#amy loves puzzles

[legendary-guest]

Thinking about how Monkey Fist and DNAmy got to where they got to in the show. Special thanks to @danglovely's post about the subject for helping connect the dots and turning the gears in my head. More than a professional relationship, as stated. Here's my take. It's long!

The step to alter Monty Fiske's hands and feet was years in the making. Searching for someone who would do something so experimental and insane took a lot of time, all the while hiding his growing obsession and madness from the public and academic colleagues alike. When he finally found Amy, it was a huge relief, and he was overcome with so much joy, with genuine appreciation.

Amy, recently exiled from the scientific community, was greatly flattered by Monty's sheer enthusiasm and willingness to be altered. He knew exactly what he wanted and was so knowledgeable about primates. In fact, he knew a lot about her and her research. Really, it was more of a collaboration. No one at the scientific institutes ever wanted to collaborate with Amy, on her projects and fields of expertise. O, Lord Fiske….

Amy calls the procedure radical genetic mutation in the episode Partners. Aspects of fanon think it's surgery. Just wanted to address this here before continuing. The infamous hobbling scene from the movie Misery (spoilers + grievous, non-bloody violence, if that matters) is how I imagine the preparation for this 'procedure' went. Monty is conscious, he wants to be awake for every step of the transformation, to really feel it, experience it, to remember it. He fairly yells Amy's praises as she does this. (Yes, I would love to think she says, "God, I love you." just as Annie does in the movie. Unaware that she has even said it, perhaps. He doesn't hear it over his screaming).

You know what, Monty might even be the one yelling "I love you!" - that's way funnier. Yes, let's keep that. Yes, you are right to think this is analogous to another activity, dear reader.

Surgery, genetic mutation, whatever happens, he's lucid for it and endures it very well. Amy takes care of him, dotes on him. He's such a good patient, so polite. Always saying please and thank you. He never swears, not even when he's in immense pain. A real, proper gentleman. O, and the way he looks at her with his striking blue eyes and his heavy, British (simian?) brow giving him this air of mystery. Smiling at her all the time, talking about how grateful and happy he is, how she is fulfilling his lifelong dream. The poor woman is about to faint herself! His British accent and eloquence don't help either!

They continue to get to know each other during his recovery. Amy has him do basic physical tests and exercises to get used to his new appendages. She continues to be impressed by his knowledge of primate anatomy. They practically finish each other's sentences on the matter. A lot of bashful turning away and tender smiles between them.

Amy feels comfortable enough to share her Cuddle Buddy collection with him. She's somewhere between shy and enthusiastic when introducing him to it. He's said all these nice things, to her, about her, and he's so educated and goes on so many grand adventures. Her collecting hobby, her passion, seems silly in comparison.

Let's throw this in here - I reckon he holds her hand with his monkey hand. That's sweet. He smiles at her.

Monty calls one of her Cuddle Buddies cute. Amy knows she's in-love with him now. She also knows the way he looks at her isn't just politeness for politeness' sake…

Lord Fiske is utterly elated, on Cloud Nine the entire time he's staying with Amy. Her cooking is good, her abode is well-kept, she is hospitable, she's intelligent and interested in what he has to say and knows so much herself. It's…comfortable, here. Though, he knows, this is all just the icing on the cake. The first step to his ultimate goal has been made. He allows himself to enjoy it wholly, savour it.

Finally, they part, exchanging good-byes. It's a little sad, they've both enjoyed their time together (for different, or perhaps, not all that different, reasons).

Ever the gentleman, Lord Fiske takes one of Amy's hands in his (simian) one, and kisses it gently. A proper good-bye. Amy is stunned. He takes his leave with a smile and a nod.

Amy cannot stop thinking about him. At all. Even when that really handsome teacher came around, with that gangly teen and his pet naked mole rat. And then Kimmie! Ugh, her lab…well. At least she has Monty to think about.

She still can't stop thinking about him when that cute (and charming) Dr. Drakken (though, not a doctor, he is very intelligent, he's definitely been to college, at least) comes along and asks to collaborate. O, he's so sweet. He thinks she can't see him smile when she's not looking directly at him. He should smile more often! Though, that green lady, his not girlfriend, seems to enjoy hovering around him a lot…. When he gets down on one knee and looks the most vulnerable and smitten she's seen him in their short time together, she knows what she must do. He handled it better than she thought he would, even when he screamed his sidekick's name (not girlfriend) as if he were in mortal danger.

Monkey Fist finds his thoughts straying from his destiny, every now and again. Back to Amy Hall. Back to her home. Back to the dinners they shared. Holding her hand, so small in his now…. It wouldn't hurt to incorporate her into some of his ritual praying. No, not at all. And why not? After all, she'd helped him in such a big way! He could have never become Monkey Fist without her. What a curious thing to think about. He finds himself burning a lot of incense and reverently holding her picture (which he printed off of the official Cuddle Buddy Fan Club website; professionally, of course) over the months.

Unable to bear being apart from the one she loves, and who she knows loves her, too, Amy makes contact with him. Probably whilst Monkey Fist is in the middle of some plan, so she is sure to catch him at a terrible time. She didn't call, she didn't send a letter, or even an e-mail, she just showed up.

Monkey Fist doesn't know what to think when she starts blathering on about how much she has missed him (well, it's not like he didn't also - NO, NO HE DIDN'T MISS HER!), and about monkeys, and the surgery, and Cuddle Buddies, and true love - true love? She can't be serious….

"O, Monty!" she cries, before flinging herself into his arms, holding him tight (was she always this strong? She did help him about, but this was ridiculous!), causing him to stumble back. Heck, maybe they even fall to the ground, her on top of him. (Thank you, romance tropes. Hope someone enjoys this).

He doesn't have time for this! He shoves her off, maybe a little more harshly than he intended, but she doesn't seem to be put off by it. In fact, she just keeps smiling at him, and batting her eyelashes! What's gotten into her? She didn't act anything like this when he was staying with her!

More of this nonsense occurs, I reckon. She's even found him in weird places, like in the middle of Cambodia. She's just…there. How did she KNOW? How did she FIND HIM?

She finally tells him, maybe the third time she 'meets' him, that she was sure that he loved her. Why, he even screamed at the top of his lungs that he loved her! Monkey Fist is stunned. No. That didn't happen.

He gets all uppity, maybe even red in the face (blushing. Amy is delighted, she's never seen this side of him before!). That wasn't what he was really thinking, or feeling, for that matter! It was just a side effect of whatever she drugged him up with!

She just continues to smile at him. He starts feeling unease, real unease. She tells him, knowingly, a little coyly, that she didn't give him any medicine for the procedure. He specifically requested no pain killers, or drugs, of any kind. She repeats to him, verbatim, what he'd told her about wanting to experience the entirety of the operation, even its ugliest moments.

Well, Montgomery, you've really done it now, haven't you? Told an incredibly intelligent, persistent, obsessive, and frankly, insane woman you loved her as she was shattering your joints. You wonder how you got yourself into this mess. O, right. Ultimate Monkey Master. Maybe Bates had a point. Or your mother. Okay, not her, but maybe Bates.

And that's that! That's how we get to Gorilla Fist!

[voidaxolotl]

Nothing too against Amy Pond (definitely a little-)

But Amy's Choice is one lf the few episodes that makes me actually believe she loves Rory- maybe also Pandorica Opens (she remade that man with all of her other favorite things)

But throughout the episode she's only touching Rory. Putting on his poncho, adjusting it later, staying closer to him when both Rory and the Doctor are knocked out, the whole "not wanting to be in a world without Rory" thing, etc.

In most episodes I find it hard seeing Amy's love for Rory, but I think thats just from how I express love for the people I know-

For me there are very few scenea between Amy and Rory that makes them feel like more than roommates or friends- this isn't to say that I see Amy loving the doctor more, she has a similar air or vibe to the doctor as she does to Rory (I'd call the three closer to a poly relationship if I had to with the way Amy acts the same to both most of the time)

But that might just be Amy's character, seeming to live her boys on the same level but in small moments she's showing just how important Rory is to her- just hard for me to see those moments. Their relationship has always felt clunky to me, rushed or just slightly off, like two puzzle peices that were forced to fit and are from different puzzle boxes. And the thing is, I know that the people working on Doctor Who can make a love story that I believe even if it doesn't use any of the love languages I know- The Doctor and River Song, Rose and the Doctor, the beginning of Rose and Micky. Actually Amy and Rory feels like a retelling of Rose and Micky but one where Rose isn't as interested in the doctor but still falls out of love with Micky- only we don't see the beginning of the story.

And now I'm just repeating myself- I would like someone to change my mind on this, I've seen so many posts of people loving Rory and Amy's relationship and seeing them together as amazing but I just can't. Someone help me out here, yeah?

[retrogamingloft]

- Ami Mind Longplay (Amiga Game) - Master Mind is a classic code-breaking game that was first introduced in the 1970s. It involves two players, one serving as the code maker and the other as the code breaker. The code maker’s task is to set a secret sequence of colored pegs, while the code breaker must deduce the combination through a series of guesses within a limited number of turns.

The secret code consists of a sequence of four colored pegs chosen from a set of six different colors. The code may contain repeated colors, creating a large number of possible combinations. The game unfolds with the code breaker making guesses by arranging their own set of pegs, which the code maker then evaluates.

After each guess, the code maker provides feedback using smaller pegs, typically in black and white. A black peg indicates that one of the guessed pegs is both the correct color and in the correct position, while a white peg means a peg is the correct color but in the wrong position. However, the feedback is deliberately vague, as it doesn't specify which of the guessed pegs is correct, requiring the code breaker to rely on logic and deduction to narrow down the possibilities.

The game continues over a set number of rounds, usually between ten and twelve. The code breaker either successfully deduces the secret code within the allowed attempts or fails, ending the game. The interplay of deduction, feedback, and guess refinement creates a rich layer of strategy, requiring careful analysis of every clue to home in on the solution.

Master Mind is known for its intellectual challenge and minimalistic design, and it quickly gained popularity after it was licensed and published by Invicta Plastics in 1971. Though its physical version became a household staple, the game also found its way into the digital realm, with versions on computers and mobile devices, each offering different levels of difficulty.

Variants of Master Mind exist, which modify the number of pegs in the code or the range of available colors, adjusting the game’s difficulty accordingly. The game, at its core, remains a test of logic and deduction, a game of wits between the two players.

The Amiga version, released in 1994, faithfully reproduces the experience of the original board game, offering players the same level of challenge and strategic depth. Additionally, the graphics are vibrant and colorful, further enhancing the experience.

[fawnnlvr]

IMAGINE a nerdy reader that will match spencer reid's freak. i have been rewatching b99 and what i always loved was how jake and amy match each other's freak so well and it made me remember that the scene in criminal minds. spencer being like, "one uses ellipses while the other uses dashes." and spencer had the geekiest smile on his face because he viewed the case as this puzzle. just imagine reader matching his freak and being like omg that's so interesting and cool and you and him just bond of linguistic profiling.

spencer reid x nerdy!reader who will definitely get turned on by spencer's talking about all these facts and information that he has read. spencer would admire how you always plan things about and have binders and schedules and back up plans. someone like amy santiago. spencer would definitely fall in love with someone like that. the ambition, the "weirdness"— i think he would love that.

but simply imagine the two of you being a power couple because your goal is to always be the youngest and bestest at everything and he is someone who is already that. maybe rivalry but mostly just respect for one another. the couple that everybody at the bau rooted for. penelope will be your guys' biggest supporter, along with derek who makes sure to leave you two together during traveling cases.

all in all i love me some jake and amy. they are my favorite tv couple in the entire world but i am a spencer reid enthusiast and i imagine myself like the queen that is amy but with spencer because i love spencer reid.

edit add: when halloween comes, they will have the most nerdy and niche costume. think of the abbot elementary show where janine and eddie dressed as that dna strand and mosquito from their favorite movie. nerdy you and spencer will definitely do something similar !!!!

[comesatimecomesashadow]

angelito *ೃ༄

pairing *ೃ༄ shadow the hedgehog x mobian reader

fic type *ೃ༄ one-shot / fluff

cw *ೃ༄ shadow being grumpy, shadow & reader sleep in the same bed (no nsfw so no worries !)

summary *ೃ༄ shadow meets his plushie twin.

note *ೃ༄ i thought this was a cute idea TwT

masterlist *ೃ༄

   The moon hung high in the night among the stars. The wind swept through the palm trees and the blades of grass on Green Hill. Shadow had been away helping Sonic and the others defeat Dr. Robotnik (again) and all the poor red and black quilled hedgehog  wanted to do was lie in bed next to you and drop dead. 

   He opened the door to your shared room. When he noticed the open window, he took it upon himself to close it since you huddled under all the blankets. He smiled to himself thinking about that habit of yours. You often liked to have the window open and bury yourself under thick blankets only to regret it later and ask Shadow to close the window for you. 

   Of course he did it, but still. After the window made a clicking sound, Shadow was ready to slip under the covers and hold you for warmth. Unfortunately for him, there seemed to be an intruder, who looked a lot like him, in your arms. Shadow kissed his teeth and swiftly removed his plush double from your arms. You stirred at his actions but his heart swelled when you reached for him in the absence of your plush. 

   The next morning, you awoke to your boyfriend in your arms. It was a lovely sight of course, but this wasn’t how you had fallen asleep. Where exactly did.. Oh. There, at the far corner of your room, you saw your plush (presumably) thrown across the room, on the floor. Collecting dust. 

   You stifled a laugh at the prospect of Shadow throwing it across the room when he had come home. “Shadow,” you held his cheeks in your hand, his eyes weren’t open yet. “Mm.” he mumbled, still not fully awake. “Did you perhaps throw Shadow Jr. across the room?” 

   Hearing your words, he quickly opened his eyes to look at you all puzzled. “Who the hell is that?” 

   You pointed to the depressing plush at the corner of the room, his sight trailing the direction you pointed to. “You woke me up for that?” he sighed heavily and let his head fall on the pillow. He was oddly more grumpy this morning, you noticed. Reluctantly, you began to move to get the plush, but Shadow pulled you back into his arms before you could. “You don’t need that thing when you’ve got the real me.” he said simply, his voice gruff. 

   You rolled your eyes, “He’s softer.” 

   “I’m real.” he deadpanned, his eyes finally opened to look at you. Clearly too tired to deal with your antics. You broke free from his arms and headed towards the plush. Just before you could lay your hands on him, a streak of yellow came, went and came once again — except Shadow Jr. was now missing. 

   You crossed your arms. “Where did you put him?” 

   He mirrored you, “He’s in a better place.” far away from you, is what he wanted to say. 

   You huffed and left the room, feigning upsetness at his actions. Shadow was left in the room, without his double and without his girlfriend.

   He told himself you’d come around, but you were relentless in getting Shadow Jr. back. “Damn, don’t you think you’re taking this a bit far, ____? He looks mad..” Sonic spoke to you, a worried tone in his voice. You only huffed, “He always looks mad.” Sonic agreed and continued munching on the chili dog in his hand. Shadow only glared everyone from afar, why the heck were you talking to Sonic and them but not him? All because of that stupid plush? “Hmph.” 

   Shadow wanted to pretend like he didn’t care, like you’d get over it later, butttt contrary to popular belief, he was not as convincing as he thought he was. So, reluctantly, he asked to speak to you alone — away from Sonic, Amy and the others. 

   You followed him to a cliff and sat next to him there, looking up at the sky. 

   “So what is it that you wanted to tell me?” 

   Shadow grumbled and pulled something out from behind him, shoving it towards you. “I don’t understand why you like that sorry excuse of a lifeform so much.” Your boyfriend was clearly annoyed. You, on the other hand, were happy as a clam. “Shadow Jr.!” you exclaimed as you took him from Shadow and hugged the plush close to you. 

   He glared at his double before looking away, this was another one of your antics, he presumed. 

   And it was. 

   Next thing he knew, you were engulfing him in your arms, holding him close like you had just been doing to his plush twin. “Hmph. What is this for?” 

   “To ease your grumpiness.” you said jokingly as you nuzzled his cheek with your own. “Were you really envious of a small plush version of you?” 

   He turned to look at you, unamused. “The wretched thing was hogging all your attention.” 

   You pulled away a little, “Wretched? That’s a little harsh don’t you think?” 

   “No.” He huffed and allowed himself to ease into your embrace. “It’s fitting, Shadow Jr. is annoying.” 

   “He’s you.” You giggled.

   “I’m me. That thing is just a fake.” He sounded broody, like always. But you only laughed at his words. “Where did you even get it?” 

   “I made it, while you were away.” You let go of him and opted to rest your head against his. “‘Cause I missed you.” 

   “Really?” he sounded unamused, as if he didn’t believe you. 

   “Yes, really. You were gone for a long time. Plus, I thought it was cute.” you shrugged. “But at the end of the day, I guess the real thing is better.” 

   “You guess? Hmph.” he crossed his arms, “Of course I am.” You smiled at his self confidence but said nothing more, allowing yourself the peacefulness that settled between the two of you. 

   You wished it could always be this way.

[golden-cherry]

deal - cl16 (38/?)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.

Chapter Summary: Merry Christmas - *narrator voice* and there was only one bed.

Warnings: fluff, mentions of sex

Word Count: 3.2k

series masterlist

previous part

A/N: HE WON IN MONACO - HE WINS IN MONZA. CHARLES LECLERC IS THE WINNER OF THE 2024 ITALIAN GRAND PRIX!!!

You purse your lips. “Bed - singular. Indeed.”

Charles and you stand in the doorway of his room. On the left wall next to a chest of drawers is a door that leads into a small bathroom, while on the right wall is a double bed, freshly made up. Several pillows are neatly arranged at the headboard, the bedside tables have been dusted and the room generally looks very tidy and well-kept. At the foot of the bed are your bags, which Pascale has just put there. Your bags - because you have to share the bed tonight.

“Yep,” replies Charles, who is standing behind you. 

You nod slightly before entering the room and sitting on the edge of the bed. “What makes your mom think we're sharing a bed?” 

Your roommate shrugs. “Do you remember the first morning in our apartment? When mom surprised us and invited us over for dinner?” He raises one of his arms, puts his hand on the upper door frame and leans against it. 

You nod. “I remember.”

“And do you also remember Maman saying that, as my new girlfriend, you get to choose what's for dinner?” When you look at him with wide eyes, he purses his lips into a thin line. "I'm afraid we never set the record straight. Not even when Arthur called you my girlfriend.”

He's right. There have been several opportunities to clear this up. Charles could have called his mother or spoken to her at dinner. And you could have cleared things up too - but neither of you actually did. 

You push the thought that you didn't clear it up because you inwardly wish that you were actually Charles' girlfriend to the back of your mind. 

“Shouldn't we tell her?” you ask hesitantly. “After all, we're lying to your family.”

Charles shrugs his shoulders. “We certainly should,” he replies, but he doesn't sound convincing. “But not today. Not at Christmas. Maman loves you so much that I don't want to do this to her at Christmas. If that's all right with you.”

Pretending you two are a happy couple is certainly the last thing you should do - after all, being affectionate in such close quarters isn't particularly conducive to keeping your feelings in check. But you have no choice - after all, you don't want to spoil Pascale's Christmas. 

“I'll sleep on the floor,” Charles snaps you out of your thoughts and points to the space between the foot of the bed and the dresser facing the bed. “I'll just take a few pillows off the bed and one of the thick blankets from the wardrobe and that should be enough for one night.”

You shake your head. “Absolutely not. You're going to training camp soon and you certainly can't go there with back pain,” you remind him, planning his days ahead. “I think Andrea would kill you if you didn't show up in top shape.”

The Monegasque sighs. “And how are we supposed to handle this?” 

The look on his face is the same as when you were standing opposite each other in the living room. When he said that he didn't want you to feel uncomfortable around him. When he suggested you go back to being friends. 

You miss him so much that it hurts. You'd love to get up and wrap your arms around him and never let go, but that's where the problem lies. His “mon ami” draws a clear line between what you want and what he wants. And you have to accept that, even if it breaks your heart. 

But that doesn't mean he has to pull his back out just because he thinks his closeness makes you uncomfortable. 

“We could share the bed,” you suggest as nonchalantly as possible. When he gives you a puzzled look, you shrug. “It's only for one night. And the bed is big enough for both of us. Then nobody has to sleep on the floor and Andrea won't kill you because you're going to camp with back pain.”

Charles raises his eyebrows. “Are you sure?” He takes his hand off the doorframe and walks towards you to sit on the edge of the bed next to you. “I don't want you to feel uncomfortable. I really don't mind sleeping on the floor.”

You smile at him. “It's okay,” you reply, "we're adults. We can share a bed quite reasonably. And it's only for one night. We should be able to manage that.” You look down at your hands in your lap before looking your roommate in the eye again. “I would have rather expected that we'd still have to sleep in separate rooms, even though your mom thinks we're a couple.”

Charles leans backwards, propping himself up on the bed with his elbows. “Why is that?” 

“Well - some moms don't like their sons' girlfriends because they're afraid they'll take them away from them. Their little boy.” You can't suppress a grin. “And I don't think many would want their little boy to share a bed with their girlfriend either - even if they're all grown up.”

“That would imply that my maman can't stand you,” he replies and tilts his head back. As he swallows, his Adam's apple bounces up and down. “Besides, even if we were really together, I wouldn't have sex with you in my maman's house. I have that much decency - for now,” he grins and looks at you again. “And she knows that too. That's why she allows us to share a bed.”

As he talks about sex with you, heat shoots up your face and your hands get sweaty. Hopefully he doesn't notice you wiping them on your dress. “I like your mom,” you deflect from the topic. 

“She likes you too,” he replies and sits up straight again. “Then let's not keep her and the others waiting any longer. After all, Christmas is a family holiday." He slowly gets up from the bed and turns to face you as he stands in the doorway. “Let's go, mon ami. Otherwise we'll get into trouble because she'll think we're getting it on like two teenagers who can't keep their hands off each other."

Thank God he leaves the room so that you can wave your hand in your face. His words make your pulse quicken so that you can almost hear your heart beating in your ears. Images appear in your head of his hands gliding over your body and his lips kissing your neck. 

Before your thoughts take over, you jump up from the bed and smooth down your dress to follow your roommate back downstairs, where the rest of the family is already waiting for you. You enter the living room, where the youngest Leclerc puts his arm around your shoulder. 

“Listen, when we play Monopoly later, the others will insist that you take the bank,” Arthur whispers in your ear. “If you'd be kind enough to slip me more money than I'm entitled from time to time, then -”

“Arthur! Are you trying to bribe my girl?” Charles calls over to you from the kitchen. The 'my girl' makes your knees go weak. 

“I would never do that,” Arthur tries to defend himself and pulls you a little closer to him. “I'm just talking about how nice it is that your girlfriend is spending Christmas with us.”

“You're a bad liar,” Charles grins, leaning against the worktop. “Besides - do you really think she should help you cheat if I'm playing as well?”

“No one cheats at Monopoly here, otherwise I'll throw the game away and we'll never play it again,” Pascale interjects. “I don't want my sons to get nasty again just because they can't behave in a board game.” She joins her middle child in the kitchen to take two bottles of wine from the fridge and put them in his hand. 

“Hey!” Arthur lets his arm slide off your shoulder to embrace his mom. He rests his cheek against the top of her head. “You're acting like we're cavemen.”

Pascale rolls her eyes. “Then don't act like one just because you can't keep it together in a board game. Now set the table, dinner will be ready soon.”

Together, you place plates and cutlery on the dining table as Enzo and Charlotte join you. The young woman hugs you tightly, while the eldest of the Leclerc brothers waves hello.

“It's nice to see you again,” she smiles and hugs you tightly. “You'll be the bank later - and my partner in crime, yes?” she whispers, before letting you go again. 

Charles laughs out loud. “I heard that, Charlotte,” he warns her with a grin and stands next to you. “I think it's funny that you all think she'd associate with you when she's my girl.”

Charlotte winks at you. “It was worth a try.”

As you all sit together at the table and eat, you look around the room. There are Christmas decorations everywhere that weren't there a few days ago. There's even a Christmas tree in the living room, but there are no presents underneath it. When Pascale notices your gaze, she smiles at you and puts her hand on yours. 

“We don't give each other presents at Christmas anymore,” she says, looking around. “Since -” Charles clears his throat as she swallows hard. 

“After my father died, we decided that there would be no more presents at Christmas because family is the greatest gift you can get,” he explains, pursing his lips. “Dad always gave the best presents and when he was gone, it was different for us.”

You smile at him before squeezing Pascale's hand. “Thank you for letting me be here. It really means a lot to me.”

“You're always welcome here,” she replies. “I'm glad Charles met you. You can almost see how good you are for him and how much he loves you.”

“Maman.” Charles rolls his eyes and a blush shoots into his cheeks. “This is totally embarrassing.”

“I'm just telling it like it is,” she smiles, leaning over to whisper something in your ear while the others continue to talk. “But don't you dare help him with Monopoly later. After all, I invited you here and cooked the meal. I guess I deserve a few extra bucks,” she winks, before turning her attention back to the others' conversation. 

You look at Charles, who smiles at you expectantly. “Everything all right?” he asks you. His hand, which is resting on his leg, twitches as if he wants to reach for yours. 

You look around for a moment, watching the family members interacting lovingly and celebrating Christmas together, before turning back to him. “It couldn't be better.”

-

“You're taking the piss,” Arthur complains, jumping up from his chair with such a jerk that it tips backwards. “You'll never have enough money to buy the fourth station from Charlotte!”

You raise an eyebrow and hand Charlotte the banknotes as she slides the playing card over to you. "Do you really think I'd cheat on you guys? This is my first time playing with you!”

Pascale shakes her head. “Think about it, Arthur. She's simply done well. Look at how many streets - “ she starts to defend you, but falls silent before looking at you with her head tilted back. “Where did you get the money to afford so many streets?”

“Maman!” Charles interjects. “You can't just accuse my girlfriend of stealing money from the bank just because you're losing. That's not nice. Especially not at Christmas.”

Enzo rolls his eyes. “You're only saying that because she's your girlfriend. Love has made you blind, little brother.”

Charles smiles lovingly at you. “I guess it has. But that's okay. I don't mind losing to you.”

You return his smile sweetly. “That's good,” you reply and take a look at the pitch. “Because I've won.”

The Leclercs stare at the table, puzzled and amazed, as if you've shown them a magic trick. But really - there's no way they could beat you now. 

Charlotte laughs. “I didn't even know you could actually win Monopoly. I thought it was a myth.”

Enzo takes a sip of his wine and nods at her. “You usually stop the game after three hours because you either don't feel like playing anymore or someone knocks over the board.”

“And it's usually you,” laughs Pascale and gets up from the table. “Very well. I declare the evening over for me. I'll see you in the morning,” she smiles at you before pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “I'm very glad you're here.”

“Me too,” you smile at her and look after her as she leaves the room. 

The five of you tidy up the room and put everything neatly away in the cupboards before you say goodbye to each other as well. In the bathroom of your room, Charles and you get ready for bed and change into your sleeping clothes before standing in front of the bed that you have to share. 

“Is it really okay for you if I sleep in the bed too?” Charles asks uncertainly as you sit down on the bed and slip under the covers. 

“I wouldn't have offered if it wasn't,” you smile, patting his side of the bed. “We're both adults. And as long as it's okay for you, it's okay for me.”

Charles nods and scratches the back of his neck. “I really wouldn't mind sleeping on the floor.”

“I do.”

He can't say anything in reply. He slowly walks around the bed and slips under the covers as well. He turns off the light and lies down on his back. 

The silence between you is strange and the physical distance doesn't make it any better. You can feel Charles' body heat through your shirt and shorts and it almost feels like the last few days haven't happened. You'd love to snuggle up to him and fall asleep by his side. 

“Be honest,” Charles breaks the silence. “Did you steal money from the bank in Monopoly?”

You giggle briefly. “I did.”

Your roommate's laughter booms through the room. “I knew it! Oh my God!” You feel him turn to his side. “Welcome to the family. You're a real Leclerc now!” he laughs, barely able to contain himself. 

“Psht!” you hiss at him. “Stop laughing! Otherwise you'll give me away and I'll lose my honorable Monopoly victory!”

“Honorable?” he asks and continues to snort. “You cheated!”

“And your family asked me to take money out of the bank for them so they could win,” you grin. “They're the worst family when it comes to Monopoly!”

Charles slowly gets himself under control again. “But otherwise we're a nice family, aren't we? Otherwise you wouldn't have spent Christmas with us.”

You nod, even though he can't see you. “I love your family.”

“And they love you. Especially Maman.”

You turn on your side too, in his direction. Apparently you're closer together than you expected, because you can feel his breath on your face. 

“Is everything okay?” Charles asks quietly. “I mean - I don't want you to feel uncomfortable around me. I - I can still sleep on the floor if you want.”

“Charles,” you exhale, but before you can say anything, he continues speaking. 

“I meant what I said to you on the boat. I can't be without you anymore and I'll do everything I can to make sure you don't turn your back on me. Nothing in this world is as important to me as you.” He takes a deep breath and exhales. “I can't describe it. You're my best friend - but so much more.”

As he moves, you feel the blanket slip over your body. You want to reach for his hand, to reassure him that you will never turn your back on him, but the words stick in your throat. Not because they're not true, but because they don't cover the whole truth that's inside you. 

You love him. With every fiber of your being. 

“You're the person I think of first thing in the morning. The person I look forward to the most when I get home. When you're with me, it's - I don't know - like we're permanently out on the open sea and the sun is shining down on us,” he confesses, without even thinking about what that might do to you. 

“And I can't stop thinking about how you felt. How warm your skin is, how soft you feel under my hands. How the heat spreads through me when you touch me. It's like touching the sun and burning myself - but I can't stop thinking about how good it feels. You're my best friend,” he breathes out. “But fuck - if I said I didn't actually crave you, that would be an outright lie.”

You can feel the arousal gathering in your shorts, goosebumps spreading across your skin and heat rising in your face. When Charles suddenly moves and turns on the little light on the bedside table, you look at him. 

“I can't share the bed with you if - if you -” he stammers, before taking a deep breath to sort out his thoughts. The comforter that was covering you a moment ago has slipped so far down due to his movements that it's below his hips - revealing his shorts and the bulge underneath. 

“Charles,” you breathe, but you don't know how to answer him without telling him directly that you love him. You have to pull yourself together. 

“I can't just lie next to you because it's tearing me up inside that I can't touch you, because I make you feel so uncomfortable that you don't want to share a bed with me in our apartment anymore.” His voice trembles, as does his hand, which is resting on his thigh. 

You don't know what makes you do it, but apparently your brain goes blank and throws all doubts overboard as you lean over to him. His eyes are glued to you as you carefully place your hand on his and your fingertips touch the soft skin of his thigh. A lightning bolt twitches through your veins at the touch - nothing has ever felt as good as he does at this moment. “I never said I was uncomfortable, Charles.” You shake your head slightly. “Quite the opposite.”

Charles looks into your eyes, trying to see anything in them, hesitation or uncertainty, but the only thing he sees is warmth and a longing he knows all too well. 

He squeezes your hand twice, and when you return his squeeze and squeeze his hand twice too - he snaps.

[reddish-ash]

Borrower AU and First meeting

Amy, both in canon and in au, has touch as one of her love languages, so she often squeezes and hugs Piglet (it's good that she's tactile). And when she gets to know William better, she often can't help but pet him when he's within reach.

William, who is not used to most types of affection, was initially very embarrassed and puzzled, but later realized the beauty of hugs and tactileness

[awionetka]

𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞! ❅

3, 2, 1, go! love and deepspace boys become street racers (while possibly romancing you in the process)...

𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫: fluff (?), drabble. street racer!Zayne x bar singer!reader.

𝐗𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐫 / 𝐙𝐚𝐲𝐧𝐞 / 𝐑𝐚𝐟𝐚𝐲𝐞𝐥 / 𝐒𝐲𝐥𝐮𝐬 / 𝐂𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐛

𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠…

❅ use me; pvris, 070 shake

❅ accident; woodz

❅ to be hunted; childish gambino

The night seemed young still when Zayne entered the dimly lit bar situated by one of the unofficial street racing sites.

It was some time ago he learnt that this one was his absolute favorite; with its sharp turns and treacherous traffic lights it required the highest possible levels of both skill and patience, something Zayne made sure to keep nurturing in himself. However, he would lie if he ever said that the challenge posed by the track was the sole reason he enjoyed it to such extent. How could it be, when merely five minutes away from it he found the purest of gems, tucked neatly on a wobbly bar stool right next to a beat up grand piano…?

Zayne heard you before he ever laid his eyes on your form. Some of his teammates and friends ordered a round of shots, the excitement from the previous race still present among them. Zayne, on the other hand, was the picture of composure, lip corners tugged gently upwards, hands clasped on the table in a polite manner. He’d gotten a high enough place in the ranking to move just a tad closer to paying off his student loans, and that in itself was sufficient. Now, the only thing he craved was to drive back home, feed Basil (his 7 year old half Persian with a knack for causing mischief when her owner was gone) and crawl under the covers to catch at least some rest before the morning alarm attacked his senses once again.

But then, the atmosphere shifted. It wasn’t an obvious change, more like a gust of wind rustling the pages of his favorite book or the faintest of raindrops grazing his skin. Zayne had barely any time to spot it before you began your performance – that night, it was a mix of your beloved Amy Winehouse tunes and something else he wasn't familiar with – successfully enchanting everyone in your vicinity, including him (especially him).

In all honesty, even enchantment didn’t seem to quite cover it, at least not in his case. You were like a breath of fresh air, like stumbling upon a puzzle piece you thought you lost forever. Voice gentle and sultry, pliable enough to fit various kinds of songs without much strain. The sound crawled inside his veins, prickled his skin, made his head spin. To some, you were just mere background noise. To Zayne, you were the only person in the entire room that he was willing to actively pay attention to.

And so it continued; he participated in races, won some, lost some, waited patiently for someone else to bring up the bar you performed at. He was more than sure that the second his friends catch a whiff of his slight enchantment with your person, they would not only never let him live it down, but also go and try to do something about it, inevitably bothering you in the process. And he was willing to move heaven and earth in order to prevent that from happening.

However, he was still merely human and very much not immune to your charms. Zayne had tried to be more present within the conversation, even offered a game of cards once or twice, but your voice pulled him back as if he was put on a leash.

And even though his eyes would inevitably drift back to you, he’d never dare to let his gaze linger for too long at a time. It seemed barbarous to him to invade your space in that moment, even wordlessly, even from afar. So he bit his tongue and averted his gaze, mindlessly analysing the glass which his drink was served in, maybe dropping a comment or two to seem more invested in whatever was happening at his table.

All of his efforts entirely futile; as nothing could prevent his resolve from cracking under the gentle push of your fingers closing in on Zayne’s heart. And maybe, just maybe, he didn’t even wish it to resist. Maybe he needed to feel.

You were, first and foremost, a girl’s girl.

So, when one of your closest friends from the bar decided (against your own advice, may you add) to watch a street race in the neighbourhood in hopes of chatting up some guy, you weren’t about to let her go there completely by herself. Even though you had no interest in such endeavours whatsoever, deeming them tasteless and crude. You supposed however that one night wouldn’t cause much harm, aside from a slightly battered hearing for a day or two from all the tacky engine reeving you expected to witness.

Holding your friend closely by her upper arm, you slipped past a group of teenagers and a cloud of greyish smoke above their heads. At this point, you could only cross your fingers and pray that none of it would damage your vocal cords, the only source of revenue you still had.

"I feel like I'm at some high school party," you muttered to your friend, making her laugh.

She turned around to face you, eyes sparkling and tinted with mischief. "Isn't that the best part?"

Deciding to leave her cheerful comment unanswered, you leaned against the brick wall. How long did these things last? You'd promised your mum you would stop by tomorrow and help her out at the store and she always got up as soon as the sun peeked out.

Seemingly though, your prayers must've been answered, because not too long after, you heard the announcer's voice rise above the chaos.

"I hope you brought your friends and loved ones because tonight is about to become legendary!" He lifted up his hands like a knock off cult reader and a round of cheers errupted around you. "Let me introduce you now to today's shining stars! First off, we've got..."

The man proceeded to list three names you had never heard of prior to that night. You supposed it wasn't exactly a surprise on your part, since you weren't prone to hanging around places like this one, but in a bar like The Crimson Lotus word got around fast and, more often than not, stopped by you on its way.

Curiously eyeing the contestants (could you even call them contestants...?), you took notice of how they interacted with the crowd, attempting to win it over. None of it kept you occupied for long; all three racers looked almost disappointingly normal, until the announcer got to the fourth one, a tall, dark haired man with a pair of wire framed glasses perched on top of his head.

"Aaaaand last, but definitely not least, the calculated and mysterious, in this glorious Mitsubishi Lancer, Sage!"

You glanced at him in passing and then, something stuck. Blinking almost cartoonishly, you turned to face your friend, only to find her already staring in your direction with eyes wide out of pure shock. "Isn't that... the whisky sour guy?"

The whisky sour guy. That is the nickname your friends at the bar gave one of its frequent clients, one you commented on, once, pointing out that he seemed kind of cute. Obviously, since then your colleagues had blown it out of proportion, sending you knowing glances whenever he dropped by, and you prayed, and did so reverently, that the poor man wouldn't notice their looks.

However, in the comfort of your own apartment, one you shared with your most beloved of friends, you confessed to her that maybe you were in fact considering buying him a whisky sour and sending it off with a brief handwritten note. Because sometimes he really did seem like an emotionally mature, stable guy, an attorney, or perhaps a doctor, and maybe he'd be the one to finally treat you right.

Looking back at it now, faced with the harsh, stone cold truth, all of your daydreams turned impossibly sour, much like his drink of choice. And even though as the announcer introduced him, the man didn't present a much different demeanour from the one you were already familiar with, the feeling remained.

You'd managed to make him into something he was not.

With disappointment weighing down your heart, you turned away.

[amymbona]

Challengers - the band

Among equally famous Arctic Monkeys or Gorillaz, fans have got nuts over the quickly rising indie band formed in 2006. Challengers consists of three uniquely charismatic members, each one equally as genuine, and yet they all fit together like pieces of puzzle, creating a what fans appreciate as the trio of the decade.

Fitting into the genre of pure english indie, the trio doesn't fear to bounce into the world of rock or deliver a heart-touching ballad, so versatile that it appears unbelievable to many. The critics deem Challengers as an immortal piece of music that will continue to live on and be appreciated decades into the future. Even the thirsty fans seem to agree.

Tashi Duncan

The frontman - in this case the front lady - carries the aesthetic part, providing a gentle caress with each of her smiles, known widely by her fair amount of dark toned lipsticks and pairs of leather pants. As the main vocalist, her voice is heard in most of the songs, and she is essentially the voice of the band.

The gorgeous grace with which she carries herself can hardly he matched, and by many, Tashi is often refered to as the bitch, which takes away from the beauty of her soul. Contrary to a popular belief, Tashi Duncan is a gentle human - a fact supported by all the fans that have met her - as she never misses an opportunity to hug a fan or sign a paper.

A sex symbol, often compared to Amy Winehouse or Fiona Apple, she's often reduced fo a pretty face - much to her fans' disappointment. The talent she possesses is nothing short of a gift, given to her by gods above, and certain female singers have expressed both their jealousy towards and support to the star.

Art Donaldson

Known as the people's sweetheart, the most one could spot of Art Donaldson is the messy mop of his curls peeking from behind the drum set. With often admired set of muscles - which many female fans attempt to grasp once the drummer ventures in public - it's no issue for him to be pounding into the drums and cymbals all night.

His steady beats offer a stable background to all of the band's songs, resembling the rhythm of our heartbeats. But the man who's been named as the best drummer of the current music wave is much more than that.

It's no secret that Art Donaldson does most of the songwriting, providing his fans an insight to his soul, which doesn't resemble the harshness of his clothing style at all. Upon further observation, it's clear that most of the lyrics are centered around love, affection, eroticism and gut-wrenching feelings. This gentle compassion, paired with a cute smile, makes Art the most wholesome face of the genre of indie.

Patrick Zweig

This man is not famous just for his pretty face, though it is the feature he is the most recognized for. With the electric guitar constantly glued to his hands and the enthusiasm of an eight-year-old, Patrick Zweig jumps from one side of the stage to another. Some might say he is a bad influence, supported by the handful amount of evidence of nicotine and alcohol induced behaviour.

Known for his unrealistically swiftly executed guitar riffs, Patrick is the one to transform the ideas into music, as the band itself has mentioned. Most of the early hits were made purely under his supervision, which helped set the initial direction the band would evolve in. Perhaps he is the one we should thank for having Challengers become real.

It was particularly Patrick who stole the hearts of many young ladies, successfully earning himself the title of the womanizer. Multiple women were spotted leaving the Zweig residence over the last few months, wearing evidently less clothing that they entered the luxurious villa in. As the most extroverted and publically followed member, Patrick Zweig might as well be the loudest element of the three-man band.

[sulumuns-dootah]

If requests are open, could you do Gehena boy's reaction to a reader who's short and pretty skinny? They don't have curves at all and are AA cup.

And they try not to be insecure about it, but they have their moments where they are by themselves and try to find something to like about their body.

Gehenna demons w/ short and skinny s/o

A/N: Finally slowly getting back into writing requests^^ As always, sorry for the wait U.U

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Any negative thoughts about your height are strictly not allowed bc if you're short it would mean that he is too and how could he be short? he's the king ffs!

If Satan ever catches you looking at yourself in the mirror in less than adoring manner, say goodbye to any other mirror you could come across

Any other further negative talk about your body will annoy him

Not at you, but at whoever set up those non-sensical beauty standards

       ༺☆༻

"Wh-what do you mean, Y/N?"

Sitri will geniunely become puzzled when you tell him about your insecurities bc you're literally his type

(Yes, your body type became his favorite the moment he fell for you, but that's semantics)

When you continue pointing out your flaws, he'll starts pouting even more

"But... I like you the way you are..."

Mostly, he feels hurt that you would talk so negative about his favorite perosn in the whole existence (even before Solomon)

       ༺☆༻

This stays just between us bc those two would kill me for this on the spot, but(!) I believe Amy would have the exact same reaction as Sitri

"B-but... If you were any bigger, it would be harder for me to carry you around and make sure you don't fall off my bike..." :(

For Amy your smaller frame adds a bit more of excitement to his kink

Like, you mean to tell me that this person managed to get this mountain of a demon submit to them?

Here goes the extra humiliation aqnd embarassement

       ༺☆༻

"My eyes are supposed to be the best of Gehenna and I still see nothing wrong with your body!"

Another puppy in the 'but you're my favorite' club :(

But if you want to build your frame a bit more, you can go to the gym together

A gym buddies :)

He can wheeze from running on the treadmill while you cast worried glances from some weighlifting machine

(I think they're called smth like that)

       ༺☆༻

Paimon comes up with a creative solution to any of your insecurities: thrist trap compilations!

They don't have to be public

It's just so that you see how gorgeous you look!

Sometimes even spends their nights making fancams of you instead of sleeping

Knows just the stuff you should wear to love what you see in the mirror

Maybe even matching platforms with so so so many charms?

       ༺☆༻

Another creative way to raise your confidence comes from Astaroth who will try to seduce you into falling in love with yourself

Not really sure how he would even do that, but he would find a way since he's the seducer demon

The one to immediatelly jump to body-worship in the bed

I mean, yes, they all would, but Astaroth wouldn't even bother to try something else before that

       ༺☆༻

A thing I sort of expect from Jiyu is that if you actually said some insults are too perosnal, he wouldn't use them

So after finding out about your insecurities, he would absolutely stop using insults of that sort

Belial, as sweet as he is, would do anything to show how much he likes you

Technically, he could also belong into the pouting puppy litter like Sitri, Amy and Leraye, but he doesn't really strike me as the one to express his sadness

Yes, he's sad, but he rather chooses to reassure you that you are perfect, rather than accidentally make you feel guilty

       ༺☆༻

Our himbo wouldn't at first get exactly what you mean(ik, sorry u.u)

At first he'll think you just need help with your workout

But after talking to him about it a bit more, he'll finally understand

This is worse to him, though, bc he has no idea how to help you then

In his mind, telling you the usual 'You're perfect' and 'There's nothing wrong', a bit too empty

Instead, I think he'll try to solve your problem with one of his talismans that will slowly help you build confidence

[beca-mitchell]

no ordinary things with you (1/1) (bechloe)

I did this challenge by @ekingston. what a fun idea! And super thanks to @velvetinkkwrites for encouragement and being a co-conspirator.

My "prompt" was: fluff / locked in an escape room / unresolved sexual tension / a hangnail and amazingly, the Bechloe just flowed. I love these dummies.

Summary: Beca and Chloe are stuck in an escape room. Good thing Beca is an extremely calm person.

Word count: 1,000

Read on AO3 or below.

****

It’s Amy’s idea.

It’s always Amy’s idea.

And yet–

“I knew this room wasn’t meant to be completed with just two people.” 

Somehow, Amy is not here.

Chloe sighs in response to Beca’s short tone. “Bec, it’s fine. We can just wait it out.”

A familiar flare of a decade-old competitive streak flares up in Beca at the mere thought—something she had thought long dissipated once they left university. Yet being trapped in a small enclosed space with Chloe Beale has once again made Beca’s fight-or-flight instincts rise to the surface. 

“Why would they even allow us to do this room knowing that we’re two people and not three? They saw us walk in. They heard us say that Amy would be late.” She glares at the puzzle before them that clearly requires at least three pairs of hands and not just the two they have presently available. “Now we’re trapped,” Beca enunciates in an extremely chill, not dramatic way. 

Chloe’s voice. “Come on, Bec. We can at least try.”

Chloe’s soothing encouragement and endless positivity combine to make Beca feel like somehow, they’re back in college and maybe back in the stifling heat of Aubrey’s corporate torture retreat. 

Shockingly, not Amy’s idea.

Chloe’s idea, actually. 

God, that had been a time.

Beca glances at Chloe who is running her hands over the surface of the platform in front of them, clear ridges and grooves meant to be manipulated by multiple sets of hands. It’s a spy-themed room, meant to be dark and mysterious. The dim lights aren’t particularly calming to Beca right this second, especially because the lack of light somehow serves to make Chloe prettier, which is, like, extremely unfair to Beca.

It’s kind of the whole reason why Beca’s kind of being short with Chloe, when it’s really the last thing she wants to do, but distance has always served her well. The issue is that distance in a shoebox studio apartment in Brooklyn is a bit hard to achieve especially if she is sharing an uncomfortable pull-out bed with the person she kind of wants some distance from. 

It’s just that…this little being friends with her ex thing is not working out. Jesse is clearly still bitter and Beca is exasperated, which has never been a good combination. It’s even clearer that they don’t work as a couple more than ever before, now that Jesse isn’t attempting to be remotely chivalrous or protective of Beca’s feelings.

Or his own insecurities, evidently. 

So it's his accusations that are why Beca is now doing her best to not stare right at Chloe’s lips. Because of Jesse’s bright idea that Beca had long-harbored feelings for Chloe and that was why their relationship didn’t work out. 

She has tried to convince herself that it’s just Jesse’s latest wayward accusation in a string of accusations and that his dickish behavior isn’t something she needs to pay close attention to, but this one sticks. It lingers and gnaws at Beca uncomfortably. 

So much so that she has been dreaming of Chloe and her smile and her stupidly blue eyes. 

The worst part is, she doesn’t hate it. 

So, suffice it to say, Beca’s running on nerves and anxiety and of course, Amy’s bright ideas aren’t particularly thrilling to her right now. She’s stuck alone in a locked room with Chloe Beale, who looks unfairly gorgeous with her lower lip between her teeth as she puzzles out the clues around the room. And she keeps touching Beca too, with her pretty hands and smiling at her with her perfect teeth. 

“...Bec?”

Beca blinks.

“Sorry, what?”

“You were frowning.” Chloe’s tone is concerned, but she nudges a foot forward playfully. “Not new, of course. Just frowning harder than usual. Is everything okay? Did you figure something out?” 

That I want you.

“No,” Beca answers, groaning internally when Chloe’s face falls at her short tone. “No, sorry—hey. I just…it was a long week at work and-and–” she falters, trying to find any excuse because now Chloe is all perked up and gazing at Beca with such sad, concerned puppy-dog-eyes that she has to say something. Anything, really. “--this stupid hangnail made it really hard to mix because it—”

Chloe gasps, grabbing at Beca’s hand, suddenly. “I told you to moisturize,” she chides.

“Chlo–” Beca tries to take her hand back, but Chloe holds fast, fingers delicately running all over Beca’s hands like she’s solving a puzzle. Beca had not thought this through. 

She hadn’t considered the possibility that Chloe’s hands, which were doing sinful things to her in her dream just the night prior, would actually touch her like this. 

It’s not even an intimate touch, not really. But Chloe has a way of making everything she does feel like she’s doing it as her last act on Earth. So now, with Beca’s hands in her own, she is being exceptionally gentle and thorough as she tries to find the wayward hangnail that had apparently bothered Beca so much that she was acting out in a random escape room in a random building in the middle of Manhattan.

Because Chloe Beale is the only person to fix all of Beca’s problems. 

(The entire issue is that…well, that’s probably true. Beca doesn’t want to deal with that right this second. She doesn’t want to deal with the knowledge that everything she wants is right in front of her.)

Chloe lifts her gaze, eyes alight with something that Beca can’t quite place. 

(And this part—the part that tells her in a small, defiant voice, that maybe what she wants…wants her back.)

Fuck it.

A distant buzzer-like alarm crashes through the room, jolting them apart. Beca thinks that if she really is asleep now, this is maybe just all one horrible nightmare because surely—surely—if this were a dream she’d be able to kiss Chloe.

If this were a dream, she’d grab Chloe’s head and kiss her. 

And based on the look in Chloe’s eyes, she’d kiss her right back. 

fin

[donelywell]

October 5 2023

I changed things up because it's got Frontiers Final Horizons Spoilers. I know the updates been out for like 2 months now but I'm being really cautious.

Super Sonic was really fun to play in the base game, having the auto combo thing on and just seeing so much bombastic energy and over the top moves being thrown at giant titans was so much fun.

I did however, not read the instructions where they tell you to hold the parry, I thought it was a perfect timing thing like a normal parry. So fighting Giganto and Wyvern for the first time was a nightmare for me until I actually read the instructions. =v='

For the design, I didn't change much, Super Sonic is really cool. I basically just changed the green parts of his shoes to red to reflect his new eye color.

Super Sonic² was so cool! The casual backhand slap, the sass, the move where he basically does the idw move, the finger point when he gets back in the game!

The only issue I had is that I didn't understand at all how to fight the final boss. I didn't 100% complete the map so I didn't get the hints. (I am still stuck on the stupid ball hoop map puzzle thing, I swear there is no way to do it) So unfortunately, I had to look up a guide. That kinda dampened the experience, but there was no way I was fighting Supreme over again, getting to the same glitch because I killed him too fast, and then fail the final boss fight again because I didn't know I was supposed to press r2.

I made his quills seem like they are turning into flames at the tips, I made his torso kinda have a sun symbol on it, I made his secondary fur white and his base fur/ quills bright yellow to kinda give it more sun imagery. His arm patterns are a little more detailed, his gloves have kinda formed into the body, making the cuffs look like they're on fire too. His socks turned into bandages and blue rings floating on him with the soles of his shoes kinda smoking on the back. It was a lot of fun interpreting this design differently, giving it a more ancient vibe with a modern twist. The original design is still really cool too!

Cyber Super Sonic... one of the coolest forms in my opinion and yet we see him for less than a minute in only a cutscene. I'm not complaining, the cutscene was so cool! Me and my sibling were star struck when we saw it!

I love the Fleetway elements! The sharp teeth, the crazy eyes, the chaotic behavior that almost made it seem like if Cyber Super Sonic wasn't being literally shot out to his enemy, he'd not be able to tell between friend or foe! God, it was so cool!! Even if it was just limited to a cutscene where you can barely see the entire design in a single image!

I did actually have a static version of this image too, but I'm not including it because it gave me eye strain, and I don't want to hurt you.

For the form I actually decreased the amount of polygons on Sonic. If you look, he's more angular & simplistic and his legs and arms are rectangles! I thought it'd help give him more of a Cyber Computer vibe. I used the blue static and made it kinda an accent color so you can see where things are. I don't really know why, but I also made some parts of him detached? The inside parts have the white spirals that Cyber Super Sonic's eyes were.

The update was a lot of fun to play when it came out, even if it was EXTREMELY challenging for a casual player like myself. Almost made me quit a few times and a couple guides were begrudgingly looked up. Playing as Tails and Amy were definitely the highlights of the update for me though. I hope it was as much fun for you as it was for me. :)

[milunalupin]

— tale as old as time

chapter two

chapter one

beast!remus x beauty!reader ★ 1.9k words

The sun had risen in Riquewihr, your father's chickens clucking outside of your small home on the outskirts of town. You tiptoed through the house to not wake up your father, grabbing and putting on your shrug that was laying over a chair. Collecting the book you had to return to Mister Longbottom from the dining room table you left the house, making your way into the town's center. You wrapped your shrug tighter around you as the brisk morning air ran a chill over you, your shoes echoing over the cobblestone path. You always went to the bakery first to make sure you got the freshest bread for you and your father.

"Good morning Madame Potter, you look puzzled." You chuckled as she walked up to the baker's stand.

"I woke up today feeling like I've lost something again, I just don't remember what." the merchant replied, one of her ceramic bowls in her hands as she looked around her space in confusion. She stopped her search to grab a fresh loaf from her basket and handing it over to you in exchange for a few coins. "Where are you off to today, amie?"

"I just finished reading this book, I'm on my way to return it now. It's about two lovers in northern Italy."

"Sounds boring." Lily scrunched her nose with a smile.

You laughed and waved at the red head , turning to walk towards the town's tiny library. You didn't have to look around to know that the other villagers were staring at you. Since arriving, your father and yourself were often pushed aside and looked down upon. Your father was older, and an inventor. Apparently being the two meant that there was something off in your head. And you, a young woman with no intention of finding herself a husband, were promised to a life of loneliness and poor lifestyle. Many assumed that once your father was gone, you would end up on the streets begging for scraps, a woman with nothing with the ability to read, deeming you useless.

Lucky for you, friendship was easily found in Lily Potter and Frank Longbottom, the kind owner of the library. You continued your stroll, the bell tower ringing to indicate the start of the day.

The town square was the most colorful part of the village, stands full of perfectly picked flowers and buckets of the season's harvests. Vendors shouted over the crowd selling textiles and meats, a cleaver just barely missing your arm as you got pushed around the hustle and bustle of the market.

"Y/N!

A self proclaimed war hero. An arrogant hunter who all the women in the village were in love with. Evan Rosier was Riquewihr's most eligible bachelor, his tall stature and aristocratic features apparently the best thing since fresh bread. He wasn't the brawniest, but he held himself such a way that made all the ladies swoon.

"Here, beautiful flowers for a beautiful lady."

You did your best to keep a polite smile on your face as Evan just about shoved the bouquet into your arms. This unfortunately wasn't your first encounter with the hunter, and you feared it wasn't the last. You knew he was considered the most handsome man in the village, but no amount of attractiveness could overlook such a sour and vain personality. Glancing down at the colorful arrangement of flowers in her hands, you nodded towards Evan and took a step back to continue on your stroll.

"Thank you Evan, I'll see you-"

"Dinner, tonight. I'll arrive just before sundown." he smirked,

"Sorry, I'm busy!" You began walking away from him, the flowers slowly getting ripped apart as you squeezed you way through the crowd to further distance from him. Apologies Mister Longbottom, the books will have to wait for another day.

"Not too busy for a gentleman's company, I'm sure!"

You weaved around the market, slipping into an alleyway, holding your breath to hear if he was nearby. As soon as you saw him strut by, you let out a breath of relief, letting yourself leaning against the stone wall for a moment before turning towards the direction of your house.

Surprisingly, Evan wasn't even the worst part of Riquewiher. The villagers weren't as good at whispering as they thought, or perhaps they meant for you to hear all of the mean comments they made daily. You weren't oblivious to the nasty glares and insults. You didn't share the same miniscule mindset as everyone else, and you wished that one day you could leave it all behind and explore what else the world has to offer. Until then, your books will have to do.

With your little cottage just up ahead, the coast felt clear. But of course with your luck, an obnoxious smile and shiny boots stopped you in your path.

"That's a nice book you have there."

"Evan, do you read?"

You stand there looking confused as he let out a boisterous laugh, shaking his head. "What kind of man do you take me for, of course I don't."

"Of course, how silly of me to assume there was anything in that head of yours besides.. well, is there even a brain in there?"

"Ladies mustn't speak like—" You shut the door behind and blew out a breath, relieved to be at home in your safe space. Hearing your father's whistling from the dining room table, you smiled and walked over to him hunched over his newest invention. It seemed to be his favorite project, a small metal replica of what you believed to be your old family home in Paris. Inside sat tiny figurines identical to your father, mother, and a small bundle which had to have been yourself.

"I don't think the villagers like me very much."

"What's not there to like about you? You're beautiful, very smart, and most importantly, you're kind." he sent you a certain look, the side of his mouth twitching up. "Sort of like someone I used to know."

Your eyes softened at his response. It warmed your heart to know that no matter how much time went on since your mother's passing, his love for her never faded.

Your father gives you a sympathetic smile, coming over to kiss the top of your head before turning back around to collect his things and packing them in a trunk. That's right, it was the time of year that your father left town and traveled to the market to sell his work and meet other creatives. Though you'd missed him dearly, his trips took no longer than a few days.

"Alright my little flower, what shall I bring you back?"

"You already know father. All I'd like is a rose."

The journey to the market was a relatively easy and familiar one. Your father and family horse, Philippe, take the same woodland route every few months. Upon reaching a fork in the road he doesn't remember existing, a breeze of cold air runs through the forest, sending a bit of a chill throughout his body.

"Well Philippe, we've got to make sure we pick the right path." he laughed to himself , nudging the horse towards the right. This path was unfamiliar, but it couldn't take him too far off from his destination. Besides, he'd look bad making that joke to Phillippe only to take the opposite route.

He had to say, the treetops blocking out the sun did make it a little chillier, and the lack of the usual river he followed deprived him from the calming sounds of the running water. The two continued on through the forest, making the most of the greenery and the.. snow?

Philippe's hoof clacking became muffled as the fluffy snowfall increased, a far away howl waking up the artist from his calm state. He was not at the age to try an outrun any wolves, especially not with the precious cargo he had strapped to his horse. Nudging his hooved friend with his calf, they carefully trotted along. The sun had begun setting an hour later, making it harder to see for the older man. Philippe and himself were tired, they were not expecting for this journey to take as long as it had, perhaps he should've taken the left path instead. Just as he was about to give and set up camp among the trees, metal gates came into view. As they got closer, he realized that the metal gates stood at the entrance of a large garden, with an even larger castle standing tall behind it.

With the drop in temperature, your father wasted no time in passing through the gates, tying Philippe up outside, and entering the castle. The foyer was dark, apart from the warm glow from the crackling fireplace. He quickly made his way over to the the heat, rubbing his hands together and letting out a big sigh of relief from escaping the cold even just for a moment.

A clinking of ceramic pulled his attention away from the fire, eyes scanning the room. They finally fell upon a a teacup sitting on a saucer, sliding across the floor in his direction. The teacup then looked up at him with his eyes and spoke. "Papa said I wasn't allowed to move, in case I scare you. But you looked cold so I thought you might like a hot cup of tea."

He blinked, nodded politely while his mind ran a thousand kilometers a minute. "Right, well.. I actually-"

Your father may not be young enough to outrun wolves but he hopes he's faster than this teacup. Philippe's lead had never been untied faster, hoping he was only experiencing hypothermia induced hallucinations while inside. He mounted the horse find his way to his original destination when he notices rose vines nearby, a speckles of red peeking out from the sheet of snow.

"Oh," A cloud of cold breath joins his laugh, "How could I forget?"

Jumping off Philippe, he step towards the prettiest flower to take home to you, when a deep snarl stops him in his tracks. He looks up just as the shadow looming over him presents itself, shaggy fur and giant horns making him fall back onto the snow. He tries to crawl quickly back to Philippe but the monster took hold of his arm and dragged him back into the castle. The frightened horse manages to escape and run off, leaving his owner in the hands of the massive predator.

"Please, let me go! I'll never tell a soul I was here, I promise!" his cries echoed through the candle-lit stairwells on the towers, reaching no one. Roughly thrown into the cell by the creature, he sat with his back against the wall and held his arm in pain.

"Oh I'll make sure of it." The giant beast growled lowly, locking the cell door and stomping away.

Your father had slumped down in his cell, his heart feeling heavy thinking of you alone back home. The stone was ice cold and rough, and the cell had a large opening that led to nothing but what seemed to be a fifty foot drop to his death.

On the steps leading to the West Wing sat a clock, a candelabra, a teapot, and a teacup. They watched in sorrow as their master stomped passed by them to his bedroom where an encased rose sat, one of its enchanted petals falling off and wilting away.

taglist ♥︎

@propertyofrjl @urmomw4ntsme @gooseycaboose

[randomfoggytiger]

Collector's Edition: Curated brenayla

Happy (belated) Birthday to the Poang Pal boss! May this year be personally successful and peaceful and light.

Loose chronological order below~

@brenayla's (Ao3)

threadbare (Tumblr)

Freshly showered Scully is scrubbed pink and freckled, her hair wavy and edged with frizzy strands when she yanks it from a loose bun. The pale purple face mask she had on before the shower is gone and he watches her smear a thick lotion across her cheeks, using two fingers to swipe it into her forehead. Scully brings her travel size toiletries wherever they go. She moves around, snapping up and sealing products into a gallon size bag before flinging it into her flayed open suitcase.

He wants to remember her like this tonight, not tied up and gagged.

Mulder and Scully and beds through the years.

For the sleep prompt list: He/she fell asleep during the car ride.

Earthy Arizona air blasts through Mulder’s half-open window, creating an early summer draft in the car. His fingertips drum against the exterior metal lip of the warmed roof.

In the passenger seat, Scully sleeps on, little tufts of copper hair moving with the wind he’s created.

Long car rides and Scully cat naps.

Cross My Heart

Outside, she keeps a grip on his arm, her heels barely finding tread on the salted sidewalk. Frozen over snow crunches under Mulder's dress shoes as he takes up his space between Scully and the curb. With his free hand, he hails a cab.

It only takes a few moments for a car to swing out of the night, coming to a lurched halt before them.

“Take it.” Mulder waves a hand towards the car and then to her.

“Are you sure?”

“When am I not,” he says, sounding the part.

Post-One Son's Valentine's Day.

ālea iacta est

But all in for Mulder means loving her fiercely while he feeds himself on a labyrinth of mysteries. The X-Files are a siren with which she cannot compete, singing puzzles to him late at night when Scully gives in to her human need for rest. He is a dying star of relentless wonders; an itinerant supernova that cannot be put out early, even by his wild love for her.

Scully takes his face in her hands, warm in the glow of the wood paneled walls, and she tells him the truth.

Post-Millennium Mulder and Scully navigate loosening rules, their first relationship fight, the En Ami aftermath, family hopes in Hollywood A.D., and Requiem desolation.

6. He has a nightmare  

She looks up at him with wide, frightened, cut geode eyes, her skin washed out by a powder blue hospital gown. Blood falls sharply from her left nostril, ripe cherry red. It pools in her cupid’s bow for a moment before overflowing and dribbling against her rosebud lips.

Mulder, she pleads, mouthing around the blood flow.

S7 Scully soothes Mulder after a cancer arc nightmare.

Fin (Tumblr)

They’ve discussed this. On Monday morning, he will be back in this office and she will be across the universe in a Quantico lecture hall, dependent on cell phone service that can easily be severed by elevators and rural highways.

The end is anticlimactic. As soon as the clock strikes 4:50pm, Doggett leaves politely with a one-armed hug and well wishes for the little one.

And then it’s just them. Scully and Mulder in their secretive underground den.

AU-- Alone plays out a little differently (with fewer abductions and angst overall.)

Scully wakes suddenly, disoriented in time.

Mulder opens his eyes, his attention seized. “What kinda bizarre things?”

“I don’t know,” Scully fibs. “I could have sworn that he was…things kept moving around him.”

“Like what?”

“Like his mobile. Maybe other things, I can’t remember. It was a dream.”

Mulder considers his response, poorly concealing his amusement. "Scully, I don't mean to step on your toes here but don't mobiles just do that?"

AU-- Post Alone Scully dreamt up Season 9.

a mini acute postpartum MSR fic

“Hey Scully?”

“What?”

“Did you have an out of body experience when they handed him to you? Because I… when I held him, I definitely had some kind of cosmic experience. I wouldn’t say astral projection entirely, but something in that vein.”

“Mulder, please, not right now.”

“No, I’m being serious.”

S8 Mulder and Scully over-the-moon after the completely normal birth of their son.

He/she has sleep tousled hair.

The apartment is novel still. A hot mug curled between her palms, Scully settles into the crook of the couch, taking a cautious sip.

Time bleeds on, the roof of her mouth scalded by impatience.

Golden light begins to paint the lacquered floors in warm bands before she hears a peep from the bedroom.

Half-hearted cries, shuffled sheets. Her coffee has cooled to lukewarm, allowing her to take earnest gulps.

Post Existence Scully soaks in a moment of silence in this new reality.

AUs

midnight gold (Tumblr)

They were hunting a Vietnam vet who kept on evading capture and Mulder was standing in a huddle of agents who called him childish names when he stepped out for the restroom.

As he’d turned around to shake her hand, Julie would’ve sworn on her granddad’s tattered old Bible that she saw it.

His face was a flesh-toned blur, a Macy’s mannequin; shadowed sockets where his eyeballs should have been. Clear blue currents arched from his temples.

And for a moment – just for a moment – she could see that he was bleeding black from a nostril he did not have.

Mulder and Scully aren't what they seem.

moon shadows

They are different.

Fox Mulder’s hand is made of aloe vera and lush emerald vines that spiral up her wrist. He swells with crisp jungle rainwater, pupils woven with liquid gold. He dims the spring sun in the middle of the afternoon.

The skin of her palm melts into his, dripping with pearls of oxygen rich blood.

“Hi,” he says, sizzling with invigoration so strong it flickers the overhead lights. “Hi, Scully.”

“Hi, Mulder.”

Cryptids Mulder and Scully and the Pilot.

Thanks for reading~

Enjoy!

[carolinahope]

I would like to talk about two scenes from the movie that I absolutely didn't expect to happen then and there and I adore both and I'm kissing Matthew Lopez (and Nick and Taylor) on the forehead for them.

The first one is the aftermath of the Red Room. I called it banter elsewhere but it could be classified as teasing as well. But whatever word we use, it is simply delicious.

Because the Red Room scene starts with both of them terrified for very different reason. And then they are kissing, trying to climb into the other as though no close is close enough for them. It ends in awkwardness when Amy catches them (their reaction is perfection).

And then the next scene we get, is them just casually strolling back into the dining room, discussing Henry's erection.

And it is such a natural continuation of their messaging. But there is a new layer to it. The back and forth is still effortless. But they upped the flirting for sure. And Henry offering his own euphemism is just the perfect cherry on top of this lovely cupcake of a scene.

The second scene that made me gleeful in midst of already being giddy like a kid on Christmas, is the talk at the DNC.

The scene before is them all giggly and impatient and tearing their clothes off. And I definitely didn't expect the next scene to be them sitting on a sofa in fluffy robes eating dessert while playing 20 questions. But it couldn't be more perfect. Because in a short (and beautifully filmed) scene they hammered home that the boys are after more than just getting their hands on each other. They care for and are interested in each other. In the silly little details and the deep hidden pains and joys as well. And they are willing to be open and vulnerable with each other.

The last question, about Henry ever having his heart broken, can be read in many ways. And probably most of them are true. Henry taking a moment to find the answer, being honest and Alex offering silent support with just his hand on Henry's tigh *chef's kiss*.

The previous scene could have transitioned right to the morning after. And Zahra catching them. But giving them and us this little moment just beautifully added another piece to the puzzle of their love for each other and the depth of their connection.

And I was delighted. By both.

[theambitiouswoman]

hiya, please can we also have ted talk recommendations like your book recs post? :) for the categories you mentioned ♡ thank you

Here you go angel ♡

Business:

The Single Biggest Reason Why Startups Succeed - Bill Gross

The Surprising Habits of Original Thinkers - Adam Grant

The Art of Stress-Free Productivity - David Allen

How to Pitch to a VC - David S. Rose

The Future of Money - Neha Narula

Personal Development:

The Art of Being Yourself - Caroline McHugh

Grit: The Power of Passion and Perseverance - Angela Lee Duckworth

The Power of Believing That You Can Improve - Carol Dweck

How to Stop Screwing Yourself Over - Mel Robbins

Try Something New for 30 Days - Matt Cutts

Mental Health:

The Gift and Power of Emotional Courage - Susan David

Why We All Need to Practice Emotional First Aid - Guy Winch

Depression, the Secret We Share - Andrew Solomon

All it Takes is 10 Mindful Minutes - Andy Puddicombe

The Art of Stillness - Pico Iyer

Relationships:

The Secret to Desire in a Long-Term Relationship - Esther Perel

The Power of Vulnerability in Relationships - Tracy McMillan

Rethinking Infidelity... a Talk for Anyone Who Has Ever Loved - Esther Perel

The Mathematics of Love - Hannah Fry

The Hidden Influence of Social Networks - Nicholas Christakis

Success:

The Happy Secret to Better Work - Shawn Achor

Embrace the Near Win - Sarah Lewis

Why We Do What We Do - Tony Robbins

Keep Your Goals to Yourself - Derek Sivers

Why You Will Fail to Have a Great Career - Larry Smith

Goals:

The Power of Setting Goals - John Doerr

The Puzzle of Motivation - Dan Pink

Smash Fear, Learn Anything - Tim Ferriss

Why We Do What We Do - Tony Robbins

The Skill of Self-Confidence - Dr. Ivan Joseph

Self Love:

The Art of Being Yourself - Caroline McHugh

The Power of Vulnerability - Brené Brown

Your Elusive Creative Genius - Elizabeth Gilbert

The Psychology of Your Future Self - Dan Gilbert

The Surprising Science of Happiness - Dan Gilbert

Confidence:

Your Body Language May Shape Who You Are - Amy Cuddy

The Art of Self-Confidence - Dr. Ivan Joseph

Dare to Lead - Brené Brown

The Hidden Influence of Social Networks - Nicholas Christakis

The Confidence Gap - Katty Kay and Claire Shipman

Health & Wellness:

The Brain-Changing Benefits of Exercise - Wendy Suzuki

How to Make Stress Your Friend - Kelly McGonigal

The Science of Cells That Never Get Old - Elizabeth Blackburn

Why Dieting Doesn't Usually Work - Sandra Aamodt

The Art of Stillness - Pico Iyer