#tackle setup

[fishpro4u]

Unveiling the Allure of Bahamas Charter Fishing: Your Ultimate Guide to Angling Bliss

Photo by Mikhail Nilov on Pexels.com The turquoise waters of the Bahamas beckon, promising not just a fishing trip but an adventure of a lifetime. \In this guide, we’ll navigate the ins and outs of Bahamas charter fishing, uncovering the treasures that await anglers in this tropical paradise. Benefits of Bahamas Charter Fishing Embarking on a Bahamas charter fishing trip opens doors to a host…

[neallo]

wrote femslash meronia omegaverse ficlet on the train home, as one does,

[billdenbrough]

ok this is the closest i can manage LMAO it would be easier with screen recording availability but

matthieu jalibert & damian penaud, celebrating the penaud try enabled by the jalibert pass | france rwc 2023, fra v nzl, pool a, match one

[tavina-writes]

oh i just saw your chapter lengths excel and as someone who’s wishing they could write longer chapters, do you have any tips for how you write/outline? like how did you decide the projected word count and stuff?

Hi nonny!

I'm not entirely sure I have good suggestions for this since my chapters have always tended towards being long, and my outlining is uhhh "well, it happens?" but I do have several thoughts that might be helpful!

The thoughts got really long, so they're now under a cut!

I only really think about the projected length as a benchmark, based on how "big" a story idea I think I have. For the fic that you're referring to, I knew that it was a setup I really enjoyed (arranged marriage) and that it would cover a number of years (so stuff has to happen in those years), and I thought it would work better in a four act structure (in the beginning) so I thought like "oh it'll probably be four chapters with 10k per chapter, so that'll be a 40k fic!"

As things progressed this obviously became not the case given the absolutely giant status of the chapters and the fact that three act structure worked a lot better with where I saw the ending going so there's four parts in each "act" as it were hence 12 chapters. (Originally I was going to do a fairly long epilogue type situation focused on Xichen and Ningning's descendants in "act four" but I've since yeet that into the sun bc I didn't like it lol.)

I adjust the projected length based on having finished chapters since my chapters tend to be pretty evenly split length wise (give or take a few thousand words), so since the first act was ~90k it's probably going to be closer to 270k than 250k but I'm currently in denial about that bit lmao, so really! after you have the first couple chapters, and you have a forecast of how many chapters it's going to take, projecting a project length is fairly simple math to do!

Okay that said, how do I actually project/outline/do the writing process? This is complicated because I'm very much a chaos writer who uh, doesn't write in order and doesn't finish scenes and doesn't start scenes at the beginning or finish at the end (I tend to write scenes in thirds or parts and then stitch them together so, that's the state of affairs here lolsob. I don't think that helps anyone very much.)

BUT: I find it really really helps to have goals, sometimes multiple per scene and to check back on those after I think the scene's done. The goals can be:

plot related -> introduce character A, introduce motivations for character A, provide a transition from setting A to setting B, further the conflict between character A and character B, etc

character emotion related -> establishing that Character A has changed since a previous scene, Character B introspection, filling in background on why Character A or B believes x or y or acts in a certain way

details and research related -> this for me is generally related to time period, setting, time of day, time of year, what the characters are physically doing in each scene and how they're oriented in relation to each other, etc which I find really important to like, decreasing white room syndrome and grounding the characters in a real place as they talk or fight or have a sad cry in the bath or whatever, so after the plot and character emotion related goals are through I also check like "hey is his bathtub floating in some undisclosed location or?"

So basically I "outline" by breaking each chapter down into "okay: where do I want all the characters and their various subplots to be by the end of the chapter vs the start of the chapter?" and I go backwards and fill in all the scenes I think would make sense to get characters from A to D or however, and then after I do that (or tbh as I'm writing) I shove in more scenes that explain how characters get from like, A.5 to A.7 which I didn't initially think needed explaining and back and forth until A->D has been achieved. This also means (for me and how I write) normally if all the other chapters have been 21-24k and I "finish" a chapter that's only 19k I've dropped a plot point somewhere and need to go back and spackle it back in.

Another really helpful longfic tackling thing that I have going on is where I keep a "notes" or "character index" document where I periodically update with like: new OCs and their details, new setting details, that one nice source I found about incense burners, the music I was listening to for x or y vibe, my meta thoughts about how or why a certain character might be acting a certain way...etc etc.

For example, my most recently completed novella-length fic (after court, returning to different doors; 39k) had this as its original "outline"

Then, after I got a fair ways into that I made a new set of notes about what I wanted to achieve based on what was going on with the scenes I'd written and what I still needed to fill in:

and then while I was writing the mountain ghost thing I stopped to type this down about WZL:

And then I filled in the situation at the Yunmeng Discussion Conference with Hints Of A Past, etc.

Basically I think your outlining should be whatever you think will help you remember what goes where, and it's really helpful to have goals about what you want to get done every chapter rather than "I need x amount of words per chapter." Some fics want long chapters! some fic want short chapters! some fics are long! some are short!

[rafent]

“rafal? do you have a moment to talk?”

the door closes behind her with a soft click! as dorothea steps into the room, eyes immediately drawn to a now-empty bed off to the side. 

one of three weasels down.

“i see you’re settling back in.” she slides a small bowl onto the rickety nightstand - a tropical sundae of some kind, by the looks of it. "with all the wrappers you left behind, i thought you might enjoy another sweet treat after your week away."

a wrapper-less one. clean up after yourself this time, lord raffy.

"while i’ve got you… i've been thinking about future plans. if you'll indulge me." she’d failed on her part—a poor performance during opening week. inexcusable and something that needed to be remedied promptly. disappointment is bitten back and swallowed down, for all hope is not lost yet ; if years at the opera have taught her anything, it's that audiences love a good underdog.

the songstress sinks onto her mattress with a soft sigh.

“there’s only so much we can control, but with what we can… i think we should work together to make the most of our odds." a pause while she searches his expression. "they expect us to put on a good show, but a show's success depends on the entire cast, and not a singular role. i think we'll achieve more if we find a way to collaborate. what do you say?"

Time for a son of dragons would be a resource always in plenitude. Even so, crimson eyes lit up in pleased understanding at the offering. White and gold swirl, a delectable icy treat simply waiting to be conquered. Had Dorothea failed to seize his attention before, his look expressed that she had certainly done so now.

"Your generosity and attention to detail is without peer. Speak your mind, Dorothea. Of moments, this dragon has many." Sweetness on the tongue and bitter regret in the air, with Rafal to divvy his reserve of attention between both, his spoon pressed into the creamy bowl and preceded each bite. Dorothea's troubles could not be mistaken and the mentioned odds beyond control were beyond clear.

Thoughts briefly wandered to shared surroundings. By courtesy of recent elimination, their lodgings had been reduced in company. Rafal could not claim to know the one known as Zihark in any particular capacity, but still the absence of a roommate was felt. As was the void produced by an even louder absence, beyond even this room. Unusually, what was once acceptable now suddenly conveyed to him as tasteless. The golden mango streaks inlaid into pristine white vanilla sorely reminiscent of the colors worn by another, as if mirror to one Solmic sun no longer among them. His half-empty bowl surrendered, Rafal set it down in a mark of finality. Appetite dwindled. Some silent decision made final.

"I believe I have said it before, Dorothea. That if you should find yourself in trouble, you had someone to call upon." Both recent and faraway was that conversation from a week prior, so much passed between then and now. He slid the reminder across their short distance, unsmiling as the grave. "If that trouble comes now, and you believe our success will be bolstered by collaboration, then I will lend you aid in whatever form is needed. And if an actor is needed. . ."

Because what had been Nil if not the wolf in sheepskin? What was Rafal if not a lie that breathed and became truth? Perhaps there was use for those footsteps of the past to walk forward. "—you will find that I do not disappoint."

[antirepurp]

in a perfect world i'd have the patience to figure out a way to make the pupils all ^^ and >< but im gonna be real with you chief i'll have such limited use for that stuff that it's straight up easier to edit that onto renders than create new toggles and fuck with shaders

[hot-patootiee]

All fluff, omg so much tooth rotting fluff. You will get cavities from reading.

On A03

Their relationship was tentative at best.

Eddie had made out with a bruised Steve Harrington after he and Billy got into a fight. Eddie had looked at his lips for a second too long to be fully heterosexual and BAM! Kissing. (No Eddie wouldn’t tell him this was his first kiss.)

The details Eddie got were hazy at best, but Steve’s concussion could be the cause of the vague details.

It’s not like they were necessarily close. Emotionally, not physically.

Eddie sometimes worried that Steve’s queerness was something that would soon be blamed on the concussion.

But faithfully, every day, Eddie received a scrap of paper with either the location of a bathroom or empty classroom.

He’d go there, mildly expecting being jumped for being queer, but instead Steve would jump out at him and press him against the closest wall. He’d pull up on the underside of Eddie’s thighs and sometimes sit him on the sinks or the empty desks.

Eddie almost felt like Steve’s girlfriend. He had heard whispers about how he’d meet women in bathrooms for a little midday makeout session.

They obviously couldn’t be seen in public, but in their private spaces, Steve would nose along Eddie’s neck. Breathing him in and tasting him like it was all he wanted.

It was enough to give a guy mixed signals.

Steve was like king jock (not anymore, but still) guys like that didn’t engage in actual meaningful homosexual affairs.

It wasn’t until Eddie was given a time and date, accompanied by the location Skull Rock.

He was again suspicious, like any queer in a small town.

He nearly shat himself when he was tackled by a laughing Steve Harrington. They rolled over a few times on the leafy ground. Eddie’s panic rapidly faded into awkward laughter as he noticed there was nobody else.

“Heya Teddie!” Steve laughed out, a distinct tinge to his voice as he tried out the new nickname on his tongue.

“Heya Stevie!” Eddie mocked, finally laughing in earnest.

“Sorry we can’t meet in public. Kinda kills me that I can’t show you off.” Steve was nosing along Eddie’s neck, seeming most at home tucked as closely to Eddie as possible.

“Yea.” Eddie replied in a stringy tone, suddenly breathless at the implication of Steve’s words.

“I got this ready for us instead.” Steve gestured towards skull rock, but Eddie couldn’t see it yet. He had to wait until Steve was done peppering kisses up the side of Eddie’s face. Eddie’s face scrunched, a little ticklish at Steve’s quick kisses.

When Steve pulled away, Eddie was released of Steve’s weight, allowing him to look at what Steve had previously been gesturing to.

And oh my goodness.

What sat at the base of skull rock was a picnic. There was a plaid patterned blanket, little throw pillows, fucking candles, and a goddamn rose in a little vase.

So maybe Eddie had missed a few obvious signals that he and Steve were dating. But holy shit, even in his best dreams it was some guy in a dingy bar or an alley. He had never even allowed himself to imagine being dated.

It was a strange and new idea that Eddie found himself quickly falling in love with.

“Thought four months was long enough without an actual date.” Steve laughed self consciously, evidently nervous at his mistake.

“Nah, it’s no problem.” Eddie shrugs, unable to tear his eyes away from the FUCKING PICNIC BASKET.

Steve pulls Eddie up off the ground and guides him over to sit on a little strawberry printed throw pillow. It’s so goddamn sickly sweet that Eddie feels warmth pulse in his chest. His face was hot and red as he got a closer look at the setup.

There were little sandwiches, cut into precise triangles. They didn’t even look store bought!

He could see a little thermos and strawberries peeking out of the basket.

Instead of wine or any sort of booze, there was a large pitcher filled with apple juice.

Steve finally sat himself down too, right next to Eddie, letting their thighs press together.

Steve pulled the food from the basket. Unloaded carefully cut apple slices and grapes.

“Seedless.” Steve clarified. Eddie was suddenly struck with how closely Steve had been paying attention to him. His childish preference for seedless being carried with a sort of intimacy he wasn’t used to.

Eddie couldn’t help it. He kissed Steve, who was in the middle of still unloading the basket. The thermos he was holding clattered to the ground as Steve quickly hiked his leg over Eddie’s and pushed Eddie down onto the blanket.

A sudden snap interrupted the moment, making Eddie tense. But Steve just stroked his cheekbone gently.

“It’s okay!” Steve comforted, before kissing Eddie again.

Steve’s refusal to pull away struck Eddie like a knife. His chest felt so tender, like his heart was visible and the gravity of such a small gesture sunk into his bones.

Even when they stopped kissing, Eddie couldn’t bring himself to let go of Steve. He met Eddie’s inability to let go with a laugh and pulled him up with him, leaning back slightly to extract the small sandwiches.

Steve turned back and Eddie’s eyes were full of tears.

“What’s wrong?” Steve probed, but Eddie couldn’t speak. He choked, unable to talk as tears began to carve rivers down his cheeks.

Eddie was crying, and his chest was heaving without his consent as he buried his face in Steve’s shoulder.

Half formed words choked out from Eddie’s throat. Each emerging wet and unrecognizable from their original intent. In the absence of words, Eddie shook his head, hard, attempting to indicate that there was nothing wrong.

“Are you okay?” Steve questioned, his hands coming back to Eddie’s face and trying to wipe away his tears. His calloused hands rubbed over Eddie’s cheeks gently. It was an awkward angle as Eddie’s face was still half buried in the side of Steve’s neck.

Eddie couldn’t help, but cry harder. He had never dreamed of feeling so revered and cared for that all the warmth was bubbling up from his chest and spilling out of him.

Eddie is nodding through the tears, but Steve still doesn’t seem fully convinced. He just rubs Eddie’s back as his crying putters out.

“ ‘m sorry. It’s just really nice.” Eddie finally manages to choke out. “Never thought I’d get this.”

And Steve’s heart just breaks a little at his words. He was just dating Eddie how he’d date anyone else. Concocting intimate dates to really get to know someone. Stolen moments during the day when scheduling won’t allow contact.

Steve hadn’t known that just because Eddie was a man, it’d be different.

He’d tried to make this date a little extra special to make up for his inability to take Eddie to a diner or movie theater. But he didn’t expect this response.

When they trade kisses during the date, it still mildly tastes like salt. As they eat, it changes, the salt gives way to strawberry and chocolate.

.❤️❤️❤️.

I swear even completely out people still flinch away when someone comes in the room. Like holy shit, you are a lesbian and everyone knows, why tf do we have to jump away from each other when someone comes near.

[frailsituation]

Tips for building immersive plots

1. Start with your core idea

• Every plot begins with a spark—a question, a concept, or a character. Build from that seed.

• How? Ask, "What excites me about this story?" and focus your energy there.

• Example: A story about a magical curse could explore themes of redemption or betrayal.

2. Brainstorm freely

• Don’t start by thinking about structure. Instead, write down every idea you have—plot points, character traits, world details—without judgment.

• How? Use mind maps, lists, or “what if” questions to expand your ideas.

• Example: “What if two rival kingdoms were forced to unite to stop a shared enemy?”

3. Map out key events

• Divide your plot into beginning, middle, and end, and identify major turning points. These events should shape the character’s journey.

• How? Use the three-act structure, or simply think in terms of setup, confrontation, and resolution.

• Example:

Beginning: A thief steals a sacred artifact.

Middle: The artifact begins to curse them, forcing them to seek help.

End: They must choose between keeping the artifact’s power or destroying it.

4. Plan with cause and effect

• Immersive plots follow logical progression. Ask yourself: “What happens because of this event?” for every key moment.

• How? Make sure each event impacts the characters or world.

• Example: A hero saves a village → the village leader reveals a secret about the hero’s past → this drives the hero to confront their estranged parent.

5. Flesh out your subplots

• Subplots add depth and make your world feel real. Tie them to the main plot for maximum impact.

• How? Use subplots to explore secondary characters, add emotional stakes, or introduce twists.

• Example: While on a mission to defeat a villain, the hero struggles to repair their broken friendship with their ally.

6. use story beats to stay organized

• Break your story into smaller moments: inciting incident, midpoint twist, climax, resolution.

• How? Write one sentence for each beat to outline the flow of your story.

• Example:

Inciting incident: A cursed item bonds to the protagonist.

Midpoint: They discover the curse is tied to a powerful enemy.

Climax: They must sacrifice their freedom to destroy the curse.

7. Think of immersive twists

• Twists keep readers engaged and make your story unforgettable. They should feel earned, not random.

• How? Ask, "What would surprise the reader but make sense in hindsight?"

• Example: The mentor helping the hero turns out to have caused the conflict in the first place.

8. Build emotional stakes

• Plot isn’t just about events—it’s about how those events affect your characters. The stakes should feel deeply personal.

• How? Tie the plot to your protagonist’s fears, desires, and growth.

• Example: A hero who’s afraid of failure is forced to lead a mission where the cost of failure is catastrophic.

9. Create a planning routine

• Writing immersive plots takes time and refinement. Set aside regular sessions to brainstorm, refine, and test your ideas.

• How? Use tools like storyboarding, sticky notes, or apps like Scrivener to organize your ideas.

• Example: Start each session by reviewing your previous notes, then tackle one section of your plot.

10. Test your plot

• Once you’ve mapped out your story, summarize it to see if it holds together. Does each event flow logically? Are the stakes clear?

• How? Share your outline with a friend or writer’s group for feedback.

• Example: “A reluctant hero must destroy a magical artifact to save their world, but doing so will cost them their memories.”

Follow for more!

[lynxgriffin]

Eldritchrune - Pathetic House

Story Setup Eldritchrune Masterpost

Back in the light world, the empire is still causing trouble for Hometown, and Undyne tries to stand up to it! She instead has an unexpected run-in with Alphys, and gets a reminder of past mistakes...

Yaaay, finally got another comic out! I wanted to tackle a scene that was a bit shorter and simpler, and check in on some more of Hometown's residents! What might happen to them when Kris gets back is anyone's guess!...

Alt text for this comic is under the read more:

Page 1

Panel 1 - Full body shot of a Hometown resident - the little goblin character dancing in the rain, but now presented as a human with poofy hair and a small hat. They happily splash around in a muddy puddle around one of Hometown’s streets, kicking up water. 

Panel 2 - Inset panel as the teen is startled out of their splashing, eyes wide, with a sudden yell from off-panel: “HEY!”

Panel 3 - They turn around fast to see Undyne approaching them. She’s a tall human with her red hair tied back, dressed in boots, a sensible work skirt and vest, and arm guards. She strides purposefully towards the teen.

Panel 4 - Over-the-shoulder shot of Undyne as she looks down at the teen. They pull their hands together, looking a little nervous. “O-officer Undyne! I was just having a bit of fun here… Good rain last night…”

Panel 5 - Mid shot of Undyne as she raises up a hand reassuringly, and says, “Hey, you’re not in trouble! But that rain’s flooded some of the torn up road here…you’re gonna twist an ankle!”

Panel 6 - Undyne kneels down more to the teen’s level and points ahead. She says, “Just head up to the town square. It’s safer to jump around there.” The rain-loving teen immediately dashes off in the direction she points. “Oh great! Thanks, Undyne!” They say, waving at her.

Panel 7 - Small closeup panel as Undyne watches them go, smiling…

Panel 8 - Her smile then vanishes as she hears a THUNK sound from offscreen. She glances to her left with an annoyed expression.

Page 2

Panel 1 - She turns and looks at the source of the sound. Undyne stands in the foreground, while ahead, two empire solders dressed in armor are facing an old, dilapidated house with a broken window. An old skeleton of a large tree looms nearby. One of the soldiers laughs and throws a rock at the old house.

Panel 2 - Closer shot of the two soldiers, still both laughing. Another one, the larger of the two, holds up another rock…

Panel 3 - And throws it at the house again. It knocks off the old building’s side with a loud THUNK!

Panel 4 - Closeup on Undyne as she yells angrily at them: “HEY!!”

Panel 5 - Wide shot as Undyne marches purposefully towards the two soldiers. The scene is framed by overgrown grasses and shrubbery. “What do you think you’re doing?!” she says as she strides towards them.

The larger soldier replies, “What concern is it of yours?” Panel 6 - Undyne holds out one hand towards the old house, still annoyed. “Hometown is *my* jurisdiction, and you’re bothering the Ghost Cousins! So yeah, *my* concern!”

Panel 7 - Medium shot of the larger soldier, who just looks back at Undyne. “‘Ghost Cousins’?” he says, incredulous.

Page 3 

Panel 1 - A mostly empty panel, except for Undyne, who holds up one finger to explain. “Yeah, Nap Spook, Mettle Tom, and Mad Muse! They all died years ago, and this house is *their* spot. It’s rude to pester him!”

In the background are images of the three ghosts she’s mentioned: Nap Spook, a light blue ghost with curly hair that looks withdrawn and sleepy. Mettle Tom, who resembles Mettaton, with their fancy clothes and hair flip. However, here they don’t have their usual bombastic flair, and appear more withdrawn. The last one, Mad Muse, appears as a more furious poltergeist, with flaming hair. 

Panel 2 - Medium shot of the two empire soldiers. The skinnier one leans into the larger, and says to him, “Angel, they were right…these folks are *so* superstitious.”

The larger soldier addresses Undyne: “You lot believe in haunted houses?”

Panel 3 - Undyne faces the two soldiers as the larger one waves to him. “Well, we’re going to take care of this one for you.”

“What?!” Undyne says, not liking where this is going.

Panel 4 - Upshot of the old ghost house. It’s looking pretty unkempt and worn down, with the old tree looming overhead. Offscreen, the soldier says, “This dilapidated old place needs to be torn down. It’s taking up space that could go to much better use.”

Panel 5 - Medium shot of Undyne as she gestures angrily back at the house. “The Ghost Cousins have a right to *their* house!” she says, insistent. 

Page 4

Panel 1 - Medium shot as Undyne faces down the two soldiers, all three of them framed by the haunted house in the background. “You empire jerks think you can just show up and push us around?! This town is my home, and my charge!” she says, pointing a finger in the face of the closest soldier. “I’m not gonna let you tell *us* how we should use our own land!”

Panel 2 - Medium shot of the two soldiers, neither of which seem worried by her threat. The skinny one holds up his hands in mock worry, and says, “Oooh, such a big, *scary* threat from the backwater guard!”

The larger one grins and says, “A direct request from the Knight to your Mayor should be sufficient to get this place demolished.”

Panel 3 - Undyne doesn’t seem impressed by the threat either. She sneers back at them, “Need your stupid boss to tell you *how* to push us around?”

Panel 4 - Full body shot of the three still standing in front of the ghost house. “Tch…should’ve expected that from creeps like *you*,” she says, still pointing.

The larger soldier raises an arm to hold back the thinner one from moving forward, looking aggravated. The soldier says, “Unlike superstitious bumpkins like you, the Knight knows how to properly *run* things. How to keep this country in order.”

Page 5

Panel 1 - Single shot of the larger soldier, who continues with a sneer: “And we’ll *all* be better off once your backwater town realizes that and starts *contributing* to the empire.”

Panel 2 - Closeup shot on Undyne as she narrows her eyes and grimaces. This definitely pissed her off.

Panel 3 - Undyne gets up in the soldier’s face, clearly raring for a fight. “How about your big, holy Knight comes down here, and I’ll *contribute* a few good punches to their face!” The soldier stands stalwart against her threat.

Panel 4 - Even though Undyne is close in on him, he just smiles at this suggestion. “Ha! You, actually fight the *Knight*? I’d like to see you try!”

Panel 5 - Medium shot as Undyne spins on her heel and begins to march off as the two soldiers look on. “Then how ‘bout I drag them down here for you to see!” she says, and turns to go and do just that–

Panel 6 - Only to suddenly run head-on into Alphys coming in from the other direction. The soldiers watch as the two collide, sending Alphys’ books and papers flying–

Panel 7 - Alphys and Undyne both fall to the ground from the force of the sudden impact, and land in the mud with a splash. Alphys’ papers scatter everywhere.

Page 6

Panel 1 - Medium shot of the two soldiers as they burst into uproarious laughter. The thinner one slaps his knee, and the larger one throws his head back to guffaw at the two of them.

Panel 2 - Alphys and Undyne are still trying to collect themselves in the mud as the two soldiers walk past them and head back towards town. While the thinner one keeps laughing, the larger one ways to them and says, “Good luck with that, bumpkin!”

Panel 3 - Undyne quickly stands up in the foreground, while below her, Alphys quickly scrambles to get to her feet and pick up her dropped books and papers. There’s mud all over her coat. “O-ohmygosh, I’m s-SO sorry, Undyne! I didn’t see you there…” she stammers.

Panel 4 - Wider shot as Undyne helps Alphys retrieve her dropped papers. “Ngggah, it’s fine. I just can’t stand those weasely empire creeps,” she says, glaring in the direction where the soldiers disappeared. 

Alphys sadly agrees, “T-they really won’t l-leave us alone, huh…”

Panel 5 - The two are now fully back on their feet. Undyne hands the remaining lost books and papers over to Alphys, who takes them back into her arms. “T-T-thanks, Undyne!” she says, blushing noticeably. 

Panel 6 - Over-the-shoulder shot of Alphys as she holds tight onto her books. Ahead of her, Undyne reaches behind her head and offers an awkward smile back. “Yeah, it’s…no big deal,” she says.

Page 7

Panel 1 - Wide shot of Alphys and Undyne standing by the ghost house. It still seems forgotten and dilapidated in the background, but the two are now focused on each other. “So, what’re you up to by the ghost house, anyway?” Undyne asks.

Alphys replies, “Oh, I-I just wanted a bit of moody reading atmosphere!”

Panel 2 - Medium shot of Alphys as she holds out one of her books, admiring the title. “I got a new fantasy story, a-and I’m excited to give it a read…”

Panel 3 - Medium shot of Undyne as she smiles, and gestures towards Alphys’ book. “Nice that you got the time to dig into it right away!”

Panel 4 - Alphys’ face drops a little, and she hugs the books to her again. “W-well, I haven’t had as many kids to tutor these days.”

Panel 5 - Shot of the two women standing together, although Alphys is now turned away, lost in an upsetting thought. “Usually on Tuesdays, I gave Kris some tutoring, b-but…they ran off last fall, so…” At the name, Undyne suddenly starts. 

Panel 6 - Focus on Undyne as she looks away, her expression guilty and perhaps regretful. In the background in grayscale, there is a memory of Toriel and Asgore sacrificing Kris to the demon prince…Undyne was also present, wearing a fish mask.

Page 8 

Panel 1 - Closeup on Alphys as she continues: “I-I can’t imagine them r-running out on the Dreemurrs! Especially Azzy! So…m-maybe it was m-me…they j-just got so sick of how I taught things, t-they had to escape it…” Alphys looks sad and self-depreciating, somehow only thinking of how this might be her fault.

Panel 2 - Medium shot as Undyne puts a reassuring hand on Alphys’ shoulder, causing Alphys to look back up at her. “Hey, don’t talk like that! I don’t think that would’ve been it…” Undyne says.

Panel 3 - “I’m sure your teaching is great!” Undyne says, and tries to give her an encouraging smile.

Panel 4 - Alphys looks up at her with admiration, taking her encouragement to heart. “G-gosh, that’s nice of you to say! And uh…”

Panel 5 - “Whatever those soldier creeps might’ve said to you, I k-know *you’re* a better peacekeeper than they’ll ever be!” Alphys continues in a wide shot of the two. Undyne keeps her hand on Alphys’ shoulder. 

Panel 6 - Closeup on Undyne’s unsure expression…unlike Alphys, she can’t really take the encouragement to heart. With what she’s participated in, she doesn’t know how good of a peacekeeper she really is now.

Page 9

Panel 1 - Still, Undyne is determined to put on a good face for this woman who’s clearly pining for her. In a medium shot, she gestures to herself with a big smile. “At least for this town, I’m gonna do whatever I can!” Alphys looks up at her with admiration and fondness.

Panel 2 - Wide shot of the ghost house, old tree and surrounding mud-speckled road. Undyne leads Alphys away from town, and more towards the gloomy old forests surrounding them. “And for you, let’s find you that perfect mood spot!” she says. 

[rose24207]

AHHH..!

Summary: Lando panics mid-stream over his girlfriend’s scream, only to find she’s overreacting to a horror game.

Genre: humor, fluff

TW: None!

A/N: ignore the title…. English is not my first language. I hope you enjoy it though! Requests are open and welcome!

Masterlist pt.2

Lando leaned back in his chair, his headset snug over his ears, as he focused on the intense F1 simulator race he was playing live on Twitch. Thousands of fans flooded the chat, spamming emojis and cheering him on. His tongue poked out slightly as he braked late into a sharp corner, his face scrunched in concentration.

“Alright, alright,” he muttered, glancing at the mini-map. “P1 is mine—just need to nail this next sector.”

The chat exploded with messages.

"Focus, Lando!”

“Y/N would be beating you right now!”

“Y/N is streaming too, isn’t she?”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Yeah, I saw her go live before me. She’s probably off building another ridiculous castle in Minecraft or something. You guys know she gets way too into that stuff.”

Unbeknownst to him, you weren’t playing Minecraft. You had decided—for reasons you were already regretting—to tackle a survival horror game that was known for its relentless jump scares.

As Lando passed the final sector, his victory within reach, a blood-curdling scream pierced the air.

It wasn’t just any scream—it was your scream. High-pitched, panicked, and filled with the kind of terror usually reserved for an actual emergency.

“WHAT THE—” Lando flinched violently, his hands jerking the wheel as his car spun out. “Y/N?” His heart leapt into his throat as he ripped off his headset, his wide eyes darting toward the direction of your gaming setup in the next room.

The chat went into an immediate frenzy.

"WHAT WAS THAT!?”

“That sounded like Y/N!”

“BRO, GO CHECK ON HER!”

“SHE’S SCREAMING LIKE SHE’S BEING MURDERED OMG.”

“Hold on, hold on,” Lando muttered, fumbling to mute his mic. He shot out of his chair, his wheels spinning with a loud clatter as it hit the wall behind him. He bolted toward your room, heart pounding, as every worst-case scenario ran through his head.

Meanwhile, in your stream, chaos reigned.

“Oh my God, oh my God, NO!” you shrieked, your voice breaking slightly as your in-game character crouched in a dark hallway. You clutched your mouse tightly, your other hand hovering over the keyboard, ready to hit the escape key at any moment. “WHERE IS IT? WHY IS IT SO QUIET?!”

Your chat was absolutely loving it.

“This is why you don’t play horror games!”

“Headphone users are DEAD.”

“LMAO she’s about to quit.”

The silence in the game dragged on for a moment longer, heightening your nerves. You inched forward cautiously, your character’s flashlight flickering ominously.

And then, without warning, the grotesque creature you’d been dreading lunged at the screen with an ear-shattering roar.

“AAAAHHHHH!” you screamed again, throwing your hands into the air as your chair shot backward, slamming into the wall. Your headphones slid off your head and dangled around your neck as you scrambled to get away from the desk, heart racing.

“NOPE! I’M DONE! I’M DONE!” you yelled, your voice cracking as you practically launched yourself onto the couch in the corner of the room.

That’s when Lando burst into the room, his face pale and panicked. “Y/N?! What happened? Are you okay?”

You screamed again out of fright before you looked up at him from the couch, still clutching your chest. “Lando! Oh my God, you scared me!”

“I scared you?” He blinked, his gaze darting around the room. His eyes landed on your paused game, the horrifying creature frozen mid-attack on the screen. Slowly, his face twisted into a mix of confusion and disbelief. “Wait…was that scream because of… that?”

“YES!” you shouted, gesturing wildly toward the screen. “Look at it! It jumped out of nowhere!”

He stared at the screen again, squinting. “Are you serious? It’s just a…a thing with teeth! That’s not even scary!”

“Not scary? NOT SCARY?! It’s terrifying!” you exclaimed, still catching your breath. “I thought I was gonna die, Lando. Like, my soul left my body for a second.”

His lips twitched, and before you could say anything else, he burst out laughing. “Your soul—oh my God, Y/N. You screamed like someone broke into the house!”

“Well, it felt like someone did!” you retorted, your voice still a little shaky.

Both of your streams had caught up by now, and your respective chats were absolutely losing it.

“LMFAO HE BARGED IN LIKE A HERO!”

“Her scream broke the sound barrier.”

“Why is this the funniest thing ever?”

Lando walked over to your desk and leaned in toward your mic, grinning. “Chat, I need you to confirm—did she actually scream that loud over this thing?” He pointed at the screen dramatically. “Be honest.”

“Stop embarrassing me!” you groaned, grabbing a pillow and tossing it at him. He caught it effortlessly, smirking.

“Oh, you’re never living this down,” he teased, sitting down in your chair and swiveling toward you. “You just gave your stream—and mine, for that matter—the greatest moment of the night.”

You buried your face in your hands. “I hate you sometimes.”

“No, you don’t,” he said confidently, leaning back. “You love me. And besides, I’m your knight in shining armor. I came running when I heard you screaming for help.”

“Yeah, and then immediately started making fun of me,” you shot back, crossing your arms.

“That’s just my way of calming you down.” He shrugged innocently before turning to look at your paused game again. “Alright, let’s finish it together. I’ll keep you safe from all the big, scary monsters.”

You groaned, but a small smile crept onto your face. “Fine. But if you scream, I’m never letting you live it down.”

“Deal,” he said, smirking. “But trust me, I don’t scream.”

Fifteen minutes later, after another brutal jumpscare, Lando let out a high-pitched yell that could probably rival yours. And you? You made sure both of your streams—and all the clips—had proof.

Thank you for reading!

Taglist: @ipushhimback, @ladyoflynx, @lewishamiltonismybf, @cmleitora, @hmma3 , @same1995, @amatswimming, @llando4norris

[dckweed]

tiktok made me do it!gf vs tf141 bf

You had it coming.

After weeks—months, even—of pure chaos, unhinged pranks, and emotionally distressing text messages, your boyfriend and the rest of Task Force 141 finally decided it was time for payback.

And when they team up against you?

Yeah. You're fucked.

Captain Price – "hate all of you"

You were getting ready for bed, hair up, pajama shorts on, about to relax after another beautiful day of causing chaos.

Then—

A crash downstairs.

You freeze.

Your heart stops.

Your phone is across the room, out of reach. The only thing you have? A baseball bat by the door.

You tiptoe toward the hallway, bat in hand, when you hear it—

Heavy footsteps. A low, gruff voice muttering, "Spread out."

You panic.

No hesitation. No thinking.

Just action.

The moment a shadow rounds the corner, you let out a battle cry and SWING—

BANG!

“FUCKIN' HELL, SWEETHEART—"

John hits the floor. Hard.

You stand over him, panting, bat raised, fully prepared to cave his head in until—

"SURPRISE! PRANK, BABY, PRANK—"

Soap, Gaz, and Ghost leap out of hiding, dying with laughter.

You stare, still panting. "I hate all of you."

Price groans, clutching his definitely bruised ribs. "Jesus fuckin’ Christ, love. When the hell did you get so quick?"

You glare. "When you taught me to take out a target before they take me out, John."

Soap, wiping tears: "Taught this one right, sir, she did it so well!"

Ghost, nodding approvingly with Johnny’s thought. "Genuinely impressed."

You flip them off and stomp away.

Price groans again. "Right, lesson learned. Don’t fuck with the missus." The boys help him up off the floor, snickering when he grabs his ribs and winces.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick – "baby it’s me!"

Gaz thought he was so fucking smart.

Late at night. Dimly lit street. You walking back from your friend’s place.

The perfect setup.

Soap and Ghost wait nearby, cameras rolling, as Gaz sprints toward you from behind, gloved hand reaching for your arm.

Then—

CRACK!

Gaz eats a fucking fist to the jaw.

He stumbles back, eyes wide, a "holy fuck—" leaving his lips.

But you’re not done.

You grab his wrist, pivot, and slam him against the nearest wall.

Gaz groans. "BABY, IT’S ME—"

You freeze.

Blink.

"Kyle?"

"YES."

You look up—Soap and Ghost, cackling their fucking lungs out, recording everything.

"What. The. FUCK." You shove him for good measure.

Kyle, still dazed: "Okay, maybe—ow—maybe we took this too far—"

Footsteps come shuffling out of the shadows, his partners in crime showing themselves. "SHE FUCKIN’ ONE-PUNCHED YOU, BRO."

Ghost drops a meaty arm around your shoulders, you state up at him as he squeezes you like he’s a proud father despite the glare on your face. "Respectfully, I think she owns the competition now, you’re a deadman, Gaz."

You storm off. "I hate you all."

Gaz just leans against the wall, rubbing his jaw. "I think I saw God for a second."

Simon "Ghost" Riley – “live this life now"

Ghost doesn’t scare easily.

But when you scream like you’re about to commit a murder, he flinches.

Which is a problem, considering he was the one trying to scare you.

It had been perfectly planned—dimmed lights, a low growl in the dark, creeping footsteps…

Then?

BAM.

You launch yourself at him, tackling the motherfucker to the floor.

Your knee slams into his gut.

Your elbow connects with his face.

Ghost groans. "Bloody hell, love—"

"STAY DOWN, FUCKER—"

"IT'S ME—"

"I KNOW IT’S YOU, SIMON, BUT I LIVE THIS LIFE NOW—"

Soap and Gaz start to die laughing in the background, recording all of it. You growl in anger, vowing silently to get them all back.

Ghost grumbles, rubbing his side. "Jesus, you fight like me, love."

You glare. "You taught me this shit."

Soap, wheezing as he clutched the back of your couch. "Bro, she fucking bodied you—"

Ghost, sighing as he brings himself upright. "Yeah, yeah. Next time, I’m taking the piss outta her."

You roll your eyes. "Just wait till you let your guard down."

Ghost suddenly regrets everything.

Johnny "Soap" MacTavish – "kicked me in the soul"

Soap’s plan? Simple.

Hide in your closet.

Wait for you to walk by.

Jump out.

Scare you.

Have the boys film it, visiting under guise of watching a football match.

Easy, right?

Fucking wrong.

Because the moment he jumps out, screaming—

BAM.

You scream right back and kick him in the fucking balls.

Soap collapses.

Like a fucking ragdoll.

His entire life force leaves his body.

Soap wheezes in pain, clutching himself tightly. "AGH—FUCK—"

"WHAT THE FUCK, JOHNNY?"

"WHAT THE FUCK, ME?? YOU FUCKING KICKED ME IN THE SOUL."

Meanwhile, outside the doorway Gaz and Ghost are FUCKING DYING.

"YOU KICKED HIM IN THE NUTS??" He had the phone in hand, his only job,

Ghost was bent over, hands on knees laughing at his friend, his only job to stop you if things went too far. "I CAN’T BREATHE."

Soap groans, curled into the fetal position. "Babe, why—"

You cross your arms. "Serves you right, dumbass."

"I THINK I SAW JESUS."

Moral of the Story:

TF141 thought they were getting revenge.

Instead?

They just got their asses kicked.

And now?

They sleep with one eye open.

[missconchshell]

I loved this new episode of Miraculous! Oh my gosh, I didn't even realize it was coming out, but I'm so happy it did!

I've never been too too attached to either Marc or Nathaniel, but this episode really won me over! It was neat getting to see both of their parents, and show just how much of a difference unconditional support can make. It really reminded of just how lucky I am that my own parents are so accepting.

I also love the contrast in the setting as well, with Nathaniel's family physically further apart, while Marc and his parents are all bunched together on the same couch. I feel like the show has been putting in a lot more care into framing and the setup of scenes this season, and I'm all for it!

Also, this is one of the first times I've seen their new designs up close, and I'm a huge fan! Love all the little details, like Marc's eye makeup, Nathaniel's self-painted shoes and his wavy little hairclip. Just look at the happy boy!

Now, onto the meat of the episode. Nathaniel's passions (and by association himself) being rejected by his parents did get me to tear up. It hurt and felt so real, I'm amazed to see this sorta thing in a show like Miraculous.

I felt so bad watching him destroy his work and try and force himself to conform to his parents' expectations. It was a very realistic picture of this type of struggle, and is definitely something I and I'm sure many others have struggled with before. And I was shocked at how blunt the writers got with the implied homophobia with lines from his mom about making Nathaniel "go straight."

Then once it got onto the mom being named Ruler, I just kinda started laughing, like, oh, they weren't gonna be subtle at all!

And dang Lila, willing to even use homophobia to get those miraculous. Tsk tsk.

The Akuma's power was definitely pretty creepy, like I hate these eyes so much, but Lila got really dang close to getting those miraculous this time, far more than any of Gabe's minion-based akumas! And despite this being the billionth time Chat Noir's been controlled, the physicality of the animation and voice acting did a decent job of making it funny.

It was also neat that the Akuma's powers got to be used against them, with Nathaniel finally stepping forth and taking back control from his mother (side note: I loved his transformation literally having him come out of the closet, the animators knew exactly what they were doing).

I know I've ignored them most of the episode, but I will say that Marinette and Adrien were adorable as usual! And I love that he feels comfortable enough with her to tease!

Then there was the ending. I'm so glad Nathaniel's parents came to accept his love of comics (and Marc). It was a sweet moment of acceptance that not everyone is lucky enough to have, so I'm glad we at least got a happy ending here.

I also really appreciate that little serious moment at the very end. I was expecting more Lila dialogue when the ominous music started playing, but having a serious moment where they discuss how they're attacked simply living their lives was a sad but pleasant surprise. It's cool that they're acknowledging a reality that so many people face every day. But I'm so glad these boys have each other in this!

And even if I know for a fact that the identity reveal is going to blow up in their faces one day based on the show's history, it still was so adorable and I loved the scene! Just the joy on each of their faces, knowing they're not alone, was so sweet!

Overall, I'm just really impressed with the writers this season! They're tackling a lot more serious topics in these one-off episodes, and honestly doing it far better than I ever expected from this silly love-square show. So many of these stories have resonated with me, and it's been really neat getting to see so much representation of different struggles. And it's especially cool to think about how these episodes could meaningfully impact the show's younger audience as well! These are the sorts of things I wish I saw more of growing up, it would have changed little miss shell's world for the better. So, keep up the good work Miraculous Team!

[riddlesrizzler]

Tackled at the Tailgate

summary: Who knew tailgates could be romantic? characters: frat bro! mattheo. sweetheart! reader. frat boy! slytherin boys warnings: mentions of alcohol word count: 1.7k

By the time the morning light spilled across the lawn of Sigma Nu, the world had already shifted.

Sunlight broke through the clouds in soft golden beams, casting a honeyed glow over the dew-slick grass, which shimmered like it had been kissed by stardust overnight. The entire street pulsed with an undercurrent of excitement-a barely-contained buzz in the air, like the seconds before a storm breaks, only this storm smelled like beer, cheap cologne, fresh-cut grass, and something distinctly electric.

Banners flapped in the breeze, fraying slightly at the edges, their bold letters spray-painted in colors that had long since faded from too many seasons of tailgate glory. Empty cans rattled down sidewalks like windblown tumbleweeds, pushed by the same breeze that carried the bass thrum of music into the sky. The Sigma Nu snake, regal and coiled, stared down from every flagpole and cooler with a smug kind of pride-an unspoken dare to any other frat who thought they could compete.

Mattheo Riddle stood at the edge of it all-silent, composed, watchful. His broad shoulders tensed beneath a charcoal gray hoodie already dusted with grass stains and pollen, the sleeves pushed up to his elbows, exposing strong forearms inked with memories and mischief. He sipped slowly from a red Solo cup, watching pledges scurry with folding tables and speaker cords like ants desperate to impress their queen.

He didn’t speak often during tailgate setup, but when he did, his voice cut through the chaos like a blade.

“If that table wobbles,” he called, not even looking up from his drink, “and she spills anything-you're walking home from this tailgate.”

They knew exactly who she was.

And then-like a scene written by fate-she arrived.

Her glitter-dusted Jeep pulled up in a swirl of sunlight and dust, the engine humming like the opening chord of a favorite song. She stepped out like the universe had slowed down to watch. Cooler in one hand, sunglasses perched on the tip of her nose, a cropped Alpha Delta Pi jersey tied at the waist, and white sneakers so clean they glowed. A dainty gold necklace glinted at her collarbone, catching the light with every step she took.

The Sweetheart of Sigma Nu.

The crowd shifted as if pulled by her gravity. A few girls waved, a few boys tripped over themselves trying to offer help, and one pledge abandoned an entire stack of plates just to grab her cooler. She moved through it all like she was born for this moment-composed, radiant, the kind of beautiful that didn’t feel real unless you were lucky enough to see it in motion.

Mattheo’s smirk betrayed him before his words could. He didn’t move to greet her. He didn’t need to. She was already walking toward him.

“Morning, Sweetheart,” a voice called.

“Morning, boys,” she replied, her laugh dancing through the air like wind chimes.

She passed Mattheo with a sideways glance and the ghost of a smirk-one he knew was meant only for him. And when she winked, like a secret shared across a battlefield of red cups and dented coolers, something settled in his chest. Something heavy. Something familiar.

By noon, the party was in full bloom. The Sigma Nu lawn had become a tapestry of noise and motion and color. Cornhole bags flew lazily through the air, music spilled from truck beds and balconies, and someone had tied gold streamers to the backs of barstools just because it looked festive. The air smelled like sunscreen, hot dogs, and something that would become nostalgic in later years.

The porch was a patchwork of peeling paint and sun-faded frat pillows, but she made it look like a throne.

Tucked into the corner of a battered couch, legs folded beneath her like a cat in the sun, she had Mattheo’s Sigma Nu hoodie wrapped loosely around her shoulders-its sleeves pushed up to reveal delicate wrists stacked with beaded bracelets and a faint smear of glitter along her forearm. Her cheeks were flushed with heat and laughter, eyes half-lidded behind oversized sunglasses as she sipped lazily from a half-empty Solo cup.

The chaos of the tailgate buzzed around her-music pulsing from the lawn, someone yelling about a lost frisbee, Blaise singing off-key into a broomstick-but she sat above it all, untouched and glowing. Like she belonged to a slower, sweeter world tucked just out of reach.

Mattheo returned from the grill, balancing a paper plate in one hand, condensation dripping from a cold can of Sprite in the other.

“Figured you’d forget to eat,” he said, holding out the plate.

On it: a cheeseburger-perfectly seared, still steaming, bun slightly smushed at the edges-and a handful of chips with no napkin in sight.

She blinked up at him, lips parted in surprise. “Wait… did you just voluntarily bring me food?”

“I know,” he said, deadpan. “Call the Pope.”

She laughed as she scooted over, patting the seat beside her with the heel of her palm. “Did you make it?”

“Watched it cook. That’s close enough.”

He dropped down beside her, his thigh brushing hers. The couch groaned under his weight, the springs protesting like they knew exactly what kind of tension they were holding.

She peeled back the foil all the way, the smell hitting her immediately-grilled onions, melty cheese, that warm toasted-bread comfort. Her stomach growled audibly.

Mattheo smirked. “Told you.”

“Fine,” she said, breaking the burger in half and handing him a piece. “You can stay.”

“Lucky me.”

They ate in companionable silence for a moment, the kind that only came with familiarity-the kind built on midnight study sessions, long walks back from parties, and whispered confessions on rooftops no one else knew how to find.

She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, laughing when Mattheo offered the corner of his sleeve.

“Gross,” she said, but used it anyway.

“I’m a man of many talents,” he murmured.

“Apparently. Grill master. Sleeve provider. Sweetheart handler.”

His expression softened, gaze dipping to her lips before he quickly looked away. “I don’t handle you. That would be impossible.”

She smiled down at the burger like it was suddenly the most interesting thing on earth. “You’d be surprised.”

A gust of wind tugged at the streamers tied to the porch rail. She shivered, more from the weight of the moment than the breeze, and instinctively curled closer to him. The hoodie smelled like him-cologne and soap and bonfire smoke, earthy and warm and unmistakably him.

He leaned back, arm stretched lazily across the back of the couch, fingers barely grazing her shoulder.

“You always show up like that,” he said suddenly.

“Like what?”

“Like a goddamn movie scene. That Jeep rolling up. That laugh. The sunglasses. The glitter.” He turned his head slightly, eyes finding hers. “You wreck the whole party in three seconds flat.”

She didn’t answer right away. She couldn’t.

Instead, she looked down at her half-eaten burger, heart thudding against her ribs like it wanted out.

“I never know what to say when you talk like that,” she whispered.

“You don’t have to say anything,” he replied, just as soft. “You’re already the best part of my day.”

The game played on somewhere in the background, Theo screaming at the radio, Blaise doing a keg stand for no reason other than the crowd had started to chant his name. Enzo ran laps around the lawn with a Sigma Nu flag billowing behind him like he was leading a charge into war.

But on the porch, time folded in.

And for a moment, it was just them. Sharing a burger on a broken couch, wrapped in sun and shadows and something that felt dangerously close to forever.

But Mattheo stayed seated, eyes on her.

Until the football came flying.

It landed with a soft thud beside her sneakers, rolling to a stop like it knew it had found the most important person on the lawn.

“Oh no,” she said, holding her drink like it was fine china. “Absolutely not.”

“You’re playing,” Theo shouted. “House rule!”

“I bruise like a peach,” she argued, already laughing.

“Two-hand touch!” Blaise yelled back. “We’re not monsters!”

“Let me guess,” she said, standing. “If I’m playing, Mattheo is too?”

Mattheo arched a brow and drained the rest of his drink. “Obviously.”

The teams formed quickly, lines drawn in the grass with crushed cup borders and sun-faded frat shirts.

Mattheo stood behind her as quarterback, fingers brushing her waist to guide her forward.

“Run left,” he whispered near her ear, his breath warm against her skin. “I’ll find you.”

She shivered. Not from cold.

The game was glorious chaos-wild laughter, tangled limbs, and the kind of fake competitiveness that comes from people who know each other too well. She juked left, then right, her laughter ringing out every time someone missed a tag. Her cheeks flushed with sunlight and adrenaline, her eyes bright and wild.

Then she ran straight into Mattheo’s arms.

He caught her easily, one hand around her waist, the other bracing her fall. They tumbled into the grass like a moment suspended in amber-time slowing as they landed in a mess of limbs and breathlessness.

She was beneath him, wide-eyed, laughing. Grass tangled in her hair. The sun turning her into a painting.

“Did I win?” she breathed.

He smirked, leaning over her, weight balanced on his elbows. “You always do.”

She stared up at him, and for one long moment, the party faded-voices distant, the world blurry around the edges.

He brushed a blade of grass from her cheek.

“Do you ever think,” he murmured, “we’re just… meant to end up in moments like this?”

Her breath caught. “You mean sweaty, grass-stained, and slightly concussed?”

He laughed, soft and full. “Something like that.”

The cheers called them back-Theo yelling about penalties, someone screaming about a pizza delivery.

Mattheo stood and offered her his hand.

She took it.

Their fingers threaded together, instinctive now.

As he pulled her to her feet, their laughter trailing behind them like confetti in the wind, neither of them noticed the way the sun dipped lower, casting everything in a golden haze.

It had started as just another tailgate.

But the way he looked at her-like she was a secret only he knew, like she was already his and just didn’t realize it yet-told a different story.

One that wasn’t finished.

One that was only just beginning.

[libingan]

— tf141 calling you “ma’am.”

no smut, only fluff

JOHN PRICE

you’re preparing for a cozy movie night and have a specific vision in mind. you turn to john with a list of tasks. “john, could you move that armchair closer to the middle? i want to make sure we get enough light for our movie marathon,” you instruct.

john flashes a playful grin and replies, “yes, ma’am.” he lifts the armchair with ease, carefully positioning it just where you want it. he checks it from different angles to ensure it’s perfect, making sure the light hits just right. once he’s satisfied, he looks over with a smile. “what’s next, ma’am?”

you direct him to arrange the snacks. “the popcorn goes on the left side of the table, and the chips on the right. make it look inviting,” you say. john nods, his focus clearly on creating the perfect setup. “on it, ma’am,” he says, arranging each item with meticulous care.

after setting up the snacks, you notice the pillows on the couch look a bit out of place. “can you fluff these pillows a bit more? i want them to look just right,” you request. john chuckles softly and responds, “absolutely, ma’am,” as he fluffs each pillow to perfection. he checks and re-checks their placement, making sure they’re exactly how you like them.

as you think of more details to perfect the evening, you ask him to adjust the drinks. “the drinks need to be kept on one side, can you do that ?” john adjusts the drinks with a practiced hand, saying, “yes, ma’am.”

by the time you’re done with all the adjustments, john has followed your directions to the letter. his willingness to accommodate your every request highlights his affection and dedication to making the evening special for you.

KYLE “GAZ” GARRICK

you’re preparing for a shopping trip and have gathered a large number of items. you turn to kyle with a stack of bags and hand him the first one. “kyle, can you hold onto this for me?” you ask, passing him the first bag.

“yes, ma’am,” kyle replies with a grin, taking the bag from you. as you continue to collect more items, you hand him another. “and this one too, please.”

kyle shifts the bags to balance them better and responds, “yes, ma’am,” taking the new item with ease. you keep adding more bags, and each time, kyle responds with a cheerful “yes, ma’am,” as he adjusts his hold.

after a while, you’ve accumulated quite a stack of bags and packages. you hand him a few more smaller items, each time asking him to hold onto them. “i’ve got a few more things,” you say, handing over the last items.

“yes, ma’am,” kyle says, adjusting his grip to accommodate the new load. despite the growing pile of bags, he maintains a good-natured demeanor. “anything else you need me to carry, ma’am?” he asks with a smile. his readiness to help shows his enjoyment in being of service to you.

JOHN “SOAP” MACTAVISH

you’ve caught johnny leaving dirty dishes around the kitchen and decide it’s time for a chat. “johnny, we need to talk about cleaning up after yourself,” you say, trying to keep it light-hearted.

johnny looks a bit sheepish but responds with a nod. “aye, alright, ma’am,” he says, picking up a plate and heading to the sink. he starts rinsing off the remnants of his meal, scrubbing the plate with a determined focus.

as he works, you continue the conversation. “you know, johnny, leaving dishes everywhere makes more work for everyone.” johnny nods, scrubbing away. “aye, i ken, ma’am,” he replies, giving the plate a final rinse before moving on to the next one.

you notice a few utensils left behind. “don’t forget to wash the utensils too,” you remind him. johnny looks up with a grin and says, “aye, i’ll get tae it, ma’am,” as he tackles the utensils with the same thoroughness.

once he’s done with the dishes, you point out some crumbs on the counter. “and don’t forget to wipe down the counters,” you add. johnny grabs a cloth and starts cleaning, his tone still light-hearted. “got it, ma’am,” he replies as he meticulously wipes down every surface.

as he finishes up, you mention the floor needs sweeping. “the floor needs to be swept too,” you say. johnny grabs the broom and starts sweeping. “anything else ye need, ma’am?” he asks with a playful tone, clearly taking your instructions to heart while maintaining a light-hearted approach.

SIMON “GHOST” RILEY

you’re relaxing on the couch, lost in a book, when simon quietly enters the room with a tray. “i thought you might need this, ma’am,” he says softly, setting down a steaming cup of tea on the coffee table next to you.

you take a sip and smile, feeling the warmth of the tea. “this is perfect, simon. thank you,” you say, feeling content. simon sits down beside you, his presence comforting. “how’s the tea, ma’am?” he asks, his tone gentle and caring.

“it’s exactly what i needed,” you reply. simon’s eyes light up, clearly pleased with his little gesture. “is there anything else you need, ma’am?” he asks, eager to ensure your comfort.

if you mention needing a blanket, simon immediately gets up, retrieves it, and drapes it over you. “here you go, ma’am,” he says, adjusting it to make sure you’re snug. if you ask for anything else, such as adjusting the lighting or fetching a remote, simon is quick to respond.

“just let me know if there’s anything else, ma’am,” he says each time, his voice filled with genuine attentiveness. whether it’s adjusting the room temperature or fetching a book, he shows his dedication to ensuring you’re completely comfortable.

[missbluez]

Flour,Sugar and Something More.... Pt.1/5

Firefighter!König (COD) x Fem!Plus Size Reader

Ao3

Part 2

You let out a long sigh after you finish with the last few boxes. Moving is always a hellish experience, but you’re glad you are finally done.  You glance at the clock on the kitchen wall, it reads ten twenty-two. It’s kind of late, you hadn’t really noticed as you were occupied building up the last few pieces of your furniture. You probably owe your neighbour an apology.

The building you moved into is a small one, considering the buildings surrounding it. There are two apartments on your floor, yours and your neighbour's, that you have yet to meet. But as you get ready for bed, you start thinking about what would be a good way to introduce yourself as well as apologise for the disturbance to your elusive neighbour. Your grandma’s lemon shortbread cookies should be a nice enough apology slash introduction gift. 

You close your eyes with a bitter smile, You miss her. Your grandma would have definitely made a whole thing of baking for your entire building. She always said that good neighbours can make living in a bad place a good experience.

After her passing, you just couldn’t keep on living in her house, with too many memories haunting you every day. So you put the house on the market and packed up your things. You didn’t expect that you’d end up in London, of all places, but you have always been captivated by the big city, and your grandmother was the last thing tying you to the small town you grew up in.

Your favourite playlist plays softly in the background while you start mixing the dry ingredients with your butter and sugar mixture. The smell of lemon zest drifts through your apartment.

  “I’d rather take my whiskey neeeeat…”

You sing as you gently sway with the music, your hands gathering the dough, making a uniform ball. You place it on the counter as you start looking for the rolling pin. You know it’s in one of the drawers, you remember placing it there a couple of days ago, you just have to get used to the new kitchen setup.

“Aha!” you exclaim with a grin when you find it. You roll out the dough and place it in a tray to let it chill in the fridge for a couple of hours as per your grandma’s instructions. It might seem like an unnecessary step, but it gives the cookies a much better texture, so you never skip it. You can never bring yourself to change any of your grandma’s recipes.

While the dough chills, you decide to tackle the mess in your closet. You had prioritised building your furniture and cleaning the apartment, so a grand majority of your clothes were still in your suitcases or in various bags. Since spring just started, you place all your spring-appropriate clothing in the easier-to-access shelves of your new closet. By the time you finish with all your clothes, you still have an hour before you have to continue with the cookies, so you decide to make a quick lunch. 

After eating, it doesn’t take you long to cut the cookies into different shapes. While they’re baking, you make a quick icing that you dye a soft yellow. For the first time since your grandma passed, you feel at peace. With the funeral and then the move, you hadn’t had the chance to bake. It’s something that always relaxes you, You loved baking for your friends and family, well, now you don’t have anyone to bake for. Your friends are thousands of miles away, and what family you have left, you’d rather not speak to ever again.

Changing your music to something more upbeat, you start glazing the cookies after they cool, you are quite satisfied with how they look, and you hope your neighbour likes them. You save a few for yourself and then package the rest for your neighbour, topping the package with a cute yellow bow. You initially wanted to write a little note, but you barely know anything about your neighbour, you only know that only one person is living in the apartment. That’s the only information that the couple renting you the unit could tell you, and after a week, you still had to see who that person was. So you settle for writing the ingredients you used in case they had any allergies.

At around three in the afternoon, you walk out of your apartment and knock on the door across from yours. Even though you wait for a couple of minutes, there’s no answer. You go back to your apartment and decide to try later, they could be working for all you know. Just because you weren’t at the moment didn’t mean they were free as well.

Even though your grandmother had left you with enough to live comfortably for a while without worrying, you still had decided to look for a job before you moved. You were a freelance translator back home, but you found a position in an export company and decided to take it since it allowed you to work from home as well as from an office. You would be starting next week since you asked for some time to get settled in the city.

You entertain yourself for a couple of hours watching a few movies. By the time you look at your phone, you realise it’s nine p.m. It might be a bit late to go to your neighbour’s unannounced, but you wanted to give them the cookies when they are the freshest, so you just make sure you look presentable and march on towards their door.

You don’t know why, but you’re kind of surprised when the door is yanked open, blue eyes staring at you. It seems like he is glaring, but his gaze softens as soon as it lands on you, and for a split second, he looks surprised, but he quickly schools his expression. His hair is brown and short, it looks like a buzzcut that’s slowly growing out. You nervously clear your throat as you push the box towards him.

“Uhm…I’m your new neighbour..” you say, giving him your name “ I wanted to introduce myself as well as apologise for all the noise and…yeah you know moves and furniture and all that…” you felt yourself getting flustered under his stare, you didn’t expect such an attractive man to be your neighbour. You try not to ogle him, he is much taller than you, his body all sharp angles and muscles, for a second, your mind runs from you imagining those rippling muscles against the softness of your body. You don’t pay much attention to men like him usually, it brings some hurtful memories from back home, you quickly shake yourself from such thoughts, your eyes back on his face. His blue eyes seem to sparkle even under the shitty hallway lights. He hasn’t said anything, so you feel compelled to fill the awkward silence.

“These are…lemon shortbread cookies…yeah, hope you like them..and sorry again. I’ll leave now,” you say, avoiding his eyes before quickly making your way back into your apartment. Before you manage to close the door, you hear him calling back to you. You peek your head out, and he’s still standing there.

-

“Thank you…And I’m König, w-welcome to the building.” That’s the only thing he says before he walks back into his apartment and closes the door. For some reason, there’s a stupid little smile on your face as you close your door.

It’s been a week, and you haven’t seen much of König since you introduced yourself. You ran into him when you were collecting the mail yesterday, but he was talking on the phone, so an awkward wave is all you managed as a greeting. You would normally have been satisfied after giving him the cookies, but you can’t help but be intrigued by him.

Just as you're thinking about what to make for lunch, there’s a knock at your door. You aren’t expecting anyone, but you quickly make sure you look decent. You are wearing black biker shorts and an oversized shirt, something comfortable to lounge around the apartment. 

A few seconds after the knock, you open the door, It’s König.

“Oh, hey there.” You greet him with a small smile, he looks at you for a few seconds with something akin to nervousness. It feels sort of unnatural that a man like him, who looks so imposing, appears to be nervous in front of someone like you,

“Um…I wanted to thank you again…for the cookies. They were amazing,” he says with a slightly awkward smile, “Uhm.. do you… I´m making some family recipes for lunch, and I was wondering if you would like to join me?” He asks, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt while attempting to keep eye contact with you. It’s the most you have heard him say, you even notice that he has a slight German accent.

Seeing such a burly man flustered after inviting you over for lunch is kind of adorable. You have tried not to keep admiring his gorgeous face and his muscular build. Still, you can’t help it, you are not a small girl by any means, and you are completely aware of that, but after years of struggling with image issues, you have finally come to accept yourself exactly as you are, with a quiet confidence in the way you now hold yourself. But as you stand in front of König, it’s the first time since you were a child that you feel completely dwarfed; you normally feel hyperaware of your size, especially in front of someone you find attractive. It’s a completely foreign feeling.

“Of course! I would love to join you,” you say, smiling. You haven’t been in the city for long, but you already know that making friends here is going to be quite difficult, so you are ecstatic at the prospect of spending time with and getting to know König. “ I even have something for dessert, made a tres leches cake earlier”

You add excitedly.

“Okay, great. Just grab whatever you need and come over, Ja? I’ll leave the door open for you.” He replies with a less nervous tone. He seems surprised at your immediate assent, but he quickly flashes you a shy smile. You nod understandingly before he walks back towards his apartment.

It doesn’t take you long to grab the few things you need, You decide that your keys and your phone are probably the only things you need to grab before you walk towards the fridge. You open it and carefully grab the glass dish containing the cake.

In the few minutes that you are alone in your apartment, you try your hardest not to blush at the thought of being alone with König at his apartment, he is just being nice to his new neighbour. At best, you might end up being friends with him, still you can’t control the butterflies in your stomach as you leave your apartment and walk across the hall. You definitely have to get those traitorous feelings under control before you end up embarrassing yourself in front of the most gorgeous man you have ever seen.

The door to his apartment is slightly ajar, your hands are occupied with the cake, so you just push it open with your knee. 

“Hey, it’s me…”

You say as you slowly walk in, you know he basically told you to just walk in, but you still felt the need to announce your presence. A mere couple of seconds later, you see him walk into the hallway you are awkwardly standing in. Your mind almost short-circuits on you when you see the pink frilly apron he is wearing, it’s a bit too small for his big body, but it should be illegal to look this attractive in something like that. He notices immediately where you are looking, and a furious blush settles on his gorgeous face.

“I’m the designated cook at the station, and the guys thought it would be funny to gift me this," he says, gesturing at the apron. You just nod with a smile, trying to hold in your laugh.

“Well, joke’s on them. It looks great on you.”  You reply as you walk further into his apartment. The layout is similar to yours, but his choice in decor has a much darker colour palette than yours. You definitely like the stark contrast between the two of you, his deep forest green kitchen against your light blue one, the sharp angles of his body against the softness of your curves. You shake yourself from those thoughts before they go deeper, you have to remind yourself that this is a nice lunch between neighbours and not a date.

“Station? So, are you police or… a firefighter?” You ask as you set the cake down on the counter, trying to guide your thoughts to a more normal string of thoughts.

“Oh, ja, I’m a firefighter. In station 141, it’s the one next to the police station, a few kilometres from here,” he says with a nod. 

“I think I have walked past it, that’s an awesome job though. I’m just a boring translator,” You say, which makes him huff a laugh. 

“That’s also a great job, I’m sure you help a lot of people. What languages do you know then?” He asks, looking away from you, to stir the pot that’s on the stove

“Well, the job I have gotten recently only requires French. But I also speak Arabic and Spanish. You speak German, right? I wish I did” You reply as you watch him turn off the stove.

“Yes, I’m from Austria, so it’s my native language. I made some traditional dishes, I hope you like them.” König says with a hint of a shy smile, you can see the tip of his ears turning pink, you find it so endearing, you can’t help but smile back. Despite his size and how attractive you find him, you can’t help but feel at ease in his presence. Which seldom happens to you, you always feel anxious whenever you are close to anyone. That bubbling warm feeling in your stomach just grows as you watch him, you have a really good feeling about him, and you can’t wait to see where this goes.

That wasn’t the last time you joined König for lunch or dinner. It sort of became a regular thing for the two of you. His schedule was kind of hectic with being a firefighter and all, but due to your own more relaxed work hours, these meetings weren’t rare. You hardly ever went for more than a couple of days without seeing him at least once. You really enjoyed your time together, but it isn’t doing any good to your ever-growing crush on him. That’s why you could barely hide your disappointment when König messages you cancelling on you for the third time this week. You understand that he has to work, and what he does is really important, but you can’t help but be saddened by the fact that you won’t see him today either. Along with the message, he sent you a selfie of himself, and god, he looks absolutely stunning, even with the slight pout he has on his face, showing you his distaste at having to skip your “date” because of work.

You have even purchased all the ingredients to make a new dessert for him to try, but you’d have to leave it for another day. You love all the positive reactions your baking gets you from him. The praise only makes the feelings for him grow stronger.

You mope around your apartment for a couple of hours, trying to busy yourself with work and various household chores. When you begin making yourself lunch, you start thinking about it. You want to make the dessert you had in mind for your lunch with König, and just take it to him, hopefully it will cheer him up a bit, he has said to you in a couple of messages that he hasn’t been feeling great these past few days. But maybe showing up to the station in the middle of the day is way too much, despite how close you have gotten in the last few weeks. You could always make them and wait until he’s back home in the morning, but for some reason, you feel a stronge urge to see him right away. So, with a sudden bout of confidence, you get started on the eclairs you wanted to make for him, and since you're going to be taking them to the station, you end up making a bigger batch just in case he ends up wanting to share with his colleagues.

It takes you a little less than two hours to finish them. You can feel a slight blush creep up on your face as you package them. Some of that previous self-doubt back, but it’s a bit too late to back out now, you are already dressed and ready to go, you have even sent a message to König letting him know that you’ll stop by the station, you haven’t gotten an answer which means he’s probably busy. You’ll probably be in and out in a few minutes anyway. But at least you hope that he is there so you can get to see him.

Even though the sun shines brightly outside, you take your umbrella with you, remembering that when you checked the forecast earlier this morning, it called for a light evening drizzle, and you definitely don’t want to deal with getting your hair wet. It’s a bit difficult balancing everything in your hands, but you make it to the station without dropping anything. You stand outside, a bit nervous. There are a couple of people cleaning one of the trucks, the big garage-like door open, letting you have a good look at the inside of the station. You don’t see König as you look around, you wait anxiously for a few seconds, but you end up deciding to approach someone else. 

“Hello, excuse me…” You start as you look at the tall man turning around to face you. Now that you can see his face better, you recognise him from a picture in König’s apartment.

“Oh, ‘ello there. Can I help you?” He replies with a bright smile, his eyebrows slightly raised as he looks at you.

“Mmm, yes. Is König here?” you ask, your heartbeat quickening as you say his name. You can feel how everyone else present turns to look at you at the mention of their colleague, which only makes you more nervous.

“He is.” It’s the only thing he says as he stares at you. At first, you’re confused as you blink owlishly at him, waiting for him to continue. When he doesn’t add anything else, is when you realise he is teasing you. 

“Can you call him then?” You ask with your brows furrowed.

“Of course, love,” he says with a grin before looking back “Oi, Soap! Tell König someone’s here to see him,” he yells back, to someone inside the station that you can’t quite see.

Barely a minute later, you see him walk out, and you can swear that you feel your heart stop, it’s the first time you see him wearing his uniform, and God, he looks downright sinful in it. You barely register him saying your name as he approaches you, it’s when he is standing right in front of you that you snap back.

“Hey, I-I don’t know if you got my message…but I… I felt bad we couldn’t get together today, and I made you this…so… yeah…”  You say, looking at him nervously, not knowing how to explain without sounding weird.

“I’m so glad to see you, and I’m sorry for cancelling on you so much lately, Schatz,”  he says as he wraps his arms around your side, hugging you before pulling away and taking the wrapped dish from you. You can feel how everyone is looking at you both, and you try your hardest not to focus on their stares as you tell König about the eclairs you made.

 “That’s very sweet of you. I will make sure to share with everyone, Ja? “ He says with a smile – one of those smiles that he casually throws your way, completely unaware of the effect they have on you –  so you just nod, any words you wanted to say now stuck in your throat.

Before he has the chance to say anything else, a loud siren cuts him off.

“Scheiße”, he curses under his breath as he looks at his colleagues who are rushing to get ready for the call. You can see the apologetic look on his face when he looks back at you. “ I’m really sorry. I will make it up to you, I promise,” He says as he leaves a quick peck on your cheek. You freeze in your spot as you watch him leave, seemingly unaware of the gesture. You both have been getting more comfortable with physical affection, but nothing past hugs has ever happened. 

You can hear your blood rushing, your face flushing as your heartbeat quickens, the spot on your cheek his lips touched feels like it’s on fire. 

He must have meant it in a friendly manner, you think. There is no way your feelings are requited. But as you watch the firetruck drive away, you let yourself believe in that possibility.

Part 2