrien’s, or Alya’s. It symbolizes how Nathaniel is trying to find some light of his own despite his parents’ influence.

Continuing the metaphor, plenty of LGBTQ+ people have accidentally outed themselves by leaving incriminating evidence where the wrong person found it.

Shirel shredding Marc’s manuscript is, of course, a karmic callback to Nathaniel tearing up Marc’s journal back in “Reverser”, the episode that introduced the latter. More upsetting is Nath’s attempt to destroy every trace of his comic, even badgering Marinette to hand over the proofs. Here we see one of the tragedies of homophobia: it forces people to self-censor the best parts of themselves, to destroy the things that bring them joy and make them special, to deprive themselves and the world of all they have to share.

Nathaniel and Marc, aside from Adrien, are the only people who ever figure out that Marinette is the “jet plane”. I can’t tell if this is more foreshadowing or just incidental.

When Shirel drags Nathaniel out of school, she makes at least two references to Nathaniel “going straight,” at least according to the subtitles. No comment.

I guess Shirel never heard about the comics collection the Louvre Collection co-published and showcased in 2009.

Not Nathaniel transforming and bursting out of a closet!

Shirel says she’s making Nathaniel give up comics “for his own good”. It's an argument too many parents have used to justify “tough love” approaches to their queer children, up to and including conversion therapy.

At the end of the episode, Cerise mentions Nathaniel by name, suggesting she’s figured out he’s a Miraculous holder. Honestly, it wouldn’t have been that hard. Ladybug yelled out his whole government name when she told him to scram. And then a Miraculer showed up, fighting the villain du jour with art supplies, going after her like he had a personal stake in the fight. Between all that, I fear Caprikid has tipped his hoof.

The scene on Marinette’s roof gives “Adrien: The Fragrance” a brand new meaning.

Shirel’s tearful reaction to her son’s comic suggests she didn’t even read Marc’s manuscript before destroying it, not unlike moral guardians who try to ban books they haven’t even read. The epilogue continues that theme, with Marc's observations about how their comic had “effects in real life” and how they were “attacked for talking about love.”

In that context, the mutual reveal of Nath and Marc’s superhero identities does more than parallel the events in their comic. It symbolizes the power of queer visibility. Marc helps Nath discover his bisexuality; later, Nath gives Marc the courage to reveal himself as Rooster Bold. Coming out does more than assert our autonomy; it supports other people who aren’t out yet, showing them that they are not alone and giving them the confidence to live their own truth, to follow their own path.

#miraculous ladybug #ml season 6 #ml season 6 spoilers #the ruler #ml the ruler #marinette dupain-cheng #adrien agreste #nathaniel kurtzberg #marc anciel #shirel kurtzberg #caprikid #rooster bold #nathmarc #marcaniel #lgbtqia+#homophobia #coming out #rain-piercer and sun-heart

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cxrpsequeen · 28 days ago

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Transstalked & Transstalker tips

Transstalked

¹ Pretend there's always someone watching you, try your best to resemble a fear in your mind and start questioning yourself if you're truly alone, if you do that you'll trick your brain into thinking that there's actually someone with you

² Question everything. And by that i mean, if you hear the slightest noise think to yourself "is that my stalker?" "is someone with me?" if you hear that something broke / crushed gaslight yourself that it was your stalker in your home, being too clumsy. If you walk somewhere, look behind you at least 2 times to check if there's someone behind you, after that start walking faster, and when you do that, start questioning yourself once again "did i see someone? was it a shadow following me"

³ You can also complain to your relatives that you see a figure following you around, but this one is very optional since it may be dangerous to tell them not knowing how they will react. But i told my family and my friends that there's a figure following me around and they believed me and it gave me some much euphoria so maybe give it a shot, if they're gonna take it too far (like calling on police or other things like that) you can always say that it isn't following you around (if someone wants i can give a prompt to this!!)

⁴ You may wanna either lock your doors and windows and be very paranoid about them, or leave them opened up (so it'll be easier for your stalker to get inside your house) the first one gives much euphoria, and i like to lock my windows & cover the curtains

⁵ You can also try to find a transstalker in radqueer community there's lots of them and there's always gonna be someone who would love to be devoted to you!! ;3

Transstalker

¹ Try acting sly, maybe put your hoodie on with your eyes on the ground and walk fast. Don't talk too much with people and be cold to everyone

² Consume the media that your lover consumes, learn about their interests, what they like / dislike, hate / love what they can't stand and what they enjoy, their preferences what's their favorite ice cream everything you can possibly imagine. It shall bring you joy, be obsessed.

³ Control them. Try installing apps that could help you see their location, try hacking into their accounts on every social media possible (you can do it through using linux, cheat engine, maybe Charles?) control every aspect of their life, how they dress for example, maybe their clothing is too revealing? don't let them leave the house, or maybe they're disobeying your commands and they deserve to be punished somehow? Think creatively about this one!

I love you, you're valid remember that

#transid #transobsessed #transstalker #transstalked #radq #radqueer #radqueer interact #lgbtq #tips #ideas #transidsideas #transidtips #transid tips #aesthetic #hearts #viral

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bigwishes · 2 years ago

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Class Selection

Levi was a young software engineer freshly graduated from university and set up in a nice job at one of the best tech companies in Sydney. Whilst Levi loved his job his real passion was in gaming and he'd been waiting 6 months for a new MMO to drop. He'd heard it allowed him to link his character from his PC to the real world and engage in community events from his phone whilst he was out.

Levi sat down at his PC watching the linking app install on his phone, he got a quick notifications about Beta functions but he just brushed it off ignoring the message entirely knowing most games like this release in a public beta version for at least a few months.

He was too excited to start playing ShiftOnline. Levi opened up the launcher on his PC and linked it to his phone. He saw a blank character sheet on his phone along with empty social and quest functions. It looked interesting but he had to make a character before he could explore how the real life raid functions worked.

Levi clicked on create character and was prompted with a handful of selections and character presets.

MAGE: a hot toned black man teleported onto the screen in a flash of lightning. Seemed interesting for maybe his second playthrough but Levi found DPS classes a bit boring.

GUARDIAN: A slim man wielding yellow magic stepped onto the screen but Levi clicked off before the character could even finish his intro animation, healers were boring as fuck, he loved being front and centre in games and skipped past the rest of the options to the tank classes.

Scrolling through the tank classes they all seemed fairly generic and boring. Levi was almost ready to go back to the mage character when he clicked on the final class to take a look.

COLOSSUS: A giant black man leaped down from the top of the screen slamming into the ground giving the illusion of the entire monitor shaking from the impact. The character than stood up expanding his shoulders back, roaring slamming his fists together.

Levi smiled with excitement, this was exactly what he was looking for, not just a tank to take hits during a raid but a Juggernaut who could deal just as much damage as he could take, a real Colossus.

He clicked on the character and went through to customisation. He spent an hour designing his character to be exactly how he wanted, he looked at the first few stages of the levelling plan for the class before pressing create.

LEVEL 1 COMMANDING AURA: release a potent aura and gaining the attention of everything in a radius

LEVEL 2 COLOSSAL DEFENSES: when under threat increase size and strength by almost double LEVEL 3 METEOR SLAM: whilst moving above walking speed gain increasing momentum up to 500%, slamming into a target or object will release the energy in a burst of damage

LEVEL 4 HOME ADVANTAGE: your commanding aura will shift the environment it touches leaving it to effect living things as if you were there.

Levi liked what he was seeing from the first few levels and didn't feel like he had to keep reading all the way to level 50 so he clicked create and began linking his character to his phone. Soon the large man he had just spent an hour creating appeared on the app on his phone.

Is this the character you'd like to engage in real world events? YES/NO

Levi pressed yes and suddenly felt a small zap of electricity from his phone. He reactively dropped his phone and rubbed his hand from where he had just been shocked. Looking at the small mark he watched his hand suddenly double in size. His toned body started expanding. He felt his tight tank top struggling to cope as his body started expanding, he quickly took it off and started recording what was happening to himself in the mirror.

His toned body and muscled started to inflate with size as he slowly transitioned from ripped to jacked. Notifications swamped the top of his screen as people on the Social function of the gaming app posted videos of themselves transforming, for most it were minor physical changes but for those who picked tank classes they were turning into giant beasts.

It was almost like a trend for people to post their before and after transformations on the app, but when Levi checked other social media apps there were no videos infact it there were no posts about the game at all, it was almost like the game got cancelled.

Levi gritted his teeth as his body continued to expand. He stood up investigating his new thick frame.

"god damn what the fuck happened"

Levi checked the app and saw a progress bar labelled "Real World Transfer" was only half way complete. He looked at the size of the character on his phone compared to how he looked now, if he was really going to become that big he had no idea how the hell he was going to fit in clothes anymore, or his car for that matter.

Guess the character starting gear just large baggy pants and no other kind of armour.

He looked to see on the app if anyone else had chosen the same class and if their transformation was complete. He was on the tank player social page and not many people had chosen a tank class and he couldn't see anyone who had picked the Colossus.

A notification appeared at the top of his screen.

LEVEL 1 ABILITIES AVALIBLE - Passive: Commanding Aura

Sweat started to appear across his body and he could smell a potent stench radiating off his body. Levi scratched his armpit and quickly found his hand slick with sweat.

Once again he felt his body expanding and he flexed in the mirror looking as his body slowly transformed to be like his colossal character.

Levi looked and admired the new giant bodybuilder form standing in front of himself. He flexed his huge arms and uploaded his transformation video to the social part of the app. He tried to upload it to his other social media app however the video wouldn't attach and looking closer at his social media apps all the photos of him had been changed to his new massive form.

Soon the novelty wore off as he caught a whiff of the stench radiating off his body, this commanding aura was definitely something he was going to have to figure out before going into work tomorrow but for now he was going to enjoy the activity offered in game, and maybe he'd enjoy himself a little bit later too.

Levi sat down in his gaming chair hearing it strain under his new weight. His expanded lats rubbed against the arm rests barely squeezing through and soon Levi felt his underwear coated in sweat and stick to his huge muscled ass.

-------

Levi squeezed himself out of his small car, feeling the dress shirt he ordered online cling to his huge muscled frame. He didn't know how everyone was going to react to how he had magically changed over the weekend but he still had to make money to pay for his gaming habit.

Levi walked through the lobby and stepped into an elevator. A slight ding range as he pressed to his floor number and the doors reopened to the lobby. A small middle aged man in a business suit stepped in front of the elevator.

"I dont know why they hell you're in the elevator Levi, you know you surpass the weight limit"

Levi rubbed the back of his head, so people recognised him but didn't notice the changes. Like he had always been like this. Levi stepped out embarrassed.

"Guess I'll take the stairs"

"maybe lay off the roids kid" The older man said, shaming Levi for his size.

Levi opened the door to the emergency stair well and began his 30 floor hike. He hasn't even started walking and could already feel the sweat start to stain under his armpits. The 3 cans of deodorant he had coated himself in this morning was already starting to be worthless and Levi hadn't even made it up 3 steps yet.

At floor 5 Levi stopped taking a break to catch his breath. He had read some guide last night about the Colossus class having terrible stamina to balance out Meteor Slam but he didn't think it would impact him much in the real world but he continued his hike.

Arriving at floor 30 he stood in front of the door to his office floor gasping for air. The terrible stamina combined with how much effort it took to move his body was making him start to doubt his class choice. Levi raised one arm to lean on the door way but lifting it an inch too high he hear a ripping noise. Looking down he saw the stitching over his armpit was torn and what looked like steam flowed from his shirt. Levi pushed open the door hoping no one would notice his wardrobe malfunction but as he opened the door he noticed how bad his stench must be. As the door swung open a cloud of steam flowed out into the office and a wet sweaty handprint was left behind from where he pushed it open.

Walking across the office everyone was staring at him, complaining about the stench radiating from his body. Levi sat down in his office chair accidentally breaking one of the arm rests as he did and started to get to work. He heard his phone ping and saw a notification from the game app.

LEVEL 2 ABILITIES AVALIBLE: -passive: Colossal Defences.

It wasn't long before his boss was at his desk.

"Levi this is the 3rd time I'm talking to you about your...work place hygiene"

This was the first Levi had ever heard about it

"eeerrr, sorry sir. I ummm"

"save it Levi, I'm going to have to ask you to go home, you'll have to do remote work from now on, nobody in the office can stand your, hmmm how do I put this delicately, your aura but I need to warn you, if your work output drops we'll have to let you go"

Levi grew nervous, he loved his job and really didn't want to lose it. His heart started beating in his chest. He heard the office chair groan under him. Looking down at his thighs he saw his pants grow tighter and the stitching on his inner thigh started to let go.

"everything okay Levi?"

"eerrrr yep, all good, Ill just head home email me my work bye"

Levi quickly stood up, grabbed his bag and began waddling quickly walking to the door. Hearing his pants and shirt start to tear more with each step. Right as he closed the door to the stair well he felt the back of his shirt completely tear apart. His pants split to shreds as he suddenly doubled in size.

He checked the app to see what was happening and saw his ability Colossal Defence had become active. He tried to take some deep breaths to calm down but realised anyone could walk in at any moment and they might not notice how he changed over the weekend but this was temporary and it'd be difficult to explain how he doubled in size in two seconds. He began his decent down the stairs, slowly waddling as he couldn't see his feet past his huge pecs. Luckily by the time he got to his car he had shrank back down to "normal size" sitting in her car he got a notification from the game app again.

MILESTONE COMPLETE: DUNGEON CRAWLER - Explore real world dungeons

LEVEL 3 - Ability: Meteor Slam

-------

Levi finally arrived him, he didn't bother taking his clothes off normally, he just tore off what wet shreds remained clinging to him and chucked them to the floor hearing a loud wet slop as drenched fabric landed on the ground. He sniffed his pits turning away grossed out at the stench and headed to his bathroom for a shower. Right before opening the door he tripped over his own massive foot. As he fell forward he felt his body accelerate and he suddenly found his massive body crashing straight through his bathroom door. As his huge form collided with the door it was obliterated and smashed into pieces.

"aw fuck...welp guess that's meteor slam...." Levi put his hands on the back of his head and let out a deep sigh. He was done, it was the Colossus class was fun in the game but the real lift effects were too much he was going to change his class. He tried to do it through the app but there was no option, he went to his PC putting off his shower a bit longer to get himself back to some kind of normal. Opening the game he was met with a message.

PC GAME OPTIONS DOWN FOR MAITENCE AND PATCHING PLEASE CHEC BACK IN A FEW HOURS.

Levi rolled his eyes, it was the first thing he'd do tomorrow when the game was back online. For now he was going to bed, today was a bust he'd try for a better day tomorrow.

------

Levi woke up feeling his bed completely drenched in sweat, the smell of body odour lingering in the air. He picked up his massive frame and went straight to his PC to change his character. Openeing the game is was met with a notification.

PATCH NOTES: Dear players we are glad you are all enjoying the adventures of ShiftOnline we have been collecting player data and made some adjustments to class stats and abilities for better balance.

Levi skimmed through the other class changes to his

Colossus Changes: Colossus is the least popular class in the game with under 100 players however that doesn't mean the class isn't strong so we are making some changes to rebalance the skills and redirect some power, this changes will be reflective [to see definition of reflective please see our website]

NERFS Colossus players have gained major increased strength and we want to keep that, so to better keep their balance we are nerfing their intelligence stats by -80

BUFFS Commanding Aura is great and grabbing attention both in and out of the game world but its a bit on the weaker side of other tanks agro abilities so we are doubling its range

Colossal Defences is a good abilities but players dislike its randomness, it will now auto trigger when a player is threated like before but players can also toggle the ability on when they aren't threatened

Levi started to feel strange, like popping candy was going off in his head. He felt a bit dizzy. He clicked the link to the definition of reflective changes.

"reflective changes mean they will happen in game and IRL"

Levi remembered the intelligence nerf and quickly when back to the game to make a new character. He picked a basic mage character and sped through the customisation feeling the sensation in his head get worse. Right as he went to press accept he stopped and sat back in his chair. He lifted on arm flexing looking at his huge bicep.

"huhuhuh, so big, me stay biig forEVER"

Levi clicked deny on the character change settings

He stood up moving his hulking frame to the bathroom to admire his huge form in the mirror. As he stood in front of the mirror he flexed feeling a strange sensation, as he activated his Colossal Defences ability without realising. He watched his body slowly grow and double in size.

"huhuhuh"

Levi laughed with drool falling down the side of his lip and onto his chest. He felt himself get hard and waddled to his bedroom to have some fun with himself but he found his shoulders colliding with the door frame. Levi stopped and frowned. He knew had fit through the door but couldn't work out how. He continued to walk back and fourth his shoulders colliding with the doorframe over and over. Too stupid to realise he'd have to shrink back down to normal size to fit through the door again.

About an hour later Levi realised he could turn sideways and fit through the door. His phone pinged again but he didn't bother to check.

LEVEL 4: -Passive: Home Advantage

As Levi waddled through his house his thick stench wafted along with him clinging to his wall and furniture. He carpets became strained with sweaty footprints. His wall paper started to peel and crumble from the about of sweat in the air. His house slowly shifted around him from the clean kept house of a software engineer to an unkept mess that looked like it was home to a caveman.

Levi sat down on his and reached down to his dick to relieve himself but he couldn't reach. The sound of his muscles and skin groaning and rubbing against each other filled the room as the giant man desperately tried to grab hold of his own manhood. Again not able to figure how he'd have to go back to his 'normal' size so he could reach.

The giant colossus spent hours trying to figure out why he couldn't reach his own dick even though he desperately wanted to. Eventually he simply fell asleep on his sweaty stained, stinking mattress. His loud snooze rumbling through his house.

Levi probably thought picking Colossus as his starting class was a bad idea.

Luckily he couldn't think anymore.

#male transformation #muscle #muscle transformation #male tf #gay transformation #tf story #transformation #reality change #musk

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ninjatrashpanda · 3 months ago

Text

Little Man

Written for @bucktommywinterfest

Prompt: accidental baby acquisition/bucktommy dads

Rated: G

Tags: established relationship, babies, artistic license foster system

Read on AO3 here.

“9-1-1, what’s your emergency?”

“This is firefighter pilot Thomas Kinard, Station 217. We’ve got a Safe Haven Baby.”

👶🏻🍼👶🏻🍼👶🏻

“LAFD, we’re here to help!” Chimney’s voice rang through the bay the moment the 118’s ambulance had killed its engine. Tommy, who had settled down back in the community area with the baby, couldn’t help but roll his eyes with a fond smile as he got up to meet them. Some things truly never changed. “You know, it’s really weird to get sent to a different fire station. Where is everyone?”

“Out on a call,” Tommy answered, waving Chim and Hen over, the small bundle, wrapped in a pale blue, clearly hospital issued blanket, pressed to his chest. “Mass pileup on the interstate, they’ve been gone for the last three hours.”

The paramedics stopped for a second and simply stared at Tommy and the baby cradled in his arms before sharing a quick glance. Tommy held himself back from rolling his eyes at them. He hated when they did their stupid telepathy we-read-each-other’s-minds thing. It somehow always ended with either a truly horrific diagnosis or him as the butt end of whatever joke they were cooking up.

“And you’ve just been here alone with this one this whole time?” Hen asked, dropping her bag onto the dining table as soon as she entered the backroom, immediately digging around in it.

Tommy shrugged, adjusting his hold on Little Man, as he’d started calling him, who grabbed onto his uniform shirt in response. Almost instinctively, Tommy pulled him closer to his chest in the process. “Wasn’t much of a choice. I’m Man Behind today, and around half an hour ago, the baby box started screaming.”

Chimney’s eyebrow met his hairline. He shared another suspicious look with Hen, one that Tommy somehow liked even less than the one before. “So, how is the little stinker?” Chim asked, turning back to him with a grin that was decidedly not real. He knew what Howard Han’s grins looked like, and that was not it. “You two best buds yet, or what?”

“Oh, he wishes!” Tommy scoffed playfully, deciding to ignore the not-at-all-convincing expression, the corners of his mouth ticking upward as he looked down at Little Man, rocking him gently. “He’s actually eternally on my craplist because he peed on me when I changed him and now my shirt smells like piss.” He started tickling Little Man’s belly, drawing out a few small grunts that could almost be mistaken for a laugh if you were feeling generous, his cheeks growing even rosier than his already pink skin. “You’re a little pee machine, huh?”

Hen’s expression softened, though there was something in her eyes that Tommy couldn’t quite place. She hesitated for a moment before finally pulling a stethoscope out of her bag. “Alright, baby boy,” she said, reaching for the baby. “Time to see how you really are.”

Almost instinctively, Tommy took a step back, pulling Little Man closer. “Yeah, I don’t think that’s a good idea. Can you do it while I hold him?”

Hen and Chimney both froze for a split second before exchanging yet another one of their silent conversations. Tommy immediately regretted speaking. He didn’t know why, but there was something about the idea of handing over the baby that made his chest tighten just a little too much. He could feel the tiny fingers gripping his uniform a little harder, as if Little Man could sense his unease.

“Tommy…” Hen’s voice was careful, measured, but her eyes were scanning him just as much as they were assessing the baby. “I need to check him properly. It’s not that I don’t trust you—it’s just that I need full access, and that’s going to be easier if we put him on the table.”

Tommy sighed, glancing down at Little Man’s face. He was wide-eyed, blinking up at him like he was waiting to see what would happen next. His tiny fist still had a death grip on the fabric of Tommy’s shirt.

It was stupid, really. Hen and Chim had to see if Little Man was sick or had any kind of injuries, that was the whole entire point of them even coming here. But the thought of letting go, even just for a moment, made his stomach twist. His grip on Little Man tightened, his fingers refusing to let go.

Chimney cleared his throat. “Hey, man. We’re not taking him away from you. Hen just needs to check him out, make sure he’s alright. You do want him to be alright, don’t you?”

Tommy’s jaw worked for a moment, like he was chewing over a thousand words but unsure which one to spit out. His arms were locked around the baby, protective in a way that made both Hen and Chimney pause. Not because they didn’t understand, but because they did.

Of course he wanted the kid to be okay. That wasn’t even a question.

He looked back down at Little Man—those big, unblinking, deep brown eyes, the way his tiny fingers were still clenched in his shirt like it was the only solid thing in the world. Maybe it was, for now.

Finally, Tommy sighed again. Longer this time. He bent slightly, pressing a soft kiss to the crown of the baby’s head before murmuring, “Alright, alright, I hear you. Just don’t go swapping him out for another one while I’m not looking.”

Hen smiled gently, but didn’t make a joke. Didn’t even try. She just nodded and motioned toward the dining table, which Tommy reluctantly walked to, still holding Little Man like he was made of glass.

The second Tommy set him down on the blanket Hen had spread over the table, the baby whimpered, reaching out with those same grabbing hands. Tommy reflexively touched one, offering a finger to hold onto. Little Man latched on instantly, calming just a little.

Chim stayed nearby, a soft presence just over Hen’s shoulder while she worked. Her hands were confident and careful, checking pulse, respiration, pupils. She rolled back the blanket to inspect the baby’s body, her face still and unreadable the whole time.

Tommy kept his eyes trained on her movements, and something about how tense his posture stayed made Chimney nudge him lightly with an elbow.

“You okay, man?” Chim said, voice low.

“I’m fine,” Tommy said automatically. Then, realizing how robotic it sounded, added, “Just... I dunno. He’s been with me for the last half hour. Feels weird just... standing over here now.”

Hen looked up briefly at that, locking eyes with Chim for another one of their split-second exchanges. This one seemed less diagnostic and more... personal.

Hen finished her exam and gently pulled the blanket back up. “He’s alright,” she said, smoothing it down with a touch that bordered on maternal. “Vitals are solid. A little dehydrated, maybe, but nothing alarming. He was probably born sometime in the last day or two.”

Chim let out a low breath. “No injuries, no bruising?”

Hen shook her head. “Clean. Someone cared enough to drop him off safely. That’s something.”

Tommy was already scooping Little Man back up, the second she gave the okay. The baby curled into his chest again like that’s where he belonged. And maybe, just maybe, he did. For now.

Hen was packing up her bag when she glanced at Tommy again, this time with something quieter in her expression. “You good if we call in social services? That’s protocol with Safe Haven babies—they’ll send someone over to take custody until a foster placement is found.”

Tommy stiffened. His arms unconsciously pulled Little Man in tighter. “Yeah. I mean... yeah, of course.”

But he didn’t look at either of them when he said it.

Chim leaned against the edge of the table, watching him with a level of gentleness Tommy wasn’t sure how to deal with. “You thinking about keeping him?”

Tommy blinked, startled. “What? No. No, I—I wouldn’t even—”

“You wouldn’t be the first firefighter who’s thought about it,” Hen said quietly, zipping her bag closed. “You’re not the first one to get attached, either.”

Tommy opened his mouth, then closed it again. He looked down at Little Man, at those tiny lashes and the soft puff of breath against his chest. The room was warm, still, and for a second it felt like nothing else existed outside this strange, still moment.

“I just don’t like the idea of him going to some stranger,” Tommy said finally, his voice rough. “He was crying when I found him. Screaming. Then the second I picked him up, he stopped. Just... stopped.”

Hen walked over, rested a hand lightly on his arm. “I get it. Karen and I have fostered enough kids over the years for me to know how easy it is to get attached.”

Tommy didn’t answer right away. He just looked down at Little Man again, brushing his thumb along the soft edge of his cheek, watching how the tiny face scrunched up and then relaxed like he was dreaming something peaceful. The thought of handing him off to some well-meaning stranger in a clean button-up shirt who’d read his name off a clipboard made his stomach twist all over again.

Hen didn’t push. Neither did Chim. For all their teasing and telepathy, they both knew when to shut up and let someone sit in it for a while.

After a long beat, Tommy finally said, “What would Evan and I have to do to get started?”

👶🏻🍼👶🏻🍼👶🏻

“You want to adopt a baby?”

“Not adopt!” Tommy said, following Buck out of the kitchen into their living room. “Foster!”

“With Safe Haven babies that’s pretty much the same thing!”

“We said we wanted kids someday, right?”

“Keyphrase ‘someday!’” Buck exclaimed, putting the bowl of popcorn down on the coffee table with a bit more force than was necessary. He flinched, cursing himself out before turning around to face Tommy, who carried their beers. This was not how Buck had imagined their movie night. “Not a month after you move into my house! What makes you think we’re anywhere near that stage?”

“Because life never goes according to plan, Evan,” Tommy replied, voice gentle but firm as he handed Buck his beer. He watched Buck closely, waiting for the tense lines of his shoulders to soften, but Buck remained stiff, uncertainty etched in his eyes. Tommy sighed and set his own beer down untouched. “Listen, I didn’t wake up today expecting this either. But you should have seen him, Evan. Tiny and helpless, screaming his little lungs out until I picked him up. He just…trusted me. Immediately.”

Buck groaned softly, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “Of course he did, Tommy. Everyone trusts you. Kids, adults, dogs. Hell, Chief Simpson trusts you implicitly, and you stole a chopper once!”

Tommy cracked a small smile, stepping closer to his partner. “Look, I get it. It’s sudden, it’s crazy, and honestly, it scares the hell out of me too. But I can’t shake this feeling, Evan. That little boy needs us right now. He deserves someone who wants him, not someone who just checks him off a list on a clipboard.”

Buck’s expression softened at that, but worry still lingered in his eyes. “I understand where you’re coming from, Tommy. I really do. But have considered the logistics of all of this? I mean, we need a crib-”

“Hen says she and Karen still have Denny’s old one.”

“-and—and clothes-”

“Chim said we can have the ones Kevin’s grown out of. He and Maddie have a lot.”

“-and we’re both First Responders,” Buck finished with an exasperated sigh, letting himself fall down on the couch. “We both work 24- and 48-hour shifts, are they even gonna clear us?”

“I’ll quit my job and be a stay-at-home-dad.”

Buck’s eyes widened. He stared up at Tommy like he’d just sprouted a second head, his mouth hanging open. “You what?”

“I’m not saying I want to.” Tommy shrugged, clearly trying to play it cool, though his eyes betrayed how nervous he was. “But I would, if it came down to it. If that’s what it takes.”

Blinking, Buck opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again. “You’re serious.”

“I’ve never been more serious in my entire life, Evan.”

There was a long silence. The only sound in the room was the low hum of the fridge and the muted rustle of the wind outside their windows. Tommy didn’t move. He was waiting for Buck to respond, but Buck wasn’t sure how to.

Because this was huge, right? Tommy was serious serious about this baby, far more than Buck had anticipated. He sank deeper into the couch, the weight of everything settling onto his chest like the baby himself had curled up there. He rubbed at his temple, heart pounding a little faster than he’d like to admit. This wasn’t how tonight was supposed to go. They were supposed to be eating popcorn, watching one of Tommy’s rom-coms, maybe falling asleep halfway through with Tommy’s head on his shoulder. Not talking about cribs and foster care and quitting jobs.

He looked up at Tommy—earnest, steady Tommy, with that frustratingly calm expression that only surfaced when he’d already made up his mind. And Buck knew that face. Had seen it in arguments on the fire line, during wild rescues, hell, even the day Tommy showed up at his door with a duffel bag and that crooked half-smile, asking if he was serious about them trying this “living together” thing so soon after getting back together.

Now, Tommy looked the same. Steady. Sure.

And that terrified the hell out of Buck.

“You know,” he said eventually, looking at Tommy again. “I’m supposed to be the impulsive one in this relationship.”

Tommy chuckled, just once. “Yeah, well. I guess spending enough time around you rubbed off on me.”

Buck gave a tight smile, but there was still a war behind his eyes. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, twirling the cool bottle slowly between his palms. “Tommy… this isn’t like adopting a dog or a cat or something. This is a baby. A real-life, tiny human who will depend on us for everything.”

“I know,” Tommy said quietly. “Believe me, I know.”

Buck let out a breath, loud and shaky. “And what if it doesn’t work out? What if we get attached and then he gets taken away? Or we mess him up somehow?”

Tommy moved to sit beside him on the couch, not too close, not trying to crowd him, but just enough to grab his hand and squeeze it tight. “Then we’ll handle it. Together. We learned how to do that, right?”

Buck glanced at him, feeling the warmth of Tommy’s palm in his. He looked up into his eyes, seeing the familiar crinkles of Tommy’s signature smile around them. Somehow, they, along with the blue shine of his irises, were the most convincing thing in the universe.

“You really think we could do this?”

“I think,” Tommy said, voice soft but sure, squeezing Buck’s hand ever tighter, “we already are.”

For a moment, neither of them spoke. Buck stared down at the floor, processing, while Tommy waited, patient as always. It was one of the things Buck had admired about him from the start—that unwavering calm, even when everything felt like it was crashing down. He hated how much it could piss him off, sometimes. But mostly, he just needed it. Especially now.

“You’re gonna be one of those annoying PTA dads, aren’t you?”

Tommy’s smile widened into a grin, his eyes glinting teasingly. “Absolutely. Color-coordinated binders and all. I learned from the best in that regard.”

Buck couldn’t help the giggle that escaped him. What an ass. “Using my own powers against me? Diabolical!”

Tommy, on the other hand, didn’t say anything anymore. He just kept smiling, and Buck knew exactly why. He’d seen the shift. The crack in his resistance. He didn’t push, just sat there quietly until Buck opened his mouth again.

“Okay,” he said, his shoulders somehow feeling lighter than they had all afternoon. “Okay. I…I want to meet him first before we make a decision, but…okay. Let’s look into it.”

Buck could hardly brace himself before Tommy pulled him into a bone crushing hug.

👶🏻🍼👶🏻🍼👶🏻

“You realize this is highly unconventional, I hope?” Diedra asked with a sigh, leading Tommy and Buck down the hall of the receiving center. “Not to mention illegal. I’m risking my entire career here.”

Tommy didn’t flinch. “We understand that. And we appreciate it!” he nodded, always a step behind her. He was basically vibrating and Buck wondered just what kind of magical powers that baby held to get him like that. “We just want a chance to see if this is something that could work—for all of us.”

Diedra stopped in front of a door and turned to face them, arms crossed, a weariness in her posture that only came from too many years navigating the system. “You’re not licensed. You haven’t even completed the background checks. There are protocols in place for a reason.”

Buck, who had been quiet since they’d stepped into the building, took a step forward. “We’re not trying to cut corners. We’ll do everything by the book. Training, home inspections, fingerprints if you want them. Whatever we need to. I just want a chance to meet him before we make a decision.”

Fixing them with a sceptical look, her arms crossed in front of her chest, Diedra let out a sigh. “Hen and Karen said you’re a couple? Living together?”

“Yes.”

Buck shot Tommy a quick glance. The answer had been short and to the point, and very distinctly failed to mention that them living together was a more recent thing. He wasn’t sure if Tommy actually thought that they could keep that part a secret for long or not, but for now, he decided to play along.

Diedra looked between the two men for a long moment, her gaze lingering on Buck, who looked like he was trying very hard not to bounce out of his skin. Finally, she sighed again, this time heavier. “Five minutes. That’s all I can give you right now. And if anyone asks, I never saw you.”

“Thank you.” Tommy said, grabbing Diedra’s hand and clutching it between his own. “Seriously. I can’t even begin to tell you how much this means to us.”

Diedra gave a tight smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Don’t thank me until I don’t get fired over this.” Then, turning sharply on her heel, she swiped her badge over the reader and pushed open the heavy door.

The nursery was quiet. Dim lighting cast soft golden halos across pale green walls, and a mobile of stars and moons turned lazily above a crib near the far wall. The space was small, efficient, the kind of room designed for neutrality. It was neither warm, nor cold. Not too comforting, and not too sterile. It was built to feel temporary. Transitory. Not meant to be remembered.

That alone almost made Buck make up his mind. No child should be in a room like this, especially not a baby.

Tommy stepped forward first, his breath hitching the moment he spotted the small bundle lying in the crib. He didn’t say a word, just moved, like gravity pulled him forward. Buck stayed a step behind, hands in his pockets, eyes fixed on the tiny figure that looked even smaller than he had imagined.

Little Man was awake, his eyes drifting toward the sound of the door, dark and curious. There was no wailing, no panic. Just that soft, quiet alertness Tommy had mentioned. As Tommy approached, Little Man blinked up at him and let out a tiny grunt, one that almost made Buck’s heart melt.

Tommy’s face lit up, as if someone had ignited a candle behind his eyes. “Hi, buddy. Remember me?” He whispered, leaning over the crib.

Little Man’s eyes widened with a small noise, his tiny fists flailing around, almost as if he recognized the voice. Tommy reached in carefully gathering the baby in his arms. And, just like he had told Buck two days ago, as if it was the most natural thing in the world, Little Man curled against his chest, his little hand instantly grabbing Tommy’s shirt again.

Watching them, Buck felt something unexpected twist in his gut.

He was used to seeing Tommy with kids—Jee and Kevin, mostly—but this was different. Tommy wasn’t just good with this baby; he fit. Like some missing piece of him had clicked into place the moment he held that bundle. And God help him, Buck felt the shift. He felt it happen.

Tommy turned back toward him, smile soft, eyes wet. “Evan,” he said, voice low, reverent. “Say hi.”

Buck stepped forward, slower than he meant to, trying to suppress the million thoughts racing through his brain. He stood beside Tommy, his eyes flicking between his Partner and the baby tucked snug against his chest.

“Hey there,” he said, his voice just above a whisper. “You’re a cuddly little guy, huh?”

As if on cue, Little Man made a soft noise and smacked a tiny fist into Tommy’s collarbone. “He gets violent when he’s hungry,” he chuckled, wiping a tear from his eye.

Buck let out a shaky breath. Tommy was already in too deep, it seemed, but it wasn’t like he could fault him for that. He had only just met Little Man and was already falling under his spell just as much. Biting his lip, he reached out, hesitating just for a moment, then slowly offered a finger. The baby’s free hand latched on almost instantly, warm and impossibly small, barely big enough to fully grasp what Buck was offering.

And that was it. That tiny grip was all it took.

The dam cracked.

Something Buck hadn’t realized he’d been holding inside released, flooding his chest with something big and unfamiliar. Fear, sure. Uncertainty, absolutely. But also awe. Connection. That unshakable feeling that this mattered.

“He’s perfect.”

“I know.”

They stayed like that for seemingly hours, yet only seconds. The warmth of Little Man’s hand around his finger had Buck almost weep, and the ever widening grin on Tommy’s face he could see out of the corners of his eyes told him that he knew how gone on this baby he had gotten in just the two seconds (that somehow were also two hours) they’d been here.

“Time’s up.”

Tommy didn’t flinch at Diedra’s voice, though Buck could see his face falling slightly. He held Little Man for a moment longer, pressing a kiss to his forehead before slowly, carefully, tucking him back into the crib. His hand lingered just a second too long on the baby’s blanket, like letting go physically hurt.

And it apparently wasn’t just Tommy and Buck who felt that way. The moment Tommy’s hand left him, Little Man’s face began to scrunch up, a tiny sob escaping him that quickly became a full blown wail.

Tommy’s face crumpled with it, like each of those sobs was a tug on some thread knotted deep inside his chest. He took a half-step forward, then stopped himself with visible effort, hands fisted at his sides.

Buck stood frozen too, sucking in a, looking from the crib to Tommy, then to Diedra. “Can’t we just—?”

“No,” she said gently but firmly, already reaching past them to scoop Little Man up. “You’re not cleared. I shouldn’t have let you in at all.”

The baby’s cries echoed through the quiet room like a siren, piercing and frantic. His arms flailed in the air like he was reaching for something—or someone—he couldn’t see anymore.

Tommy turned away, rubbing the back of his neck with a shaking hand. Buck could see his body tensing, every muscle going stiff at once, every instinct in Tommy’s head screaming to reach back in and calm the baby down, to fix this.

“I’ll walk you out,” Diedra offered, her voice tight, as she cradled the baby against her shoulder. He kept crying, his sobs intersected by hiccups.

Tommy didn’t reply, just nodded, jaw clenched. Buck followed him in silence as they walked down the sterile corridor again, footsteps swallowed by the carpeted floor. When they reached the double doors to the exit, Diedra hesitated.

“You two are serious?” she asked softly, bouncing the baby a little in her arms. He wasn’t calming down.

Tommy turned back to her, his eyes a little red-rimmed now but locked with hers, steady as ever. “Dead serious.”

“And you’re willing to go through the process? The classes, the interviews, the paperwork, the wait?”

“Yes.”

Buck startled a little at the immediacy of his own voice, surprised it came from his mouth. But he meant it. Diedra looked between them again, her arms still rocking the now-fussy baby.

“If you are,” she said finally, “then don’t waste time. I’ll be over on Monday for the home inspection. Have the forms and letters of recommendation ready by then. The Wilsons, at least, but the more the better.”

Tommy nodded, swallowing hard as he met Diedra’s gaze. “We’ll be ready.”

Diedra gave a short nod of acknowledgment, then glanced down at the still-crying baby in her arms. “He’s not going to forget you, you know,” she said softly, almost to herself. “Babies this young… they remember safety. Warmth. A voice. He imprinted on you.” She looked up again, her expression softer this time. “Don’t make him wait too long.”

With that, the door clicked shut behind her.

For a long moment, Tommy and Buck stood in the chill of the early evening, the sun low and golden, casting long shadows across the parking lot. Buck’s shoulders were slumped, his hands shoved deep in his jacket pockets. Tommy exhaled shakily, turning his face up to the sky as if looking for an answer in the clouds.

“I wasn’t ready to leave him,” he said finally, a slight tremor to his voice.

“I know,” Buck murmured. He reached over, grabbing his hand and intertwining their fingers. “I wasn’t either.”

Tommy didn’t say anything, only gave Buck’s hand a gentle squeeze. For reassurance most likely.

They stood there until the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the city in dusky orange and purple hues. Neither of them moved until Buck finally cleared his throat.

“So,” he said, trying for casual and failing, “letters of recommendation. You think Bobby’ll write one without grilling us into next week?”

A short laugh escaped Tommy at that. “He’ll write three. And you know Eddie will, too.”

“Hen and Karen already said we could count on them.”

“And Chim and Maddie.” Tommy gave a small smile. “We’ve got people.”

With a low hum, Buck studied him for a few seconds. “You still really willing to quit your job if that’s what it takes?”

Tommy’s jaw ticked, and for a second, Buck thought he might backtrack. But then he exhaled deeply. “Yeah. I love what I do, Evan. But that baby…” His voice faltered. “I’d give it up in a heartbeat if it meant that we get to love him.”

His breath hitching, Buck swallowed hard, his heart swelling and aching at once. Yeah, Tommy was serious about this. Far more serious than Buck had actually anticipated. And the worst part was, Buck understood. One look at Little Man had been all it took for him to lose all sense of reason, apparently.

“We’ll figure it out,” he said eventually. “We always do.”

Tommy finally looked at him again, their eyes locking. “This isn’t just me jumping the gun and pulling you into something, right? You’re just as in as I am?”

Buck stepped closer, both hands cupping Tommy’s face, thumbs brushing away the unshed tears at the corners of his eyes before pulling him in for a short kiss.

“I’m just as in as you,” he confirmed firmly after pulling away. “We’re a team. If we’re doing this…” He paused. “We’re doing it together.”

Tommy leaned into the touch, eyes closing for a moment as if grounding himself in that promise. “Okay.”

“Okay,” Buck echoed.

👶🏻🍼👶🏻🍼👶🏻

Chimney loved Hen. He really did. She was his best friend, his sister in all but blood, his work partner, his ride-or-die.

But also, he hated her.

“Hen, please, the banner is fine!”

“Don’t you dare let go of it, Han!” Hen called back up, her hands on her hips. “Buck and Tommy are about to bring their first baby through that door, and if this banner isn’t 100%, absolutely straight by then, so help me!”

“Uh, Buck and Tommy aren’t straight, though,” Ravi, who stood on the ladder opposite Chim’s, said, pleading eyes looking down at Hen. “Maybe the banner shouldn’t be either?”

Hen stopped in her tracks, her eyes flicking up toward Ravi like she was trying to decide whether to laugh or throttle him. Chim could see the exact moment her lips twitched. “Ravi,” she said, voice painfully patient, “if I didn’t like you so much, I’d make you redo the entire balloon arch for that joke.”

Chim snorted, wobbling a little on the ladder. “He’s not wrong, though.”

“Focus, you two!” Hen barked, but she was smiling now, even as she moved to fluff one of the paper streamers hanging from the awning above the patio. “We only get one shot at a first welcome home, and I am not letting those two walk into anything less than perfection.”

From his perch, Chim glanced around Buck and Tommy’s backyard and had to admit it. Hen had outdone herself. Again.

There were balloons and banners, baby blue and soft yellow, the kind that looked like they’d been pulled straight from Pinterest. The “Welcome Home, Little Man!” banner atop a wooden arch adorned with more balloons was the centerpiece, flanked by stars and moons that Ravi had apparently painstakingly hand-cut the night before. The table was stacked with finger food and cupcakes, (prepared by Bobby for most of the previous night) and the massive diaper cake in the center was wrapped in cellophane and adorned with a little stuffed Dalmatian wearing a toy fire helmet.

“Should’ve made this a potluck,” Chim muttered as he adjusted the banner one last time. “You know Maddie’s gonna roast me for not bringing the good egg rolls.”

“She’d roast you either way,” Hen replied smoothly.

“Okay, fair.”

“Guys,” Eddie’s voice called from the garage, “they just pulled up!”

Hen immediately sprang into action like she was commanding a scene on a multi-car pileup. “Places, people!” she snapped, sweeping a streamer out of Chim’s hands. “I want everyone where they’re meant to be now!”

Chim scrambled off the ladder while Ravi nearly tripped coming down his own. From somewhere behind the grill, Bobby emerged with a dish towel still slung over his shoulder. “Where’s the kids?” he asked, brushing his hands off on his apron.

“Inside,” Eddie called back. “Karen’s got ’em watching cartoons so they don’t blow the surprise.”

“You mean like we’re in a sitcom?” Ravi asked as he quickly ducked under the archway. “Does this count as a surprise party if they literally know we’re here?”

Hen didn’t bother answering. Chim saw her fluffing a final decoration as he hurried to his spot, eyes sweeping the yard like her life depended on it. And then—

The sound of tires crunching gravel.

Everyone froze.

The gate to the side yard swung open.

And then Buck appeared first, stepping into the backyard with a wide-eyed, slightly overwhelmed expression that turned into a startled laugh as everyone shouted “Welcome home!”

Behind him, Tommy stepped through holding the baby carrier like it was made of glass, Little Man bundled inside in a soft blue blanket, very much not hospital issued this time, Chim noted. Tommy’s expression went soft the second he saw the banner.

“Oh my god,” Buck muttered, blinking rapidly. “Hen, did you—?”

“Of course I did,” Hen said smugly, already sweeping in for a hug. “You didn’t think I’d let your first foster placement come home without at least a themed party, did you?”

Tommy looked down at the carrier and then up at everyone, their whole chaotic, ridiculous fire family gathered on the lawn with streamers and cupcakes, and Chimney could see something in him just... settle. The tension in Tommy’s body that Chim knew hadn’t left ever since Little Man had first shown up at the 217 seemed to evaporate.

The baby stirred in his carrier at the noise, blinking his sleepy eyes as the sunlight hit his face. Buck knelt beside him instantly, fingers brushing his tiny hand. “Hey, buddy,” he murmured, a sing-songy quality to his voice, “you’re home.”

Chim immediately jogged over and peeked over Buck’s shoulder. “Okay, let me see this little stinkbug. I missed him, let me tell you!”

“Course you did,” Tommy laughed, stepping aside so Hen and Chim could get a closer look. The baby blinked up at them, nose wrinkling slightly. “He tends to have that effect on people.”

“Awww, look at him,” Chim cooed. Then, his eyes narrowed. “Great, I think he’s already judging me.”

“Smart kid.” Hen smirked, wiggling their eyebrows at him. Chim swatted her shoulder. She only laughed at him before turning back to Buck and Tommy. “So, is the parent panic setting in yet?”

Buck looked up from where he was crouched beside the carrier, then over at Hen with a look that was half amusement, half panic and all exhaustion. “Hen, the panic set in before we even left the receiving center.”

Tommy snorted, shifting a diaper bag higher on his shoulder. “Yeah, somewhere between ‘Sign here’ and ‘Here’s his car seat, don’t kill him,’ I think Evan went through all five stages of grief.”

“Hey,” Buck protested, but it didn’t have much heat behind it. He leaned down again and adjusted the edge of the baby’s blanket, tucking it a little closer under Little Man’s chin. “At least I didn’t try to google how many diapers a newborn needs while driving.”

“You were driving!” Tommy shot back, one of his eyebrows flying up to his hairline. “I was in the passenger seat!”

“Google still judged you.”

“Google always judges me.”

Hen just shook her head, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips as she glanced between them. “You two are going to be the most insufferable parents on the planet, aren’t you?”

Buck stood up, brushing his hands on his jeans. “That depends. Have we reached the part where we start referring to ourselves as ‘Dada’ and ‘Papa’ yet?”

Tommy raised a brow. “And which one of us is which?”

“Oh, I know you think you’re Dada,” Buck replied, already grinning, “but we’re gonna have to arm wrestle over that.”

“God help this child,” Chim muttered under his breath, though he was smiling too, peeking down into the carrier again. “You’ve got no idea what you’re in for, kiddo. Those two are craaaazy.”

Behind them, Karen had wrangled the kids out from inside, Kevin in her arms looking around the group with confused, but curious eyes. Jee-Yun and Mara came running down the lawn like tiny hurricanes, Jee colliding straight with Buck’s legs, clinging to him as she craned her head to look into the carrier.

“That’s my baby cousin?” she whispered, as if speaking too loud would somehow break him.

Buck nodded, slightly bending down to ruffle her hair. “Yeah, that’s him. Pretty small, huh?”

“He is,” Mara said, Jee looking on in awe. “Can we hold him?”

“Later. When he’s more used to so many people being around,” Tommy said, leaning down next to Buck, running a thumb over the baby’s cheek before gently taking him out of the carrier as everyone gathered around. He shot Buck a look, the other man giving a small nod in return, and then addressed the crowd. “Okay, so. You’ve probably already guessed that ‘Little Man’ isn’t gonna be his legal name.”

Tommy glanced around at the sea of expectant faces. Hen and Chim were elbowing each other to get a better look, Bobby, his arm around Athena, stood off to the side with that proud dad energy radiating off him, Eddie with Christopher tucked just beside him, Maddie cradling Kevin while Karen beamed from behind her. Even Ravi, who looked like he might start crying any second.

And right next to him, Buck stood close enough that their arms touched, eyes locked on the little baby in Tommy’s arms like the rest of the world had gone soft-focus.

“So…” Tommy said, bouncing the baby gently in his arms. “We would like you to formally meet Louis Oliver Buckley-Kinard.”

👶🏻🍼👶🏻🍼👶🏻

Later that night, when the backyard was quiet again and the last of the cupcakes had been packed into Tupperware, Tommy and Buck stood together in the nursery. The crib was finally assembled, (Bobby had insisted on doing it. ‘Just Grandpa things’ he’d called it, and if Buck had fought back tears at that, then that was fine!) the rocker in the corner sat waiting, and a small collection of toys handed down by their friends lined the low shelf against the wall.

Louis, freshly fed and changed, was asleep in Buck’s arms, impossibly small and soft and warm.

“You sure he’s not gonna hate the moon mobile?” Buck whispered, glancing up at the slow-turning decor.

“He’s a baby. He’s mostly just gonna stare at it and poop.”

“Fair enough.”

Tommy watched them for a long moment, then crossed the room to wrap an arm around Buck’s waist. “You’re doing good, Evan.”

“So are you,” Buck said, and didn’t hesitate before leaning in and pressing a kiss to Tommy’s temple.

They laid him down together. Little Man⸺Louis⸺didn’t fuss, didn’t stir, just sighed in his sleep and turned his head slightly to the side, already trusting that the world around him was safe, that his dads were there to protect him.

They stood there for a long time, watching him breathe.

“Welcome home, Louis,” Tommy whispered.

And Buck, barely louder than breath, echoed him. “Welcome home.”

#911 abc #bucktommy #tevan #bucktommy fanfic #bucktommywinterfest #fanfic

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mariacallous · 13 days ago

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In the middle of the nineteenth century, filth of every kind accumulated on the streets of New York. The land was boggy and lacked proper drainage. Epidemics ravaged many of the city’s impoverished neighborhoods. In the summer of 1864, an inspection undertaken by a committee of concerned physicians yielded a seventeen-volume report that catalogued the conditions. One inspector noted that, in his assigned district, refuse filled gutters, blocked sewage culverts, and sent forth “perennial emanations which generate pestiferous disease.” Another observed that certain streets better resembled “dung-hills rather than the thoroughfares in a civilized city.” In response to the report, state lawmakers introduced legislation that led to the establishment, in 1866, of the Metropolitan Board of Health, one of the country’s first municipal public-health authorities. Upon its formation, the board immediately confronted a potential cholera outbreak. It established quarantine measures and administered new health ordinances that helped to contain the spread of the disease. Support for the new agency soared, and other cities began organizing similar authorities. The modern-day public-health movement in the United States was born.

An important revelation from the “great sanitary awakening” of the nineteenth century, as it became known, was that social and environmental factors could significantly affect people’s health. During the second half of the twentieth century, policymakers began turning their attention to issues such as product and workplace safety as a way to save lives. In the mid-nineteen-fifties, nearly forty thousand people were dying every year from motor-vehicle accidents. Attention was primarily focussed on the responsibility of drivers, but physicians and engineers pointed out that most of these deaths were, in fact, preventable through changes in automobile design. In 1965, Ralph Nader, a young lawyer who later became an activist and a perpetual Presidential candidate, published “Unsafe at Any Speed,” a book examining the ways in which automakers had failed to prioritize safety. It became an unlikely nonfiction best-seller, alongside Truman Capote’s “In Cold Blood.” Nader’s reporting prompted congressional hearings and the formation of what is now known as the National Highway Traffic Safety Administration. William Haddon, a pioneering public-health scientist, became the agency’s first administrator and oversaw the first safety requirements for new cars, including energy-absorbing steering columns, shoulder harnesses, and side-door beams. The ratio of motor-vehicle deaths to miles travelled by drivers in the United States plummeted.

The principal aim of public health is prevention. It takes its scientific cues primarily from epidemiology, which studies the prevalence of diseases and their determinants to shape control strategies. In the mid-nineteen-sixties, public-health practitioners began to incorporate these methods into a nascent discipline known as injury science, taking on problems such as children falling from windows, residential fires, childhood drug poisonings, and, beginning in earnest in the nineteen-nineties, gun violence. The premise is tantalizingly straightforward: utilize scientific data to identify risk factors and the most vulnerable populations, and adopt multipronged solutions to stop problems before they arise. When it comes to gun deaths, for instance, public-health interventions might include pediatricians inquiring about safe storage at home, and the government establishing waiting periods for the purchase of firearms and raising the legal age for gun ownership. The challenge comes in marshalling consensus for the kind of community-wide solutions that public health demands. This is where public-health initiatives have often floundered, including with guns.

In recent years, public-health researchers have begun to consider whether a new societal threat deserves their scrutiny: political violence. One of the researchers leading this effort is Garen Wintemute, the director of the Violence Prevention Research Program at the University of California at Davis, who has spent more than four decades studying firearm violence. Wintemute is a gaunt, bespectacled emergency physician. (He still works four or five weekend shifts a month at U.C. Davis’s hospital.) He is seventy-two years old but speaks with an almost childlike inquisitiveness when discussing research into violent death. Wintemute told me that, during the coronavirus pandemic, he and his researchers tracked a nationwide surge in firearms purchases, particularly among first-time gun owners. Even as the COVID-19 crisis began to subside in 2021, they noticed that people were still purchasing guns at unusually high rates. Baffled by the ongoing demand, he wondered, What the hell is this? He spent a week immersing himself in the available data on political polarization and its connection to violence. When he emerged, he concluded that the subject of political violence urgently needed study, because people seemed to be “arming up” and the result “could reshape the future of the country.” He eventually directed a third of his thirty-person team to spend at least some of their time on a new project: researching the possibility that people might resort to violence to achieve their political ends.

As with any public-health problem, the first task was to collect reliable data. Wintemute’s team conducted their first broad-based survey in 2022 and found that nearly a third of the population believed that violence was usually or always justified to advance at least one of seventeen political objectives—a list that included curbing voter fraud, stopping illegal immigration, and returning Donald Trump to the Presidency. Nearly one in five agreed strongly or very strongly with the statement that “having a strong leader for America is more important than having a democracy.” The willingness to justify violence was greater among people who identified as “strong Republicans” than those who identified as “strong Democrats.” Another study by Wintemute’s team found that nearly half of a cohort that they labelled “MAGA Republicans”—self-identified Republicans who voted for Trump in 2020 and believed the election was stolen—strongly or very strongly agreed with the statement “Our American way of life is disappearing so fast that we may have to use force to save it.” Wintemute also examined the threat posed by right-wing extremists who endorse racist beliefs and the use of violence to effect social change, and who express approval of certain militia groups such as the Proud Boys and the Oath Keepers. Within this small subset—Wintemute estimates it to be less than two per cent of the population—he found strong association with support for political violence and the willingness to engage in such violence.

Yet certain findings offered Wintemute reason for optimism. A survey published last month found that only 6.5 per cent of the population believes strongly or very strongly that a civil war is coming, and just 3.6 per cent that the “United States needs a civil war to set things right.” Both figures are roughly similar to the previous year’s findings, an unexpected result, given that 2024 is a Presidential-election year and political tensions have ratcheted upward. Wintemute also found that, of the 3.7 per cent of respondents who said they considered it very or extremely likely they’d participate as a combatant in a large-scale conflict, more than forty-four per cent said they would be “not likely” to join if they were dissuaded by family members; more than thirty per cent said they could be deterred if a respected religious leader urged them not to participate; and just under a quarter said they could be dissuaded by a respected news or social-media source. The implication, according to Wintemute, is “a large percentage are saying, ‘You can talk me out of it.’ ” That points the way to potential public-health interventions, which might include consistent messaging from the media, religious leaders, and others about rejecting political violence.

The threat of violence has hovered like a nimbus cloud over this election season. The spectre of the January 6th insurrection at the Capitol remains omnipresent, but the two most visible instances of violence during the 2024 campaign have been directed at Trump. On July 13th, during a Trump campaign rally in Butler, Pennsylvania, a man on a warehouse roof fired eight times at the former President. A bullet grazed Trump’s ear; one rallygoer, a former volunteer fire chief, was killed; two others were injured. Then, on September 15th, as the former President was playing a round of golf at his club in West Palm Beach, a Secret Service agent patrolling the grounds spotted the muzzle of a rifle poking out of the shrubbery along a chain-link fence. The agent opened fire and the gunman fled. After the authorities arrested him, they discovered that he had been staking out the course for hours. Democrats have also been targeted. In Tempe, Arizona, state Party officials recently closed a campaign field office after it was shot at three times in three weeks.

According to tracking by the Bridging Divides Initiative, at Princeton University, threats and harassment of local public officials surged in July. Despite this, violence by extremist groups, as reported by a different organization, the Armed Conflict Location and Event Data, has actually ebbed this year, likely because law enforcement has arrested dozens of members of these groups for their participation in the Capitol riot. It makes for a perplexing picture. Is political violence an imminent threat to Americans or not? Political scientists, applying their theoretical frameworks, have long made clear the reasons for concern, including the way the country’s deepest cleavages, over race, ethnicity, religion, geography, and culture, are now embedded in people’s politics; the weakening of democracy’s guardrails during the Trump era; and the spread of misinformation.

The promise of public health is that it rests on scientific data and offers pragmatic solutions. Treating political violence like a contagion could help safeguard the future of American democracy. And yet the same fractures that potentially drive political violence can imperil the collaboration needed to address public-health crises. They can also lead to the most dangerous symptom of all: a sense of helplessness. But, if we simply wait for the disease to strike, it may already be too late.

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nagiwrites · 3 months ago

Text

Starlit bonds

A/n: hello I’m sorry I’m late with this chapter I’m gonna post chapter 3 also soon. Tbh I’ve been writing this on my own time and reading it myself 😂 I’ve been lazy but thanks for the patience. Also to refrain from saying in-game chara a lot when sylus is moving and speaking it’s the chara unless I say otherwise.

CH.2 – First Impressions

[← back] [→ next]

☆ Content: interactive romance, sci-fi setting, shy!love interest (Y/N), slow burn, reverse-harem, eventually smut maybe, Black MC coded but anyone can read, Black Mirror-ish, ocs also in the chap u can imagine what u want them to look like though

Characters: Sylus, Kaela, Reyna, Nova, Y/N, and the crew.

📌 Synopsis:

A new captain, a new crew, and a ship that runs on more than just fuel—it runs on trust. Sylus might have thought stepping aboard was the hard part, but fitting in? That’s an entirely different challenge.

Sylus pressed the choice.

“Bold move? Should I be worried about hazing rituals?”

The first woman let out a short laugh, shaking her head as she lifted her mug to her lips. “Oh, you’re sharp. I like that.” She took a sip before setting it down again. “Don’t worry, Captain. We’re not that cruel. Well, most of us.”

The second woman, the one with the glasses, simply raised an eyebrow. “Hazing? Hardly. But fitting into a crew like ours… that’s another matter entirely.”

The third woman, who had yet to speak, finally leaned forward, her elbows resting on her knees as she regarded him with cool amusement. “Hazing rituals are for rookies,” she said, tilting her head. “We just watch and see if you can handle yourself.”

Y/N shifted uncomfortably beside him. “Um… we should probably start with introductions,” they interjected, their voice quieter than the others.

As soon as Sylus seen the girls, the screen in front of him flickered, and a sleek HUD overlay materialized—an “Introduction Protocol” prompt activating automatically. Each crew member’s name, role, and specialty appeared in glowing text beside their image, a faint pulse marking their presence in real time. A small “Crew Compatibility Rating” hovered at the bottom—currently unavailable.

[Press to Continue] he pressed.

Meet the Crew

☄️Kaela – Ship’s engineer, weapons specialist, and general problem solver. “If something’s broken, I fix it. If something—or someone—needs taking care of, I handle that too.”

📍 Reyna – Navigator and tactical analyst. “If you want to know where we’re going or how to get there in one piece, I’m the one to ask.”

🛸 Nova – Pilot. “Don’t get in my way, and we won’t have a problem.”

📡 Y/N – Communications and research specialist. “Data analysis, language interpretation, signal tracking… um, things like that.”

Sylus noted the stark differences between them—Kaela’s confident, teasing demeanor, Reyna’s composed and methodical approach, and Nova’s no-nonsense attitude. It was a dynamic crew, and it was already clear that they weren’t the type to follow just anyone.

His eyes flicked back to Y/N on the screen, you stood slightly apart from the group, hands clasped in front of yourself. You hesitated for a moment before speaking.

“I… I handle communications and research,” they said softly, almost like they weren’t sure their role was as important as the others. “Data analysis, language interpretation, signal tracking… um, things like that.”

Kaela shot you a grin. “And she makes a mean cup of tea.”

Y/N’s face turned a shade darker, and they ducked their head slightly. “I just… like to be useful.”

Sylus couldn’t help but find the contrast between them and the others fascinating. Where they were bold and direct, Y/N was quiet, reserved—yet there was an undeniable sincerity to them.

Dialogue Choice Appeared:

🔹 1. “Sounds like an impressive crew. I’m lucky to have you all.” (Leader-like response)

🔹 2. “I get the feeling I’m going to have my hands full with you guys.” (Playful response)

🔹 3. “I’ll do my best to keep up—just try not to leave me in the dust.” (Confident response)

Sylus hovered over the options, his mind already racing with possibilities.

Sylus pressed.

“I get the feeling I’m going to have my hands full with you guys.”

Kaela grinned, leaning back against the counter with an easy confidence. “Oh, you have no idea, Captain.” She lifted her mug in a mock toast before taking another sip. “But hey, at least you catch on quick.”

Reyna smirked slightly but said nothing, merely observing him as if making her own silent assessments. Nova, on the other hand, gave a quiet scoff, arms still crossed. “As long as you can keep up, we won’t have a problem.”

Sylus raised his eyebrow, he really wished he could respond on his own, he looks back at his screen, the camera then pans to a small shift in movement beside his in-game avatar.

Y/n fidgeted slightly, her fingers curling at the hem of her sleeve again. She wasn’t laughing or teasing him like the others—if anything, she looked like she wanted to disappear into the floor.

“I-I think you’ll do fine,” she murmured, glancing up at him briefly before quickly averting her gaze.

Sylus felt an odd twinge in his stomach at the way she said it—like she truly meant it but wasn’t used to speaking her thoughts aloud. The others may have been testing him in their own ways, but…it felt like you was rooting for him.

He sighs, what am I even feeling right now he thinks. it must be all the coffee I drunk earlier coming back to me yeah…must be that…

Before he could dwell on it more a chime rang out from his device. The ship ai had interrupted.

“Captain, your presence is required at the Command Center for further mission briefing.”

Reyna shut her tablet with a quiet snap. “That’s your cue.”

Kaela stretched, rolling her shoulders. “Looks like playtime’s over.”

Nova was already pushing herself off the couch. “Let’s see if our new Captain can handle the pressure.”

Y/n hesitated before taking a small step toward the door. “I’ll… I’ll show you the way.”

Sylus in-game character nodded, following as she led him out of the common area and down another long corridor. The others trailed behind them, their presence a silent reminder that his thoughts about just being a casual player was dwindling by the second.

As they walked, a notification popped up in the corner of Sylus’ device.

[New Tutorial Unlocked: Crew Bonding Mini-Games]

Objective: Engage with crew members in interactive scenarios to build rapport and unlock unique character moments.

Below the prompt, a smaller window displayed an alert:

[Mini-Game: Synchronization Test – Assist y/n]

A brief description followed: Help y/n calibrate the ship’s internal communication relay. Improve synchronization for better teamwork!

Sylus blinked as a glowing waypoint appeared just ahead of them, leading to a small control panel embedded in the wall. Y/n noticed it too, her eyes widening slightly.

“Oh… this relay needs recalibrating,” she murmured, half to herself. She hesitated before looking up at Sylus. “Would you, um… mind helping me? It won’t take long.”

A mini-game interface overlaid the screen, displaying a series of circular nodes connected by shifting energy lines. A small tutorial prompt explained the mechanics:

[Tap the nodes in the correct order to match the synchronization sequence. Time your inputs carefully for a higher accuracy rating.]

Sylus smirked, cracking his knuckles getting ready for this mini game. Alright, let’s see what this game’s got.

He began the mini-game. The nodes pulsed in a rhythmic sequence, and he had to tap them in order, matching the glowing pattern as it flickered across the screen. The first few were easy, but soon the pulses sped up, testing his reaction time.

Y/n voice cut through the game interface. “Oh! That was close—try again!” As if taunting him to try harder, he rolls his eyes continuing.

Sylus barely caught the mistake in time, adjusting his timing just as the final sequence locked in. The screen flashed SUCCESS! in bright letters, and a soft chime signaled completion.

[Mini-Game Complete! Crew Bonding +5 | y/n Affinity Increased]

Y/n let out a small breath of relief, a tiny smile forming as she glanced at him. “You’re… really good at that. Thank you.”

Sylus in-game character talks. “Told you I had this under control.”

Her expression softened for a moment, and for the first time, she met his gaze fully.

Then, another notification popped up.

[New Mini-Game Unlocked: Combat Training – Spar with Nova]

From behind them, Nova’s voice cut through the moment. “Alright, Captain. Time to see if you can actually fight.”

Sylus sighed, rolling his shoulders. “No rest for the wicked, huh?”

He didn’t think he would actually be excited to explore this game even more. If Luke and Kieran ever found out he would have to kill them. He laughs a little to himself going back to the game.

As soon as Sylus tapped the screen, the game transitioned seamlessly into Combat Training Mode. His phone vibrated lightly in his hands, and a sleek UI overlay appeared, displaying his health bar, a stamina meter, and a set of virtual buttons for dodging, attacking, and countering. They were just fighting with bare hands for now.

A tutorial prompt popped up at the top of the screen:

[Combat Mini-Game: Spar with Nova]

Swipe to dodge | Tap to attack | Hold to block

Nova cracked her knuckles on-screen, shifting into a ready stance. A countdown appeared.

3… 2… 1… BEGIN!

The moment the match started, Nova lunged forward. Sylus instinctively swiped left, making his in-game avatar dodge just in time. His phone buzzed slightly with the motion, adding to the immersion.

“Not bad,” Nova commented, smirking. “But let’s see if you can keep up.”

She struck again, this time faster. Sylus tapped quickly to block, but Nova’s next attack broke through his defense. His screen flashed -5 HP, and a sharp vibration signaled the hit.

Okay, this is more intense than he expected.

He adjusted his grip on his phone and tapped to counterattack, landing a quick strike. Nova’s health bar dipped slightly, and she let out a small grunt.

“Finally fighting back? Good.”

The game picked up in pace, forcing Sylus to react faster. Nova was relentless, weaving in feints and sudden bursts of speed that made dodging tricky. His thumb flicked across the screen, narrowly avoiding a heavy strike that could’ve ended the match.

Then, a notification popped up:

N Strike – Tap when prompted to execute a perfect counter.]

Right on cue, Nova went for a strong attack. A glowing circle appeared on the screen with a quick-time prompt: TAP NOW!

Sylus reacted instantly, his thumb slamming the screen. His avatar ducked low before delivering a precise counterstrike, sending Nova stumbling back.

KO!

The screen flashed VICTORY, and a new notification appeared:

[Mini-Game Complete! Combat Skill +5 | Nova Affinity Increased]

Nova dusted herself off, rolling her shoulders as she studied him with newfound respect. “You’re not bad, Captain. Maybe this won’t be so boring after all.”

Sylus exhaled, shaking out his hands. He hadn’t expected a mobile game to get his adrenaline going like that.

Y/n, who had been watching quietly from the sidelines, looked both impressed and relieved. “That was… really good.”

A new dialogue choice appeared:

1. “That was intense. Think I earned my place here?” [Confident response]

2. “You weren’t holding back, were you?” [Playful response]

3. “I got lucky. Next time, you’ll probably destroy me.” [Humble response]

Sylus hovered over the options, a smirk tugging at his lips.

This game was way more immersive than he had expected.

With a smirk, Sylus tapped the second option.

“You weren’t holding back, were you?”

Nova raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms. “Would you rather I did?” she shot back, her tone edged with amusement.

Sylus’ phone vibrated as a new prompt popped up:

[Nova Affinity +2 | She respects your confidence.]

He grinned to himself. Nice.

Kaela, who had been lounging nearby, chuckled. “I’d say she went easy on you, Captain. But if you’re happy with a small win, who am I to ruin your moment?”

Sylus exhaled a laugh, rolling his shoulders as if shaking off the tension from the fight. “A win is a win, Kaela.”

[New Objective: Continue the Ship Tutorials]

Y/n, still standing a little apart from the others, cleared her throat softly. “Um… should we move on? There’s still a lot of the ship to see.”

Her quiet voice was enough to shift the energy in the room. The crew members exchanged glances before stepping aside to let her take the lead again.

As Sylus followed y/n down another hallway, his phone buzzed again, displaying another mini-game notification:

[New Mini-Game Unlocked: Engineering Puzzle – Assist Kaela]

He sighed, shaking his head with a grin. This game was seriously going all out with immersion.

He moved the screen around changing the perspective. Moving the camera to y/n, he noticed how she kept stealing quick glances at him, as if debating whether to say something. Maybe it was just her shy nature, or maybe…

Sylus smirked.

This game wasn’t just about romance or adventure—it was about connection. And the more he played, the more he realized he wasn’t just here to pass the time.

Ok he was hooked.

A/n: ok I’m gonna stop right here I’m not sure if this is long I think it’s long enough… Also I’m not sure if u guys want all the extra game stuff in the story with the other girls but I won’t make it too much I think. Anyways if u wanna be tagged then comment. Also could use some mc pics for my chapters so feel free to message me if u want.

Tags:

@kaylauvu

@codedove

@crazy-ink-artist

#sylus x y/n #sylus x you #sylus fic #sylus x reader #sylus x mc #lnds sylus #love and deepspace sylus #lads sylus

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somestorythoughts · 3 months ago

Text

Phineas and Ferb Prompt Pt 2:

I wish I'd thought of a title for this the other day instead it's just "prompt pt 2" but in my defense, I didn't think I'd be writing more of it.

Edit: Prompt, Next.

........

The being that calls himself Heinz Doofenshmirtz is very familiar with failure.

He's a god of crafts. The forge especially, things of metal shine and bend under his hands. Failure is a part invention. So few things work right the first time, and if they do, the odds are you won't be able to replicate it the next. Not without practice.

If he's has someone to listen, he'll happily regale them with some of his more interesting failures. Of his inventions sure, but also of the times he's gotten a bit too ambitious, or felt like causing trouble, and promptly got into a fight with the other gods about it. Probably for the best he never won, he doesn't know what he'd do if he did, but it was always entertaining.

He's getting off topic. People had prayed to him for inspiration and laughed at stories of his failure in equal measure, and yet, it's been a long time since failure has rankled this badly.

Months in hiding, staying ahead of hunters who couldn't even be bothered to create an interesting name for their group. Years spent trying to understand what had happened to the rest of the pantheon, trying to find them, trying to create a machine to fix it. But it's hard to solve the last problem without knowing the details of the first, and even though he's finally found them he can't get any of them to STAY STILL long enough for him to get a good look at them!

At least he found a way to regularly interact with some of them. Becoming an evil scientist hadn't been his plan, he'd been making wheelchairs and considering prosthetics before he figured out the best way to get OWCA's attention without revealing what he was. But it's certainly entertaining. And it's given him insight into the organization, even if he doesn't have the information he needs. So what does he know?

He knows the other gods are bound to animal shape, though he isn't certain if there was a reason for each specific animal. Perry The Platypus is the only one he's spent enough time with to be certain of who's under the fur since the binding makes it difficult to know who he's dealing with aside from fellow-divine-same-but-different. He knows they can't speak but that they remain far more capable than regular animals. The Dr. Feelbetter incident was helpful in gaining an idea of what some of the others looked like, so he has that.

He doesn't think they know what they are. At the very least The Platypus hasn't tried to communicate with him aside from eyerolls (which is certainly a sign that some things HAVEN'T changed).

What he really needs is a way of getting a close look at the magic that binds them and it'd be nice if there was a way to do it without tipping off OWCA like one of those airport security scanners but secret- he's an idiot.

.........

The fact that the scan-inator is fairly easy to make just reinforces his idiocy. He keeps Perry The Platypus in place long enough for a thorough scan by singing a particularly long song about pharmacists that give you the run around (Charlene has vented extensively about this), then takes his beating and reviews the scan-inator's findings.

Shit.

Okay. He can work with this. He's going to need to do more shopping than he hoped considering the effort he put into having magical materials on hand and it's going to be a pain in the ass to make it portable (since going to them is easier than trying to lure all of them to his apartment), but he can work with this.

He rolls his neck, cracks metal hands he engineered to make that familiar popping sound, and gets to work.

.........

"Perry the Platypus!" A title, not his but still a title, spoke with emotion, Heinz's attempt to give an old friend a little of the worship that was once their norm. "You are too late!"

Heinz aimed. The Platypus lunged. The Divine-inator fired.

Something indescribable, teal and slick and soft, twisted and warped in midair. Something chatter-creaked a sound like breaking branches and chittering creatures overlapping and twisting like water. Flashes of fiery orange writhed in pain and tore the fedora to charred shreds.

Changing shape shouldn't hurt, but they've been confined to one physical shape for years. He isn't surprised it's had an effect.

"Better?" He asks hesitantly, when it seems like his fellow god has calmed down. A creaking snarl answered him.

"I am feeling exceptionally vengeful" the other rasped, opening doors and blade on stone. "I'm going to show them what an angry guardian looks like."

It's what Perry had been, what he was. A guardian god of house and home, a liminal creature that stood guard at the thresholds and watched over people, especially during times of change. A protector.

Protector deities are swords and shields. Sometimes humans focus too much on the shields, and forgot about the swords.

"As glad as I am to see one of you again, I'd really like to see more of you first." Heinz replied. "It took ages to make this Divine-inator, and if we both get caught, I don't know who's going to make another. We can start with Seattle, I'm pretty sure I know who Peter the Panda is."

The teal and fire mass in front of him condenses into a shape that mostly resembles a short human man, dressed in loose clothes without shoes. His expression is unhappy. "They put most of us with families. They didn't want us all together, so they put us with people we'd care about. I don't know what will happen if they find out."

Heinz reaches out carefully, wraps the other god into a hug and leans his forehead against his. Loose waves of teal and shimmering silver gleam in the air. "We need backup." He murmured. "I've been scrambling their footage every time you came. We don't have a lot of time, but we do have some, and Peter the Panda is the only one who's location I know. I have a way to get there quickly, I promise."

Perry took a deep breath he didn't need. "Go. Quickly." His hands tightened around Heinz's metal arms. "Before you go I, no one's said my name in years. Could you?"

Heinz says a name that echoes across the room with sounds that cannot be made in a human throat. Perry sags in relief, eyes closing, and returns the favor.

#deity au?#I had a line about it and then wrote something completely different than what was percolating in my head #but Heinz is basically the divine patron/protector of anyone with physical disabilities #he's not the person you pray to when someone's sick he's the one you pray to when you have to relearn to walk or need a new wheelchair #phineas and ferb #perry the platypus #heinz doofenshmirtz

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90s-shitbox · 1 year ago

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The Mid Night Club

The Mid Night Club, also known as ミッドナイトクラブ (Middo Naito Kurabu), was formed in April 1982, despite many sources mistakenly claiming its founding year as 1987. The club is best known for its high-speed races on Tokyo's Shuto Expressway at night. Membership was highly coveted, as it signified elite status within the street racing community due to the stringent entry requirements and the extraordinary skill and discipline of its members. The club became notorious for its adherence to safety and speed, with members driving highly modified cars capable of sustaining extreme speeds over long distances.

The Mid Night Club didn't focus on acceleration or cornering ability; their sole objective was top speed. To gain entry into this exclusive group, prospective members had to demonstrate their ability to maintain a speed of at least 260 km/h (160 mph) for prolonged periods and do so safely. Despite the apparent paradox, the club's gentlemen's code required members to avoid endangering others, and any reckless behavior would result in immediate expulsion.

Newcomers who met these criteria became apprentice members, needing to attend every meeting for a year before becoming full members. Throughout its existence, the club had about 30 members on average, peaking at 75. Most members could sustain speeds of 305 km/h (190 mph), while top racers could exceed 322 km/h (200 mph). Races typically began from speeds of 100-120 km/h (60-75 mph), with the third car in the pack signaling the start by honking.

Yoshida Special's 930, often referred to as the "Blackbird," is the most iconic car from the Mid Night Club, and for good reason. This extensively modified Porsche 911 Turbo (930) boasts a 3.6-liter turbocharged flat-six engine that delivers 700 bhp. It is rumored that the owner invested around $2 million in modifications. This substantial investment was necessary to create a machine capable of consistently maintaining speeds of 350 km/h (217 mph) for over 15 minutes—a feat that was challenging and costly in the mid-1990s and remains so today. Remarkably, the Blackbird is still operational.

The ABR-Hosoki Fairlady Z S130, another renowned car of a Mid Night Club member, was a significant rival to the Blackbird. Originally a 1978 Nissan 280ZX, it underwent extensive modifications to become a formidable show car and eventually made its way to the Wangan. This vehicle boasts 680 horsepower and is tuned to race at speeds of 330 km/h (205 mph), with a maximum capability of reaching 348 km/h (216 mph). There is a rumor that it once outpaced the Blackbird on the Wangan, but this remains unverified.

The Mid Night Club remains a legendary chapter in the annals of street racing history. From the iconic Blackbird Porsche 930 to the formidable ABR-Hosoki Fairlady Z S130, these cars and their drivers pushed the boundaries of speed and engineering. With a strict code of conduct prioritizing safety and skill, the club's elite members and their high-performance machines continue to inspire awe and fascination among car enthusiasts and the broader public alike.

The Mid Night Club, disbanded in 1999 following a tragic incident. During a high-speed encounter with a local Bōsōzoku biker gang, a collision occurred, resulting in the hospitalization of six innocent civilians and the deaths of two bikers. This incident violated the club's strict code against endangering other drivers, prompting its immediate dissolution.

#JDM #EUDM #Street Racing #Wangan Midnight #Wangan #Car Club #The Mid Night Club #The Mid Night Racing #Japanese Cars #Blackbird #Devil Z #Car Culture #日本のストリートレーシング #ミッドナイトクラブ #ミッドナイトレーシングチーム #湾岸ミッドナイト #首都高バトル #非合法ストリートレーシング

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deadheaddaisy · 2 months ago

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Day 21

Prompt: The Moment They Fell In Love

AO3 link

S1.E16 ∙ Shuttlepod One

He lay quietly under the blankets, arms on either side of his body, so still that she kept a vigilant eye on his chest to make sure it was rising and falling. His chin was stubbled, his face drawn - not quite gaunt, thankfully - and dark shadows bloomed like bruises under the sweep of his eyelashes.

She wanted to reach for his hand, wanted to hold his fingers in hers and push her warmth into his skin, but she feared disturbing his slumber. He needed to rest and recover. Instead, she placed two fingers on the back of his hand, feather-light, feeling the coolness of his skin where usually there was warmth, heat, life.

He was her friend. One of her closest friends. She could have lost him. Her eyes lifted briefly to the other bio-bed, where a blond head lay, also in repose; she could have lost them both. But the dark head in front of her drew all her attention.

So she sat, eyes burning with unshed moisture, barely touching his skin, and thought back on the months since a silly question had led to one of the most genuine friendships of her life. Since boarding this ship had brought her one of the people who was becoming integral to her day-by-day equilibrium.

When he awoke, several hours later, both ensigns were at his bedside, welcoming him back with glad smiles and cheer. His friend, the commander, was awake, too, and they shared a smile.

He had no idea that she’d kept vigil. Only a faint memory of the gentle brush of fingers on his hand ghosted through his awareness before being swept away by the relief that his home had survived.

****

S1.E18 ∙ Rogue Planet

He’d known, as soon as he turned his eyes to her, that she knew what he was up to.

It was difficult to hide his glee from the commander, especially when he saw how her cheeks had rounded as she swallowed her smile. But when she opened her mouth and began embellishing his story, he knew he’d found a kindred spirit.

The way she stood up and walked off without even acknowledging him as a co-conspirator made him proud. He stared after her in admiration and couldn’t prevent a chuckle at the Chief Engineer’s look of horror.

The baton had been offered, and she’d picked it up and run with it.

He was impressed, and he’d make sure she knew it.

****

S2.E10 ∙ Vanishing Point

No one saw her. No one heard her. Even him. Even Porthos.

Still, he defended her. Even as a hallucination, he told Travis to leave her alone. He listened to her tale.

And throughout, she heard his voice, calling to her. That British accent, crisp, but sounding more and more desperate each time she heard his words.

His voice guided her, gave her strength and persistence to carry on.

And once she was back, the relief in his eyes was clearly visible.

She told him, later, that his voice had been her lifeline.

And he smiled.

****

S3.E6 ∙ Exile

She wasn’t on the ship. She wasn’t on the bridge. She wasn’t in the Armoury, practising her marksmanship.

She wasn’t there.

They had left her behind. He had left her behind. Left her with an alien, a creature unlike any they had seen before. An alien man who had an inordinate fascination with their communications officer; who had not only entered her mind, but had made her feel as though she was losing her mind.

And he had been unable to help her, unable to figure out that a real problem existed. He cursed himself for his inability to accept what she was experiencing instead of dismissing it as simply being inside her head, because he couldn’t see evidence on his scanners.

Now? He wasn’t with her. He wasn’t there to protect her. He wasn’t there to keep her safe from whatever it was this alien planned.

He had to stop thinking about it, or go mad. He’d ensured she was armed, at the least. He’d had to take refuge in the knowledge that she was one of his best pupils, that she was well able to take care of herself, that she was fearless when the moment required it, and fiercely committed to their mission and saving their planet.

She was no pushover. She’d moved beyond her initial trepidation and had proven more than once how competent and dedicated she was. And despite her innate pleasure at meeting new species, exploring new planets, learning new languages, she had never been naïve, instead developing a healthy sense of caution and a better understanding of danger.

Her eyes had flicked to his when the alien had made his request for her to stay, and he knew she wanted him there, her stalwart protector; but he also knew her stubbornness. She would not want him hovering.

So he put his faith in her abilities, her scepticism, her intuition, her training. It was all he could do. And now they were on their way back to retrieve her.

Suddenly, the lights went out. All systems went down. Breathing became difficult. Then all at once, everything was back to normal. Her voice, strong and confident, came through the communications system.

And he could breathe again.

****

S3.E20 ∙ The Forgotten

She’d watched the temperature rising in his suit. Watched it go beyond acceptable limits. Raised the alarm, and listened as he’d dismissed it.

She knew he was dedicated. Knew he would do whatever it took to save the ship, even at the expense of his own life. It was one of the traits that she admired about him.

Seeing that dedication in action, however, was an exercise in fear and frustration. Yes, his push to keep going was admirable, but dammit, did he not realise that she - that they - were aware of what he was doing?

She’d been hearing his breathing become more laboured, stertorous, as the heat baked him and his EV suit struggled to compensate. She wanted to scream into the microphone, but he wouldn’t thank her for the interruption, and it wasn’t her call to make.

The temperature rose. She couldn’t prevent the note of concern as she gave another warning. The frustration in the captain’s voice grated; she knew they needed this fix to be done, as much as he was concerned about Malcolm. But their leader had become so hard, so obsessed, that sometimes she wondered what - or who - he’d sacrifice to see it through.

He’d already sacrificed his honour, and Malcolm’s at the same time. Now Malcolm looked as though he himself would be the next sacrifice.

Why did their tactical officer have to be so damned bloody-minded? So prepared to risk his life?

Finally it was done, and Trip was calling for the doctor to meet them in the airlock, his voice frantic. It felt as though he was channelling her thoughts. Somehow she managed to keep her seat instead of rushing to the airlock alongside the captain. But she had no right, and she had no permission, so she had to stay where she was, despite the frantic need thrumming through her veins.

By the time she was able to get to Sickbay, he was asleep while they brought down his temperature. There wasn’t much chance for her to sit with him; they were on a tight schedule, and he would be on his feet within the next half-hour, if Phlox was to be believed.

She didn’t dare touch him this time. Unlike before, he was twitchy, clearly much more alert than previously, adrenaline running through him. One touch from her would wake him, and she didn’t want to think about what the consequences might be.

But he was there, alive, in front of her. And that would have to do.

****

S3.E24 ∙ Zero Hour

She’d been taken. Right off the bridge. And he hadn’t been there. He’d had to watch as Enterprise warped away, and then when they’d rejoined the ship, she was gone.

Taken by a species that hated her, that hated them, and been subjected to gods knew what kind of treatment.

He hadn’t been allowed to go with the team to get her back. He’d had to leave her rescue in the hands of his one-time nemesis, Major Hayes. The man to whom he owed a debt he couldn’t repay. The Major had promised to bring her back, and he had, at the expense of his own life.

He’d seen her in Sickbay when he’d been summoned by the doctor to witness Hayes’ final moments. She’d been virtually unrecognisable; pale, almost corpse-like, with livid holes drilled in her delicate temples.

Aboard Degra’s ship, he’d had to give her a treatment for which he wasn’t trained, hoping he wasn’t damaging her brain any further. He’d carefully wrapped her in a blanket, trying to get her to rest. Then his heart had almost stopped in his chest when she’d muttered something about trying to jump, to stop herself from giving them what they wanted. She’d started shaking and crying, and he’d taken her into his arms to offer what comfort he could, careful not to touch the wounds on her temples, until she’d fallen into an uneasy sleep.

Now he watched her on the Xindi weapon, pride swelling in his chest as she pushed through her pain and fear to get the job done. Pushing into the back of his mind thoughts of how, just a few hours ago, he’d had to restrain himself from outright attacking his captain for forcing her to carry on with decryption when she was barely conscious and clearly hurting.

He looked at her wan face, and knew he would never tell anyone - would barely acknowledge it to himself - of the sheer satisfaction he’d felt, knocking that Xindi off the platform and down into the core of the weapon. For what they’d done to her, they could all rot in whatever hell they believed in.

****

S4.E17 ∙ Bound

Her head hurt. Her heart hurt. And she wanted to hurt him. Them. All of them. The men, gullible fools that they were. The women, green-skinned bitches with sly smiles and sidelong looks.

He’d fallen for their charms with barely a moment’s pause. Him, the captain, the MACOs. All supposedly so well-trained. Hadn’t he been trained to resist interrogation? Couldn’t he tell when he was being manipulated?

She wanted to kick him. Right where the sun didn’t shine, and other, less savoury places. The rest of the men, she’d happily knock some sense into their thick heads. Preferably using a wall.

She saw the same desire in Kelly’s face, looking at Rostov. She saw the way Liz frowned at Travis and Tanner, and knew they understood.

But him. For falling for the wiles of the Orion women? And looking at her across the bridge as though she didn’t exist? He wouldn’t need the transporter to render him infertile when she got through with him.

If only her head would stop hurting.

****

S4.E21 ∙ Terra Prime

He couldn’t stop the thrill of pride that raced up his spine when he looked at the security footage of the bridge and saw her determination. Watched her stand up to someone who tried to dominate her into following his orders. Saw how the other women in the room looked to her for guidance as the official tried to use his position of power into making her give way to his will.

But the apprehensive communications officer from four years earlier was no more. The woman who stood in her place, courteous but defiant, had a spine of steel, forged over years of experience, sharpened in the fight for their world’s survival.

She had not let their friendship stop her from doing what had to be done, when he’d made his move to let himself be found out. And then she’d exonerated him for his actions, held him while he’d sobbed, and pushed him to seek forgiveness and understanding from the doctor who’d suffered the most from his deeds. Because of her, one of his dearest relationships had been saved.

A few hours ago, they had seen two of their closest friends mourn a little soul, lost too soon, created out of hate but remembered with infinite love. And he knew he couldn’t keep going this way, pretending she meant no more to him than a beloved friend.

The door to the observation lounge slid open. He felt her presence without needing to turn his head. She slid into the seat beside him without saying a word, and he held out his arm, silently offering comfort and seeking it at the same time. Her head on his shoulder, his free hand wrapped in both of hers, they let their sorrow for their friends mingle with the relief of reunion.

The future stared them in the face. They would need to embrace it together.

#fic #30-Day Writer's Challenge #star trek enterprise #malcolm reed #hoshi sato #I will go down with this ship #moment(s) they fell in love #ent appreciation april 2025

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bibuckanniversarybingo · 2 months ago

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MASTERLIST

Once last time, thank you all for your participation in this event! We had 36 unique creations, several bingos and one blackout!

Please click through the read-more for the full list of fills.

We hope to see you all back next year!

Alternate Universe

ground control to major tom: By @thatmexisaurusrex Rated M, Buck/Tommy

Curious: By @unlifeira Rated T, Buck/Eddie

Mutual Pining

what makes you smile : Rated T, Buck/Eddie Prompts: Mutual Pining

Toys

Art by @pluralityofaxes Explicit, Buck/Taylor

Uniform

it's about time that we raise up: by @donovankinard Rated T, Buck/Tommy TW: Homophobia

Coming out

you might be the answer : by @donovankinard Rated T, Buck/Tommy TW: Homophobia

Cooking

A Great Team : by @unlifeira Rated T, Buck/Eddie

the world falls away, and it's only us by @donovankinard Rated T, Buck/Tommy

Only One Bed

Art by @pluralityofaxes Explicit, Buck/Eddie

Non Sexual Intimacy

Learned Skill by @unlifeira Rated T, Buck/Eddie

Unexpected Expectations by @jmagnabo92 Rated T, Buck/Alex Claremont Diaz

you can change right next to me by @donovankinard Rated T, Buck/Eddie

Literally Sleeping Together

Reliever by @unlifeira Rated T, Buck/Eddie

A Good Night by @jmagnabo92 Rated T, Buck/Alex Claremont Diaz

First Kiss

if I'm there (to catch you when you fall) by @unlifeira Rated T, Buck/Eddie

For the Rest of My Days by @dark-alice-lilith Rated G, Buck/Tommy

Date Night

only if it's with you by @donovankinard Rated T, Buck/Eddie

Free Square

Maverick by @theclaravoyant Rated T, Buck/Eddie/Tommy

Fathers & Sons by @unlifeira Rated G, Buck/Eddie

First Time

Art by @pluralityofaxes Mature, Buck/Tommy

Getting Together

How to Ruin Your Best Friendship: Starring Evan Buckley as Freddie Fakeman by @unlifeira Rated T, Buck/Eddie

Cockwarming

You Whisper Softly to Me by @dark-alice-lilith Rated E, Buck/Tommy

Multiple Prompts

love is patient love is kind by @donovankinard Rated T, Buck/Eddie Prompts: Flags, Community, Pride

Someone Unexpected by @dark-alice-lilith Rated G, Buck/Tommy, past Buck/Taylor Prompts: Uniform, Flags, Fire Engine, Coming Out

toeing that line, all of the time by @donovankinard Rated T, Buck/Tommy Prompts: Practice Kissing, Literally Sleeping Together, Canon Disaster, At the Station, Family Dinner, Hurt/Comfort, Bisexual Realization, Looking Back There Were Signs

come back, be here by @donovankinard Rated T, Buck/Eddie Prompts: Mutual Pining, Getting Together

Fruity Visits by @jmagnabo92 Rated T, Buck/Alex Claremont Diaz Prompts: Uniform, At the Station

Out, Proud and Happy by @dark-alice-lilith Rated T, Buck/Tommy Prompts: Gay Bar, Pride

Taste Testing in Love by @jmagnabo92 Rated T, Buck/Alex Claremont Diaz Prompts: Cooking, First Kiss

should old acquaintance be forgot by @theclaravoyant Rated T, Buck/Taylor Prompts: Non Sexual Intimacy, Literally Sleeping Together

An Easy Out by @jmagnabo92 Rated T, Buck/ Alex Claremont Diaz Prompts: Coming, Out, Family Dinner

Someone Unexpected by @dark-alice-lilith Rated G, Buck/Tommy, past Buck/Taylor Prompts: Coming Out, Uniform, Fire Engine, Flags, Pride

i know i saw a light in you by @donovankinard Rated T, Buck/Tommy Prompts: Alternate Universe, Fire Engine

not sure why it took all this time: by @donovankinard Rated T, Gen, Buck & the 118 TW: Mentions of Homphobia Prompts: Firefighter Calendar, The Q Word

Calendar of My Heart by @jmagnabo92 Rated T, Buck/Alex Claremont Diaz Prompts: Firefighter Calendar, Fire Engine

#bibuckanniversarybingo2025 #anniversary bingo 2025 masterlist #evan buckley #911 abc #evan buckley is bi

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cooperscreosote · 7 months ago

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@flashfictionfridayofficial

I think this is my longest prompt story so far, haha.

Fandom: Star Trek The Original Series Pairing: Kirk/Spock Words: 940

~~~

Spock's shuttle was drifting helplessly through the vastness of open space.

Oh, if only.

In fact there was a meteorite field all around the little spacecraft. So far the outer hull was holding out, but ever since the engine had failed and Spock had drifted into the field he could hear the constant noise of a barrage of rocks hitting the shuttle.

And that wasn't all. A brief analytical scan had showed that these meteorites contained a rare metal that made it impossible to get a fix on anyone with the transporter. It also severely influenced the communications equipment.

Seriously, how wrong could a mission possibly go? Spock knew that most humans in his situation would panic, but he was a Vulcan. He wouldn't steep so low. (He decided to conveniently forget his half-human heritage. Everything was allowed, as long as it helped him to keep his composure.)

Suddenly a beep from the console alerted him. 'Warning! The life-support system has failed. Remaining oxygen supply will last for approximately ten minutes,' came the emotionless voice from the computer.

Alright, things could always get worse. He sat down and pressed a few buttons on the console. Now there was only one thing he could still do.

---

'I don't want to hear any more excuses, Scotty! We have to rescue Mr Spock!' exclaimed Kirk sternly. 'I'm doing my best, captain, but...' 'Then you need to do more than your best, Mr Scott! Work on it!'

Kirk knew he was being a bit unfair, but after all he was beside himself with worry, so Scotty would probably understand him.

'Captain? We've got an incoming transmission from the shuttle,' said Uhura suddenly. 'What?! Put it on the main screen,' demanded Kirk.

And there he was, his first officer. The picture on the screen was grainy and the sound was crackling, but there he was. 'Mr Spock! How did you get through the jamming and-' 'There is no time to explain, captain. I did some minor adjustments to the instruments. It will cause them to be destroyed in a few minutes, but I decided that it doesn't matter. Not when the whole shuttle will soon be destroyed.' 'About that, Spock...Scotty is working on a solution. We will have you out of there very soon.' 'I fear I must object, captain. One of the meteorites hit an important part of the shuttle. The life support system failed, and the oxygen supply will run out in,' he checked the screen, 'in three more minutes.' 'What?! But Mr Spock, surely there is-' 'There is nothing you or me or Mr Scott can do, captain. I only called the Enterprise to tell you a last goodbye. Please allow me this kind of sentimentality in my final moments.' He said all of that in an entirely matter-of-factly tone, as if it didn't concern him at all. Before Kirk could get a word in, he added: 'I am aware that making a final call home to talk to one's friends and loved ones is a very human trait, or at least I heard about it. However, having seen you for one last time, captain...it makes it easier. Goodbye, captain.' 'What do you mean, goodbye? Mr Spock, I order you to return to the Enterprise! To your home...to where you belong! Is that clear?' Then the connection seemed to fade away. The picture got worse, and even though Kirk still saw Spock's lips move, he couldn't hear him anymore. 'Mr Spock! No!' He whirled around. 'Do something! Anyone! There must be something...' 'There isn't, Jim. You heard him,' said Bones. 'It's too late. The three minutes he mentioned are already over.' 'But this is just-'

In that moment the console beeped again and he heard Scotty's voice. 'Captain? Please come to the transporter room, would you? I've got a-'

He didn't even wait until the chief engineer had finished speaking, because he was out of the door in a heartbeat.

'I surpassed myself, if I dare say so,' said a voice with a Scottish accent. 'I rerouted the entire transporter system in mere minutes. Means I will have to do a lot of repair work since a lot of relays burned through, but it made the transporter beam strong enough to penetrate the meteorite field.' 'Very good, Scotty. Very good,' said another voice. It was warm and full of relief...then Spock finally realised that it was the captain's voice. But how was that possible?

He slowly opened his eyes and saw the faces of Captain Kirk and Doctor McCoy hovering over him. 'Look, he's waking up!' said Kirk and took his hand. 'Spock, are you alright?' 'I think so.' He slowly sat up and looked around. This was clearly the Enterprise's transporter room. So they must have found a way to save him. 'You brought me home, captain.' 'Well, technically it was me, but I'll let it slide just that one time,' commented Scotty with a brief laugh. Kirk smiled at him. 'Welcome home, Spock. Welcome home, my dear friend.'

Just as Spock was about to say something, the doctor shoved Kirk aside. 'Now that you welcomed him you should finally let me examine him.' 'Of course, Bones. But you surely won't mind if I stayed with him while you do that?' Kirk grabbed Spock's hand tighter and Bones sighed.

He knew these two. No force in the entire universe would get the captain to let go of his first officer's - and T'hy'la's - hand if he was like that.

'Oh, sure, go ahead. I'm used to it, after all. By god, am I used to it,' he muttered.

#flash fic friday #flash fiction friday #fanfic writing #star trek #star trek tos #spirk

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lanawinterscigarettes · 8 months ago

Note

I'm giving you a fun little challenge here from the prompts lists Aeron 🫶

Clara

Fem Reader

"tongues stained from slushies" (i am such a sucker for the the purple tongues but we only had red and blue slushies trope)

"blue raspberry bubblegum"

"a black lace bralette"

"flushed cheeks"

"pajama bottoms"

"raspberry lip gloss"

Your challenge is to fit in as many as you can - the when, where, why, how is up to you! I trust whatever it is will be amazing. No obligation as usual if you don’t like the idea :D - ⭐

okay first of all thank you so much for giving me not one, not two, but several different prompts!! the random object prompts (I'm not really sure what else to call them haha) are some of my favorites because they're so open-ended with what you could possibly come up with, meaning the creative possibilites are endless 💘 I wanted to fit every single one of these into this fic somehow and crazily enough I actually managed to. I really hope you love this as much as I do!! I'm very proud of it hehe 🥰

prompt list is here in case anyone wants to send something in <3

Night In (Clara Oswald x fem reader)

Warnings: no overt smut but there's a makeout session and suggestiveness/implied smut here, fluffy sapphic nonsense

Cozy dates with Clara were always the best, in your humble opinion. Dressing up for a movie or dinner was nice, but you preferred to stay in and binge watch cheesy romcoms instead. It felt more intimate that way, more special.

You'd both gone out for slushies earlier that evening, your tongues each stained red and blue respectively. The two of you were lounging on her bed, some kind of movie starring a really popular actress as the lead romantic love interest playing on the TV in the background.

It didn't really matter what it was. You didn't care, anyway. All of your attention was being focused solely on her.

Her jaw moved casually as she chewed on her blue raspberry bubblegum, stopping occasionally to blow a small bubble before popping it. She stopped when she noticed you staring, her cheeks flushing with slight embarrassment. "Oh, sorry. I can stop, if you want to," she sheepishly offered, referring to the gum she had in her mouth as she assumed you were only staring at her as a nonverbal way of trying to communicate that you wanted her to stop making noise.

A smile tugged at the corner of your lips at her apology, and you simply shook your head in response. "No, it's fine. I wasn't staring at you because of that, anyway."

She raised an eyebrow slightly, sitting up a bit further on the bed. Her pajama bottoms shifted with her, pulling up some as they showed off the smooth and unblemished skin of her lower legs, her calves and her ankles. It was kind of hard to look away, but you did regardless, not wanting to seem creepy as you forced your gaze to meet her eyes again. "Really? Then why were you staring?"

You reached your hand out, gently tucking a strand of hair that had fallen into her face behind her ear before you spoke. "I was staring because you're beautiful, and far more captivating than what's currently happening on the telly."

This time, her cheeks flushed so vividly they were bright red. If you put her in the center of a vegetable garden, you were quite certain she'd be mistaken for a tomato. "You're just teasing me, you don't really mean that," she insisted while taking out her gum and placing it back in the wrapper it came in, throwing it away in the trash along with your now empty cups from when you got slushies.

"I swear, I'm not. I really do think that you're beautiful," you repeated sincerely while reaching out with your hand to grab her chin, holding it gently between your forefinger and thumb so she couldn't turn away. "And I also think we should take red and blue and make purple while we're at it," you added with a mischievous grin, your tone a bit more playful.

Her entire face went from being tomato colored to fire engine red at your words, her hand moving to give you a light smack on the shoulder. "God, you can't just say that-"

It was cute getting to see her be so flustered, you had to admit. Unfortunately for her fast beating heart, your teasing wasn't quite done yet. "I also have something I wanted to show you, but I need to get you in the mood for it first."

Clara raised an eyebrow at that, picking up on the suggestiveness in your voice almost immediately. "I suppose you'd better get to it, then, yeah?" She muttered a little breathlessly while moving in closer so that her body was practically touching yours, her big brown eyes flickering up and down your form with obvious interest.

You took that as an invitation to pull her in, your lips meeting hers in a soft yet firm manner as you presented her with a gentle kiss. She gasped when your tongue brushed over her bottom lip, requesting entrance into her mouth that she gladly gave. It wasn't long before your red-and-blue tongues had each become a vibrant purple, a physical depiction of how your love for each other had changed you both in literal and metaphorical ways.

"Can I show you my surprise now?" You questioned after the two of you had finally parted, resting your foreheads against one another's as you attempted to catch your breath.

"Of course. I'd say I'm probably in the mood for it now," she quipped back with a laugh, somewhat reluctantly allowing you to pull away for her so you could present her with whatever it was you wanted to show her. Her chocolate eyes gazed at you intently as she watched you pull your shirt over your head, presenting a black lace bralette that was left behind. Of all the things she was expecting, that was certainly the last.

That didn't mean she was complaining, though. Not in the slightest.

"Oh, my..." She breathed out softly, her focus on you and you alone as she very intently stared in your direction, or more specifically the direction of where your chest was.

"So, what do you think? Do you like it?" You were a bit nervous to be showing off something so revealing, you had to admit, even if you'd both seen each other naked before.

"Oh, darling, I love it," she replied earnestly while reaching her hand out towards you, her fingertips gingerly brushing against the fabric of the black lace. She suddenly wished that her lips were on yours again, so you could cover her with kisses and leave behind more of that sticky residue from your raspberry flavored lipgloss that she loved to taste so dearly.

Before you could thank her for the compliment, that's exactly what she did, her hands finding their way to your waist as her mouth pressed against yours in a needy and passionate embrace. It wasn't very long before the two of you ended up tangled in each other's arms, the bed shaking somewhat as your bodies moved in tandem with every touch, with every kiss.

The next morning came fast, far too fast for you liking. You woke to find her wearing your bralette and you in her pajama bottoms after you'd rather cheekily suggested you swap clothes when you were redressing after a round of certain adult activities. Thank God it was the weekend, meaning you got to hold her for a bit longer than usual. You couldn't bear the days where she had to get up bright and early before rushing off to school.

As she nuzzled her face closer into your neck, you once again came to the conclusion that you much rather preferred having nights in with her. It really was much more intimate than any dinner date could ever be, and that made it all the more special in your eyes.

End notes: I wrote this super quickly which is such a treat honestly because I almost never get stuff done this fast. inspiration just struck me y'know what can I say

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