#i tried resetting the objects

[spekktors]

I come back to the sims 4 after nearly a year of not playing only to discover the most recent patch has left it unplayable 👍 you love to see it

[eriscary]

Reference sheet of Tear who finally made their appearance in Passing Ghost. I have been waiting to post them, wanting to have that sweet reveal in the comic before it. I am withholding some info due to spoilers or because I want it to be known after the comic is done, which shouldn't take long prolly. Here we go… __________________

Biography: Tear!Sans is a puppet body possessed by a Napstablook whose greatest wish was to become Sans and see the multiverse. He created his body from mix and matching puppets made by Error!Sans. This [REDACTED]

Appearance: Because Tear’s body is a puppet, his bones are plush and have visible stitches. He wears white gloves to hide stitches, but his forehead has the most obvious line of them. He also wears Napstablook shaped headphones and a white coat with a purple hood. Its backside has a pattern of two tear drops forming an upside-down heart. Underneath it is a beige scarf, white shirt and black shorts.

Personality: Tear used to naively believe that everyone is good hearted and tried to be polite even in situations he shouldn’t. His AU got a lot of Sans variant visitors that he observed curiously from afar. Through observation he learns of the multiverse and wishes to experience it. Even wishing to become Sans himself, so he would feel important, loved and blend in more with the multiverse travelers. Finally achieving a feat of possessing a puppet body with a resemblance to Sans, gave him some momentary confidence. [REDACTED] finally understood not everyone is sunshine and rainbows. This made him more nervous of new people than he already is. He spends much of his time training to behave like Sans, failing at making good puns and stressing over not being lazy enough for Sans standards. He works too hard to be one, believing it would give him everything he wanted and [REDACTED]. After all, Sans surely blends into crowds with ease. They saw it with their own eyes. Tear also goes as far as using a great deal of effort into shaping his tears to be gaster blasters and bones. It hinders his speed, although even with this he is as fast as an original Sans, but fails at matching him in damage. Most of the time he feels like he isn’t good enough, both as his old self and Sans. The new life makes him believe it’s his responsibility to do everything Sans took care of too. He blames himself for everything. [REDACTED][ACCESS DENIED]. As a ghost, he felt very touch starved.

Abilities: - Tears: When Tear!Sans cries, his tears hurt anyone on contact. He can manipulate his tears and cry on command. They also leak out naturally. - Shaping tears: Tear!Sans often controls his tears to take a certain shape like his top hat, but usually gaster blasters and bones in hopes of mimicking Sans. Such objects cannot be held by anyone else, as they would take damage. Tear!Sans cannot replicate blue attacks. - Phasing: Tear!Sans can will his body to phase through things, just like when he was a ghost. His body gets more transparent or straight up invisible. Unlike his ghost self, this time it requires magic. When too emotionally overwhelmed, he will unintentionally phase. It will stress him more if it's a comforting touch he was about to receive but couldn't. - [REDACTED]

In battle: Tear's strength is on par with Classic Sans. He doesn't hit as hard, yet keeps up by attacking faster. But because he loses speed by shaping his attacks, he is overall weaker. His boss fight is also shorter because of him spending a lot of magic uncontrollably, before and during the fight. Unlike a Classic Sans or [REDACTED], Tear doesn’t remember SAVEs and RESETs. - [REDACTED] - [REDACTED]

Relationships: - [REDACTED]

Trivia: -Tear’s name has a double meaning. ‘To shed a tear’ and ‘tear something apart’. Different characters will say their name differently, depending on the personal opinion of them. - He is very soft to hug. - He is very light and his steps leave no sound. - His favorite food are Blueberries, or as he calls them, Boo Berries. - He occasionally calls the Player by a pet name “treasure”. - [REDACTED] - He gets excited at seeing any Sans or Papyrus, no matter how they look. - Used pronouns are He/They. - When terrified, Tear can unintentionally water blast the person through his eye sockets. - [REDACTED] __________________ Considering most AU sanses are stronger than Classic, Tear is prolly one of the weakest out there lol. He tries

[tvickiesims]

4t2 Seasonal Trees Collection (Giant)

Some of you asked me about this and I finally delivered! 🥳

This is a collection of 4t2 trees converted from Sims 4 in original textures and made seasonal. It is meant as an add-on to my 4t2 Default Replacement Flora because I didn't include trees already available there.

Key features:

66 Maxis seasonal trees

2 cc palms by Max20 (from his Poolside Lounge Pack)

6 dead trees (non seasonal but get snowy in winter)

5 tree lights (separate objects (lamps, found in lights-misc), show up in hood view)

Seasonal recolors for a lot of trees

Hood view enabled

Quarter tile placeable

Smoothed out meshes

Undersides for leaves

As always, I tried to follow real-life seasonness of plants but sometimes had fun with some states and textures, don't take it too seriously. Seasonal states are not pictured on purpose so you could discover them yourself, in their full glory.

Tree lights at night:

I put my whole heart and soul into these conversions and I hope they'll bring you joy as they do to me ☺️

@cora626 made a great video showcasing all of these trees, check it out here!

Compressed, clearly labeled, picture included.

Download at GoogleDrive

_ _ _

UPDATE 26/03/2024

Made Dead Hawthorn smaller and reset it's footprint (expanding it was a bad idea and the game was struggling), added 3 new trees - 2 Joshua Trees and a Huge Cactus. The archive was updated but if you only need the updated + new trees - they are here.

[ozziethegreat]

somebody on tiktok was complaining about fans headcanoning their favorite characters to self harm so I drew this out of spite!!! HELP

I need Color to kiss Killer’s scars and hold him close and call him pretty

anyway

Killer belongs to rahafwabas

Color belongs to superyoumna

headcanons below!!! CRIES AND SCURRIES AWAY (Tw self harm talk)

Somebody on my discord server once posted some art and said they headcanoned killer to test the sharpness of his knives with his bones and I STARED AT THE SCREEN LIKE WHATT 🙁🙁🙁🙁🙁

The way they aren’t even wrong!! I personally think Killer would usually use his victims instead cause yk he’s a little bitch, but I guess if it’s convenient 😭😭

But anyway in general, obviously Killer is very desensitized to self harm and death and pain and whatever, and since he was always brought back with the resets good as new, I don’t think he ever cared for getting hurt and sometimes he’d do it just out of curiosity or boredom. Since he doesn’t really feel much and he’s gone through MUCH worse, he does NOT care and he doesn’t see it as an issue.

And then Color had to teach him why it’s bad and he just stared at him like “huh”

Anyway!!!!

With Color, I think with all that time in the void, with absolutely no stimulation or socialization with anybody but Gaster, he went just a little crazy!

I think he had grown a habit of picking the cracks of his skull, as well as the cracks on his body until it bled (totally not projecting). Gaster tried to get him to stop but it became an involuntary habit of his and he still sometimes finds himself fidgeting.

Another thing, I think after just moving to the Omega Timeline, he sometimes took really hot showers, touched burning objects, or just random small things that would inflict pain on his body. Being in the void, he kinda forgot what those small things felt like, and even if it’s not a preferred feeling, he missed having that stimulation. Yeah guys I’m very good at putting my thoughts into words!!!!!!! HELP ME

okay that’s all 😓😓😓

[oneknightstand-if]

Fencing Club Route is a Go!

Update 2: Chapter 1 Part 3 - Fencing Club Route

Don't feel like playing polo? Join the fencing club instead!

Play the Updated Beta Test

(Since there were bugs reported throughout Chapter 1 & 2, your current saves are probably going to reset to the beginning of each section of the game)

*If you're getting error messages or the fencing club route isn't showing up properly for you (after you refreshed and restarted the game), you'll need to clear your cache. More details found here.*

Additional Word Count (Sans Code): 120,000+ Additional Word Count (With Code): 155,000+ New Total Word Count (Sans Code): 614,000+ New Total Word Count (With Code): 833,000+ Average Playthrough: ~60,000 words

Note: You can view the game code on my site the same way you do on Dashingdon just add /scenes to the end of the URL.

Next Update

Merlin's Guide to Minor Enemies

A bucketload of owed texts & e-mails to the MC

Decisions of great import... just where are you sleeping in that motorhome?

A̴ ̴C̴o̶m̴p̷l̷e̵t̷e̴l̴y̵ ̶N̴o̷r̸m̴a̶l̵ ̵G̴a̴s̸ ̶S̵t̵a̷t̷i̶o̷n̸ ̵S̴t̸o̷p̷

Take part in your first multi-user spell! (Potentially depending on the length of the gas station stop?)

Meet the next Harbinger - RO #4 (Potentially depending on the length of the gas station stop?)

Link to New Polls on the Update (Which don't auto close in a week like the Tumblr ones)

Also...

I'm currently coming down with something (Covid test says not that, so maybe just the flu?) so I'll be taking a bit of a break after this.

More (Fiddly) Info on the Update Behind the Spoiler Cut...

The Update Also Includes...

Calmly letting Merlin into your apartment after escaping the monster-under-the-bed no longer removes the mute flag

Fixed Adrian literally calling the MC as "MC" in the pub

Fixed expresso back to espresso AGAIN *stares at it*

Fixed the phil_status 2 bug AGAIN (Somehow I must've reverted a bunch of bug fixes in Chapter 1)

Fixed bug where MC's name permanently changes to their pseudonym if the player tried to back out of the renaming screen

Fixed the "On second thought, let me try a different fake first name…" option so it only asks the player to change their fake first name (as originally intended)

Fixed some dialogue with Adrian depending upon your clothing choices in the polo club branch

Fixed the Adrian text messaging bug. Again. Hopefully third time is the charm.

Fixed bug where your current job being your dream employment wasn't triggering the positive job attitude flavor text

Fixed bug where the mute flag was being toggled off when interacting with Adrian regarding your fancy outfit before the polo club meeting

Choice where Lucid Dreamer MC talks to Modern Arthur about Merlin's dreamwalking advice is now set to toggle only when the MC speaks to Merlin in the Camelot dream sequence

Fixed bug with the user's input option for Business Casual outfit

User's choice option for Business Casual & Business Suit now toggles pants or skirt variable

Fixed bug with the Cracking text effect in darkmode

All piercings & scars now available in one choice during customization.

Fixed bug (AGAIN!) when Lucky MC fails the luck check to escape the bed monster

Added reactions to Camelot-affiliated names belonging to inanimate objects.

Fixed *set ag2 2 -1 bug in Camelot dream sequence (I wonder how that didn't trigger QuickTest)

A Bit More Info on the Update Mechanics

The decision on which club you join is one of the first questions in Chapter 1, so players will have to restart from pretty early on. However the fencing club flavor text will continue to run throughout the rest of the game (including in the Camelot dream sequence with the Courtyard branch for the Lucid Dreamer MC).

Otherwise this current update does not progress the game further into Chapter 2.

Also Part 2....

We lost power to part of the house (thankfully not including my computer), and while I'm usually the one who deals with the circuit breakers, since I'm currently sick I asked my mother to do it this one time. She turned the power off to the entire house. 🥲 The uninterruptible power source did nothing and now my computer and the microwave are bugging out. I'm just going to lie down now.

[blueybre]

Jacky93Sims' 4t2 Functional VR Headset - Bugfixes and New Features

So I have been playing with the 4t2 Functional VR Headset by @jacky93sims for a while now. While it is an amazing thing to have it at all, I immediately noticed some weird things going on in my game whenever I tried to use it. Initially I just wanted to get rid of these weird things, but this sparked a big makeover of the entire mod's functions, as I felt this object could do so much more with a bit of BHAV magic.

Most importantly, Sims can now use the VR headset autonomously, gain Science enthusiasm (because waaaay too few objects benefit that hobby) and Fitness through it, you are no longer prompted to take a screenshot whenever a Sim puts the headset on or off, and the headset will no longer kill Sims if you leave them unattended.

Note that the download link only includes the main object containing all the code! Please go to the original download page to grab the headset accessory and the child, teen and adult meshes, too.

DOWNLOAD

The complete changelog is under the cut, if you are interested in the other ways I have changed this object up.

NEW FEATURE: All interactions are now autonomous! All Sims can play or work out if they seek Fun, but Playful Sims are more likely to play with it, and Active Sims are more likely to work out on it.

NEW FEATURE: Sims now gain Science hobby enthusiasm when playing or working out, at a default of 120% the normal speed. (Requires FreeTime, but you can use this updated version without FT, too.)

NEW FEATURE: Sims now gain Fitness when working out. By default the rate is about 50% faster than working out on stereos, to justify the hefty price tag.

CHANGE: Slightly more Fun gain while playing (40/hour -> 50/hour). In turn, higher Energy (-5/hour -> -20/hour) and Comfort loss (none -> -20/hour).

CHANGE: Slightly more Energy (-10/hour -> -20/hour), Comfort (-10/hour -> -25/hour) and Hygiene (none -> -25/hour) loss. Removed the weird fixed -2 Comfort loss when putting the headset on. Active Sims now only gain 50% more Body skill when working out with the VR headset; other Sims still retain the base 150% skill rate gain. I feel like VR would close the skill gap a bit, so...

CHANGE: Made all the gain and loss tunable for those that know their way around SimPE and can change BCON resource 0x1000 (for playing) and 0x1002 (for working out).

CHANGE: Looped the "jumping jack" and "jog" workout animations three times, and slowed them down. Looped the "knee-bend", "stretch side" and "stretch toes" animations twice. It all looked quite odd being at normal speed.

CHANGE: Added a dialogue when a Body Skill point is gained.

CHANGE: Clarified that the object requires University through the catalogue, because it uses a SimVac animation. I also adjusted the catalogue values for Fun (N/A -> 10) and Environment (6 -> 8).

CHANGE: Added a German translation.

CHANGE: Removed some unnecessary resources.

CRITICAL BUGFIX: Sims will now stop using the headset if their fun is maxed or their motives are failing (same thresholds as with any other "Fun" object), so they don't play or work out until they drop dead. This is a similar issue to an unmodded Exercise Bike from FT.

BUGFIX: You are no longer prompted to take a picture when a Sim puts on or takes off the headset. Maybe @jacky93sims did this to create a bit of immersion, but I did not like it.

BUGFIX: Motive changes are now cleared after taking the headset off. Previously, Sims would keep gaining Fun and losing Energy and/or Comfort even after stopping to use the headset.

BUGFIX: If a Sim doesn't have enough room to play or work out after already having strapped the headset on, the "in use" flag and overlays will now properly reset.

[freezerbunny-sims2]

I tried making a swimmable ocean on a non beach lot. I recreated the exact same slope where beach portals are placed and enclosed the water area with "blocks of blocking". It did not work, it just causes object errors when sims try to get in the sea. After being reset, sims appear standing underwater at the other end of the portal. I tried.

[sm-baby]

What would happen say if, hypothetically, someone tried to kill one of the bosses? Physically, not in code? Like- I dunno, just suggesting, by squeezing them to death? Would they explode and respawn, would they reboot, would they just- be unharmed?

I’m very innocent and NOT plotting don’t worry :]

I imagine a player planning out a very articulate plan to kill a boss.. only to be met in absolute horror, as the level automatically resets, not allowing them to continue.

That wasn't the objective, silly!! What did you think was gonna happen? 😁

[columboposting]

I say this as a certified gwen cooper stan and defender and lover etc etc so if i see anyone in my replies coming for my girl its on sight. But it is honestly completely batshit insane to me the way seasons 1 and 2 of torchwood consistently do this thing where on-screen development or depiction of Jack and Ianto’s romantic relationship is directly preceded by a category five Gwen and Jack Unresolved Sexual Tension event. Like, Jack propositioning Ianto over Suzie’s corpse comes right after a scene where Jack and Gwen make moon eyes at each other from across the Hub; in Kiss Kiss Bang Bang Jack only asks Ianto out on a date after a failed attempt to woo Gwen; in Reset, Martha’s conversation with Ianto about getting him and Jack a red UNIT hat comes after her convo with Gwen where both of them are like “man we must be the only two people in the world who havent been with Jack.” The obviously most insane example is in Something Borrowed when Gwen and Jack dance together extremely intimately AT GWEN’S WEDDING and Ianto literally has to WALK OVER to take Jack off Gwen’s hands. (If I missed any more examples please tell me because i feel like I did. Also Fwiw not every Janto scene follows a Gwack UST event, though by the same turn not every Gwack UST event is followed by a Janto scene. But I think there’s enough here for it to be a pattern.). So there’s this consistent thing where we see Jack make moon eyes at Gwen and only going to Ianto after this fails to result in anything substantial. This creates the impression that Ianto is Jack’s second choice for a partner, and that Gwen is his first.

You could argue that this pattern constitutes Jack choosing Ianto over Gwen, but… I dunno. The obstacle that consistently stops Jack from pursuing Gwen further in the scenes I’m talking about is not his commitment to Ianto but Gwen’s commitment to Rhys. (If you want an example of TW S1/2 actually showing Jack choose Ianto over Gwen I’d point at End of Days: Gwen metaphorically awakens Jack by kissing his corpse (he doesn’t seem to object but Gwen is obviously the one initiating), and then Jack immediately runs off to make out with Ianto. Compare with, say, Kiss Kiss Bang Bang, where Jack tries to initiate with Gwen, gets cock-blocked by her engagement ring, and subsequently asks Ianto out. You see the difference?

To set my cards on the table I am obsessed with Jack and Gwen’s straightbait situationship, and I think it is completely fine and cool and entertaining, actually, for Jack and Gwen UST to coexist with canon Janto (Jack is from the Free Love century and has two hands; meanwhile it baffles me that people get on Gwen’s ass for the crime of (checks notes) being into Jack Fucking Harkness, as if being attracted to him is not completely normal and understandable), HOWEVER the show’s scene to scene editing CONSISTENTLY gives the impression that Jack would choose Gwen over Ianto if given the opportunity. So for all that I think a lot of Gwen hate is like, people being unfairly mad at Gwen for “getting in the way” of a gay ship that, per the show’s writing, she never actively interferes with or disapproves of and is generally shown to support, the way the show uses the language of editing does actually kind of value Jack’s hypothetical straight relationship with Gwen over his existing gay relationship with Ianto in a way that frankly fucking sucks. I have no idea whether or not this was intentional or whose fault it is (if I had to blame anyone I’d blame the writers involved and the editors involved, but tv production is complicated and this is a systemic problem that would be difficult to identify if you’re only looking at one episode at a time) but whatever happened its like. A lowkey homophobic element of an otherwise mostly queer-friendly show. Literally what were they thinking.

[mrs-elsie-barnes]

The Old Gods and the New - Chapter 5

There You Are | Loki x Reader

After your time in the medical wing you begin to explore the compoud again, as well as your powers. Thor and Loki do their best to make you feel at home, and Tony tries to make friends the only way he knows how.

Warnings: reader is still shaken, Loki is horny, suggestions of sex, making out.

Green divider by @firefly-graphics

Series Masterlist | Loki Masterlist | Masterlist

Loki was true to his word, using his silvertongue to dodge any question about your burgeoning powers and weaving a tale of your attempts to recreate any of the fires or feelings that had scared the team so badly before. According to Loki you were capable of warming a room and making sparks, that was all. And that you could adjust your appearance and keep it stable enough to avoid their fear of the uncanny. There was no talk of your ability to conjure objects, stable objects at that. 

The truth about your past he kept buried even deeper. He’d seen so much when you opened your mind to him, and yet so many of the memories were gray and hazy, with the details either missing or running together. Like a watercolour the images were blurred and he wasn’t sure whether it was because they were false, and badly done at that, or because something had been removed and meddled with. He was at a loss, trying to decide between whether someone would want to plant false memories, or meddle with old ones. But he had been able to establish, from his limited knowledge of Midgardian history, that you had managed to attend events some three or four hundred years before. 

He was pondering it still, lounging in his rooms, while he fiddled with his new ring, his long fingers curling around the cold metal, his perfectly manicured nail tapped on the gem, the pad of his thumb rubbed over the delicate indent made in the silver, allowing the sapphire to lay almost flush to the surface. He marvelled in its simple intricacy, you had made this for him and he’d expected it to vanish, but it hadn’t. Even when you’d both slept, sadly in your separate beds, he had expected your magic to reset when your consciousness was resting, but he’d opened his eyes that morning to the sapphire glowing back at him. 

“I thought about a real ring, I thought about drawing the metal from it and making it for you,” you’d explained, as you made your fourth lap of the building together, strolling in the mid afternoon sun while Loki pretended he couldn’t see the junior Agents that had been tailing you both for the last hour.

“That’s incredible. You understand how that’s different from, say, me making you a mirror to use once?”

“Well one is a mere illusion, I assume. The other, the ring, I thought about the metal, how it would move as I fashioned it. I thought it would fade too.” You swept a hand along the top of the neat privet hedges that lined the walkway, rustling each leaf experimentally and delighting in the way they seemed to become an even richer shade of green with each pass of your fingers. 

“The mirror is an illusion, that’s correct. The other is more elemental, summoning the metal, smelting it with your magic until it’s real - that’s a lot more advanced. I’m impressed.” 

Loki revelled in the way you became bashful  under his praise. Smiling and ducking your head away while nodding in understanding and then turning to place a soft kiss on his cheek. 

“Thank you, Loki.” You whispered, and then pulled away, leaving the path to pick a few of the errant daisies appearing around the edges of the lawn. 

You should be proud, he thought, he was so proud. It welled in him, blurring into an easy affection that had been blossoming between you both. Loki had to restrain himself from holding his hand out to you when you rejoined him, had to fight the urge to kiss the soft apples of your cheeks and the fullness of your lips. He clasped his hands behind his back.  

He wasn’t sure what dance you were both engaged in, where you could kiss his cheek with abandon but you never expected more from him and, in his confusion, he became irrationally angry at this new desire for closeness, for more than lust and satisfaction. 

Somehow you’d turned the tables on him and he wondered if this was the feeling that had been reported to him when he arrived. A drive to adore and love and consume. 

“Loki? Let’s go to the lake and practice.” You suggested, turning away from the compound and towards the glassy expanse of water on the edge of the grounds.

These lessons did not seem to quench his desire for closeness. 

During the day you would walk together in the grounds and talk about theories, practising some shape shifting skills and, when there was no one else around, attempting to summon and create other objects. 

In the evenings you were often away in your rooms, preferring isolation to observation even more since your time in the medical wing. But if the common areas were free Loki was able to coax you out and, together, you pulled on the threads of your memory. 

At night the memories morphed into dreams, wars, suffering, pain but also happiness, faces smiling at you from behind ever changing styles and locations. You would wake, sweating, as if you’d spent your night falling forever down a spiralling rabbit hole of recollections both real and imagined. 

In the mornings Loki invited you to breakfast in his rooms before your walks, allowing you a change of scenery from your much smaller bedroom. Given the chance you would spend every moment with him there. Your room felt cramped and claustrophobic, even your window was restricted from opening. But here with Loki, with his rooms full of light and air, the sun shining on you while you shared croissants, you felt alive and free for the first time. 

“I don’t like this.” Tony slammed his phone onto the table after reviewing the latest surveillance footage of Loki and - prisoner felt too cruel, but he’d yet to persuade you to join the Avengers or even engage with any of them since your time in the medical wing. 

“We can’t stop them from talking, Stark, what are you so afraid of?” Natasha sat across from him in his vast office, her boots propped on the table in front of her as she inspected her nails.

“Afraid? She sets fire to things, she’s supposed to be out protege, not the Prodigy. I have nice things here -” he paused to lean across the desk and push the assassins heel with a pen, “boots - down.” 

“She hasn’t done that since London, and besides Loki and Thor are both keeping an eye on her, she’ll come round in time. Let him mess up.” She shrugged, pulling a piece of chewing gum from the pocket of her skin tight combat trousers. 

“What if he doesn’t?” 

“Then we deal with it.” 

Tony picked up his phone again, scrolling through the corridor footage of Loki knocking on your door every morning and escorting you across the hall into his own rooms, of you both laughing together in the grounds and of no magic, no training. “What’s he even doing with her all day?” 

Natasha snorted a laugh, “who fucking cares? Seducing her? She’s a big girl, Stark, and you’re starting to sound jealous.” 

“We have Steve God Damn Rogers in this building and she’s following Shakespeare around like he’s -” 

“A god?” She snapped her gum and then left her mouth open, eyebrows raised. 

“Shut up.” 

“If you don’t stop I’m going to start assuming you’re jealous.” Natasha raised a neat eyebrow, put one foot on the table and lent back in her seat. 

“I’m not jealous we just need her back on side, maybe a gift or something, what do you think?” 

“Gifts are nice, what’re you thinking?” 

Tony strode across the office to a large cabinet built into the wall and opened the middle draw pulling out a Stark industries gift bag, “have someone rewrap these, no Stark logos, just a gift, to help with her research or something. Just make it look nice.” 

Natasha looked inside the gift bag, rummaging through the contents, she forwent the phone, socks, pens and mouse mat before settling on the tablet. “Just this, it’s flashy enough but not overally personal, and we can restrict her access - no calls, just google.” 

“Great, thanks,” Tony looked at Natasha expectantly, “do you need money for wrapping paper or something?” 

“I’m not your assistant.” Natasha smirked, handing the box back over and sauntering out of the room, “if you want to top up my account I wouldn’t say no though!” She called over her shoulder as the door slammed shut. 

You found the elegantly wrapped parcel resting on the console table next to your bedroom door when you returned from your walk with Loki. The god stood behind you, eyeing the shiny paper from over your shoulder.

“Is it your birthday, darling?” He asked, concerned he’d wasted a special day training instead of celebrating. 

“No, it’s not my birthday.”

If Loki had been suspicious it was nothing to the way you behaved, as if the parcel might jump up and bite you. Loki kept on hand on your waist, holding you close while he reached around to look at the tag, “hmm, it’s from Stark. A peace offering, perhaps. I’m sure it’s perfectly safe.” He handed it to you and encouraged you to open it. 

Inside was a sleek black box with a picture of an electronic device on, Loki was bemused but you were excited, “oh my god, a tablet!” You tore the rest of the wrapping off and, bouncing on your heels, dragged Loki back into his room so you could set it up together.  

Tony’s peace offering did nothing to help your feelings towards the team, you were still cautious, refusing to engage in conversation. But you were finally able to leave the compound, in a way, using your new tablet. You walked down streets, viewing places your memory revealed to you and searching for information on everything you saw. 

It helped your research as well, dating the dreams and memories that Loki helped you to uncover, so that you could recount the stories to him in the hopes that he might remember a detail as well. 

The farthest back you’d been able to date so far had been somewhere in the 1800s, though you were sure Loki had seen further and had kept it from you. In your dream you’d seen yourself in spring, happy and dancing, the sun rising high and warm above you as you let the dew drops of the morning wet your bare feet. 

You had told Loki, in excruciating detail, about a woman in one of these dreams. That they had been at a party with you, billowing dresses surrounding you both, suffocating you both until you found respite in the darkness of a maze in the gardens. There, you had hidden under the woman’s dress to pleasure her. 

Loki had choked on his tea as you casually recounted the story, as if you were merely describing a walk around the park with a friend, and he had excused himself to relieve the growing pressure in his trousers. 

When he returned you were talking to Thor, who was amused but otherwise unaffected by your stories, one arm thrown over the back of the couch you were sharing. A flare of jealous rose within him, but there was also something so familiar and comforting about the scene. Thor, in his half regal dress, sprawling in the pillows with you curled up next to him, your skirt a wash of colour and fabric around your knees. Between you Thor had set out a tray with his favourite Midgardian snacks, awful pastry items with sickly icing on top, as well as your beloved croissants and steaming cups of tea. 

He had flashes of other times spent in such casual and easy intimacy, summer afternoons similarly spent lounging amongst silk pillows, laughing and sharing stories together with no other care in the Nine Realms. 

You both looked up, seeing him trapped by his thoughts in the doorway, and Thor held out his hand, “come, brother, the little one was telling me about her memories, this one is particularly amusing.” You smiled at him too, shifting in your seat to create a space between you both and Loki’s heart sang, filled with that rare feeling of contentment that had eluded him for so long. 

Yet Loki wasn’t the only one affected by your presence. Bucky and Natasha continued to feel uncomfortable around you, despite your generally genial nature. Thoughts both soft and wanton swirled and eddied around the minds of the Avengers, causing chaos in their work and interpersonal lives until the common areas were almost always empty, each inhabitant choosing to spend their time alone instead.

They brushed past each other in the corridors, blushing furiously and stammering like children. 

That was okay with you, it suited you to be mostly alone, especially as you only really liked to talk to Thor and Loki anyway. It had taken you longer to warm to Thor, but he was kind, if not a little too loud, and he never looked at you with fear, only intrigue. You felt safe in his presence, familial and calm. With Loki there was always a draw, a fire that pulled the oxygen from the room when he entered and you craved the sensation of his presence, the way it tingled on your skin. 

To the Avengers you said very little and, where possible, referred all your answers or conversation through the two Gods. Thor was quick to take your side, his booming voice a protection from whatever anxiety gripped you when questions were directed your way, and Loki was as fierce as a viper, waiting to strike quickly and with clean, cutting, precision, leaving the other party stinging from his words. 

Thor found himself enamoured with your presence too, mostly because Loki seemed to be behaving himself for once, too afraid of being removed from the compound to do more than snap viciously. Focused and confident without the brash, over reaching aggression that was often his downfall. It was good to see him happy and well, and Thor enjoyed teasing him about his obviously deeper feelings. But he was pleased because there seemed to be a natural understanding between the three of you, something setting you all apart from the others, and though he knew Loki was keeping something from him, he was sure it wouldn’t be long before the two of you let slip your secrets. 

It was how you’d found yourself standing in the dry grass at the centre of the compound, the pattern still burnt into the sod from Thor and Loki’s arrival, with both Gods flanking you.

“See how I can use the magic to call my battle armour.” Thor’s voice echoed from the flat surfaces of the buildings surrounding them. With a flash of lightning Thor summoned  the red cape and metal plate armour that was his battle dress. 

Loki was next, his familiar magic glowing around him as his black shirt and trousers changed into fine, forest green leather, his gold headpiece in his hand. He flipped it and winked, “your turn.” Before balancing the towering horns atop his head. 

It was one thing to witness their Asgardian dress on the television, but quite another to see it in real life. Thor was larger than life, bright and bold, every bit the Prince of Asgard, his hammer swinging at his side. But Loki - Loki had taken your breath away. It was as if the horns and cape had made him taller somehow, impossibly imposing in a way that had you curling your toes in your trainers to stop your legs from pressing together. Every piece of golden armour curled around him like a lover's embrace, showing his broad shoulders and lean body off to advantage. In the brisk early summer wind his cape caught the breeze, billowing behind him and framing him in deep, forest green and revealing the tight fit of his leather trousers. You swallowed and snapped your eyes back to his, not missing the playful smirk that crossed his lips. 

“Oh, I don’t think I could do anything like that, how do you know I even have any of this -” you waved at them both - “in me?” The idea seemed crazy, there was no way you could bring out anything even close to the regal majesty of the Asgardians. 

“Call it an inkling, mere mortals couldn’t - but then, you are no mere mortal.” Loki stepped towards you.

“We have no idea what I am.” 

“Exactly, it’ll be fun.” Thor clapped a meaty hand on your shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze, “what’s the worst that could happen!?” 

You thought back to the car burning outside of your flat, of the people you’d scared and the ability to even change the colour of your fingernails fizzled away in fear. 

Sensing your distress Loki brushed Thor aside and cupped your face in his long, dexterous fingers. Gently he angled your head up until all you could see was his beautiful face, framed with whips of jet black hair. He looked every bit a God as he commanded your attention. 

“Just try,” he murmured, and you followed his lips as they opened and closed, mesmerised by the movement. 

“Okay.” You nodded.

Loki watched as you concentrated, your hands clenched and eyes closed as always, your clothes shimmered and then, from the depths of nowhere, they changed. It wasn’t quite the same bold and majestic outfits as the Gods, but you had managed to summon a tight, dark blue jumpsuit and black cloak, a silver headband held your hair away from your face and pinched just behind your ears. Far from a perfect fit, but a lot more than you’d anticipated being able to produce. 

“Very stylish!” Thor boomed, a wide smile on his face. But you couldn’t help but feel disappointed. You had secretly hoped to discover a weapon, a crown like they wore, even some armour. It was an impressive outfit to create from nothing, but that’s all it was, an outfit, not the warrior armour of a God. 

Sensing your distress Loki held you once more, his long fingers touching the soft velvet of your cloak, “it is all practice. These things will come in time.” He murmured and, throwing caution to the wind still tugging on his hair, he kissed the top of your head.

When Thor left the next day he took the temperate weather with him, leaving behind a solid week of rain. 

Instead of taking turns around the garden you confined yourself to the compound, finally brave enough to stake a claim to the large sofa in the common room while the Avengers were home. You had thankfully found a new app with crosswords on your tablet and, listening to the rain fall against the large glass windows, you’d allowed yourself to become lost in your puzzle until Loki sat down across from you. 

“You know how you can see my memories,” you asked, eyes still fixed on the black and white pattern in front of you. 

“Yes?” Loki answered but didn’t look up from his book either. Out of the corner of your eye you saw him lick his finger to turn the page. 

“Do you think I could see yours?”

Loki put the book in his lap to look over at you, studying you closely. Curled into the corner of the sofa, feet drawn up under you. Since your attempt at summoning armour you’d managed to create your own clothes every day this week and you were rightly proud of it. 

You had told him you were never allowed to shop when you lived with your grandfather, the man, whoever he was. You had three of four basic items that were brought in for you periodically. But now you had found fashion blogs online the limits seemed endless, you spent your mornings recreating the outfits gleefully. 

Today was a simple day, just little black shorts and an oversized knit jumper that fell below your wrists and to Loki you looked so…Midgardian. He hated himself for enjoying it but, as he looked down at his own black jeans and the heavy knit of his sweater, he hated himself all over again for not realising what an influence you had over him.

Silence filled the room and Loki became aware that he had taken too long to answer and if he didn’t say something soon you were sure to come up with an even worse idea. 

“Oh! Or, better, if we can see each other’s memories, do you think we could hear each other's thoughts? Imagine. And we could play tricks on people. That’d be so funny!” You were grinning to yourself now, still tapping at the screen and chewing on your thumb, but with a wide smile on your face.

The last thing he needed was you in his head. Not when his head was so consumed with thoughts of you. Just the night before you’d worn tight black jeans and a sage green translucent silk blouse to dinner and he had almost turned round and walked back out to hide his pink cheeks and filthy thoughts, if you could hear the depraved things that cycled through his mind you’d never want to come near him again. 

And that would never do. 

Not when you were more than happy to climb into his lap while he opened your memories, not when you kissed his cheek so softly, so chastly that he wanted to hold you there against him. 

“Nevermind,” you mumbled, poking at the screen of your tablet and pulling the sleeves of your sweater down over your hands, “we don’t have to. I’m sure there’s lots of other things to learn.” 

“No - no, we can try, if you’d like? Perhaps it will help us both understand the memories better.” 

Loki thought his heart might beat out of his chest, he would have to be so careful, one wrong thought, one wrong step and he could spoil everything that you’d been building together. His every hand so far had been well played, but he still felt you were gaining on him with every memory returned, whether you knew it or not. 

“Great!” You tossed the tablet onto the sofa cushions and shuffled closer to him. He stayed where he was, legs on the table in front of him. “Come on,” you tugged his arm until you were both crossed legged on the sofa, facing each other. 

“Go on then,” Loki’s mouth twitched upwards into a teasing smirk.

“Well, I can’t just do it! You’re supposed to help me!”

“Put your hands on my face,” he brought your palms up to his cheeks, fingers on his temples and applied the smallest amount of pressure.

“Okay,” you closed your eyes and Loki felt the tickling feeling of your prying at the edges of his mind, like the picking of a label from a glass bottle and he allowed his mind to open just a little. 

“I can do it - stop cheating.” You made a frustrated noise and shuffled in your seat. “Stop moving!

“I’m not moving,” Loki laughed, “that’s you!”

“Your brain is.”

Loki’s laugh deepened and he bent forwards into your hands. “How is that possible?”

“Stay. Still.”

With another grunt of annoyance you climbed into his lap, maintaining contact with his face, as you wriggled into position Loki took in a deep breath, willing his body to stay calm while your entire being pressed against him, not just your hands and your body, but your mind too. Clinging and clawing at his own. And there, in his panic, you peeled away a corner and slipped into his thoughts. 

“There you are.” You whispered, reverently. 

Loki fumbled for a thought that he could share with you, but all he could see, feel, think about was the way your bare thighs were pressed against his hips. 

About the way you would slip your hand into his and squeeze it when you were nervous at the dinner table. 

About the way you kissed his cheek and wished him goodnight like you truly cared for him.

They had warned him, The Captain and the Iron one and the others, they had all warned him to be careful of you. Yet here he was, mind and body open to you. 

Your eyes darkened, fingers digging into his temples and an image appeared in return. It was almost the same as Loki’s, except as the thought appeared, your clothes melted away revealing only soft flesh, curves and dimples, pebbled nipples and the hard length of him sinking into the warmth of you.

Loki opened his eyes slowly, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips. Well, that was interesting.

“Hmm,” you moaned, somewhere between pensive and lustful and for the first time Loki doubted whether your guileless touches were real or faked, “I’m sure we can think of some fun things to do with that skill,” and you climbed off his lap leaving him confused again.

Loki stood abruptly and grabbed at your wrist, yanking you close, his nose brushed yours as he held you to him.

“Of all your tricks, you must not tell them you can do that,” he insisted, his nose traced yours and then he kissed you, his tongue sliding against your own, tasting, owning, his teeth biting and  filling your mind with thoughts of him again. 

“Do what?” Natasha asked and you broke apart, throwing yourself backwards across the cushions to get as far away from Loki as possible. 

You panicked, “uhm -”

“She can shapeshift better now, but I don’t want you using her, she’s not ready. So don’t tell the others.” Loki snapped, smile gone and stern, blank face secured. 

Natasha looked pleased nevertheless. “Good we can use that - eventually” she placated, before Loki could react. “We have a mission, but it’s not for a while.”

Loki looked over at you, eyes on your crossword again. He did not want you going on missions and bonding with the super friends, he wanted you out of her, with him, safe and secure..

What was that?!

Did you not like it?

That’s not what I said ásynja

You smiled and flicked yours eyes at him. Then at Natasha.

Ask her how Bucky is

The thought floated towards him.

Why?

For fun

Well, he did like fun.

“Agent Romanoff, how is Sergeant Barnes today?” Natasha whipped her head around, glaring.

“I have no idea.” She snapped.

“Oh, nevermind then,” Loki went back to his book, turning the page slowly.

Ask her if the bruise has gone down

Darling, let’s not play with fire - 

The bruise! On her neck!

The thought was as clear as a bell ringing in his mind. Would you always be connected this closely? He should have considered how he’d lock you back out again. 

“I do hope his bruise is healing well,” Loki looked from his book to the window and then back at Natasha, the picture of nonchalance. “It’s such a nuisance to have such a thing upon one’s neck.”

“Right” Natasha put her hands on her knees and stood up, “I’m out of here.”

You looked at Natasha again, really looked, and images of Natasha and Bucky pressed against the kitchen counter bubbled to the surface. You bit the tip of your tongue to stop from saying anything to hinder their progress. You’d felt it as soon as they were in a room together, like air pressure before a storm, building and sparking. Hopefully they were finally figuring things out and you’d be able to breathe again. 

Natasha left the room, banging her bedroom door as she went.

“That was fun, you were right.” 

“I know, but I do really hope things work out for her. I can’t explain it, I get this feeling to match people up and they so obviously like each other.” You sighed, dreamily. 

“Lots of people like matchmaking, you just need more hobbies.” Loki did not consider matchmaking to be an interesting hobby, but he wouldn’t say quite that much.

“It’s more than that, it’s like I really can’t help it. That’s why they don’t like me, I made them dream about each other.” 

Loki put his book down again. 

“Does it feel like it comes from somewhere deep inside, like when you use your magic?” He asked, seriously, “or is it because you are naturally very vexing?” He grinned.

You threw a cushion at him, “I’m not vexing, other people are just boring.”

That was certainly true, he smiled.

“See, glad you agree with me.” Damn he was going to have to be careful with his thoughts now.

<<Part 4

Part 6 >>

[lolitarecolors]

Hi everybody!

I wanted to say a big thank you to everyone who sent a message or made a comment asking me to continue with the sims 2 content.

After many tries, I had to reset my computer, and I ended up losing a few things along the way. But I'm trying to keep going, and today I woke up inspired and decided to bring new content.

This set was stored in my list for a long time and I decided to change it. I loved the end result and I hope you do too.

DOWNLOAD

http://www.simfileshare.net/download/3764783/

ADD ON (LoveSeat)

https://www.thesimsresource.com/artists/Mutske/downloads/details/category/sims2-sets-objects/title/karlstad-add-ons/id/846879/

** Maxis Match object. **

I hope like it like I did.

[crookedlyinnernightmare]

ok i want to jot down some quick notes on kusuo's restoration ability. Kusuo says in the above panel that he needs to restore his target's body before the pain reaches their brain, which implies that his restoration power doesn't work on the brain. That, and the fact that people don't typically lose their memories when he reverses time on them (see: kuniharu begging kusuo to heal him after he stubs his toe). Memories are just pathways in the brain, so they should be reset if this power actually affected them.

I've wondered if, perhaps, the brain is immune to his power, but i think that's a backwards way of thinking about it. Rather than proposing the brain to have a Special Feature™ which renders Kusuo's restoration power null, i think it's way more likely that Kusuo's powers are making the active decision to skip over them.

So. why would this be? I think it has to do with the drawback he mentions in chapter 9:

When using restoration, "all the things nearby also end up affected." That description might be a little deceptive because it's easy to assume that "nearby" means everything within a certain radius will be affected, but in later chapters that's clearly not the case. Take this section from chapter 103:

When Kusuo restored the hole he made in this wall, his power travelled across the length of the wall, but did not extend perpendicularly to affect the people, houses, street, etc. near it. So it may be more accurate to say that when Kusuo tries to restore an object, his powers will automatically identify that object as one small part of a larger system, and then proceed to reverse time on that entire system.

Typically, this is a very intuitive process. Reverse time on a wall, his entire house gets restored. Reverse time on his video game controller, his entire gaming setup will be restored. Reverse time on the volcano, the entire Earth will be restored. However, the brain vs body situation is not intuitive.. or at least not to me at first glance. But for Kusuo, it may well be.

A huge part of Kusuo's worldview is dominated by the difference between people's thoughts, and people's actions. Brain vs. Body. That sentiment is the very first thing we see in chapter 1:

Even in Volume 0, when Saiki only existed as a series of oneshots, before serialization. Chapter 0.1 is all about Kusuo's telepathy. And we're greeted with panels like this:

which display a huge gap between appearance and thought. Many major characters also play into this concept: Nendo (looks thuggish but can be very kind), Teruhashi (appears perfect, is not), Kuusuke (displays himself as a charming and trustworthy graduate of cambridge, is actually verrry fucked up), etc. Kusuo himself hides his psychic, genius brain behind a facade of normalcy. It's an absolutely fundamental aspect of the series.

So again, why shouldn't Kusuo feel a distinct separation between the brain and the rest of the body? And why shouldn't this belief express itself through one of his most used powers? His powers aren't some separate, unknowable entity doing whatever they want to inconvenience him- they are him. And I think this is a good example of that.

sidenote: a silly little scenario i've considered before is whether kusuo could make someone effectively immortal by reversing time on them every day, but since his powers skip over the brain, I'm now sure the answer to that question is "no." Unless, of course, he made an effort to access the brain directly, but even with all the dark stuff in this show, i don't think kusuo's ever reached into someone's skull to get directly at their gray matter. now wouldn't that be something..

[itsgodepi]

If I lose my mind | Ch. 6

Series summary: When you're buried under a mountain of problems and can’t seem to catch a break, it might feel like you need a complete reset. But did it really have to come with a one-way ticket to a new dimension? Surely, a little problem-solving would’ve done the trick. Or, one day you go to sleep as a normal person and the next you wake up as a Formula One driver. You've never been a fan but isn't it like, one of the most exclusive sports? Pairing: CL16, LH44, CS55, DR3 x fem!reader Chapter: Previous | Next Word Count: 2.8k Also on AO3

It is stupid really, the little things you do to reassure yourself that this is not the reality. You found an article the second or third day in France whose headline read something like How to tell if you’re dreaming: 5 steps (with pictures) —yes, it’s from wikiHow, so what? Your mind is playing tricks on you so you won’t believe the important sources—, and you have been following it like a ritual ever since. 

For example, it says to always check your environment for distortions, that appearances can be deceiving in the dream world. And although it talks about your house being different from what you remember or objects looking strange, being in a completely different country from where to sleep in seems to fit that description just fine. 

Another step had been to test your strength and abilities, if you can fly or lift extremely heavy objects, you are clearly not awake. You are not ready to admit the number of times you have tried jumping off the hotel bed and levitating without success, but you would say driving a Formula One car is quite a remarkable skill to learn overnight. 

The one stage you had not been able to get past had been to consider other people around you and analyze whether their presence made sense or not. From the beginning you have been surrounded by strangers, Nick and what he calls the team, journalists and other drivers. This combined with the fact that you have not been able to contact your family or friends yet, has made this step the trickiest one to overcome, nobody during these past few days being able to really tip you off.  

That is until you saw the fucking Fernado Alonso strolling into the drivers’ briefing like it was nobody’s business. 

You had never been too interested in Formula One, the races and everything surrounding the sport honestly bored you, but that was one thing and not recognizing Fernando Alonso when he is literally sitting in front of you was a completely different one. Your father would kill you if that had been the case, how could you not recognize the Spanish driver who you had spent countless afternoons seeing your dad and uncles cheering for when you were a child? It made no sense. So, although he now wore a different team’s shirt —the characteristic blue clothes you remember, nowhere to be seen— and had shorter hair, you were 100% sure of who he was.  

The man’s presence alone managing to convince you once and for all that this was not real. 

That is why, now that you are back in the paddock, jumpsuit zipped almost all the way up and a smile on your lips for the camera, you feel somewhat calm. You have made it through a third practice and the qualifying session in one piece, all ready and prepared to fulfill your media duties in front of more strangers like this is an everyday thing. No recollection of the hours you’ve been seated in that deathtrap of a car fighting for P15, not a single memory of the other car whose lap you supposedly impeded, no nothing.  

It is not a good result, you are aware of that, but you are hoping to win a few positions in the race tomorrow and maybe the first points of your career. Well, that is what you are advised to tell the interviewers at least, how the car is working great under these conditions or something like that. You cannot remember half of the script at this point, but you had done well enough when you were under the spotlight. 

Thankfully, Saturday’s activities have finally come to an end, only a couple social media videos left to record and you will be on your way back to the hotel in no time. The garage is almost empty at this hour, a few mechanics hanging around, taking a last look at the car and organizing everything they need for tomorrow’s race. Nothing compared to the first time you stepped inside building.  

The media coordinator is running late, the whole filming crew is. They were supposed to be in the garage before you even finished the media conference, taking some shots of the car and speeding off the process so you could have some rest before tomorrow’s race. And yet, here you are, trying your best not to doze off in one of those uncomfortable highchairs near the screens while Nick tries to sort things out. He had instantly gone in her search when you arrived, muttering something under his breath as he stormed out of the garage. 

It is not like more than ten minutes have passed really, but the jumpsuit and fitted clothes you wear underneath are killing you. You should have changed without permission, get onto some nice clean clothes before they came back. What is the worst that can happen? A person made up by your imagination is going to come and scold you? 

“Oh, you’re still here!” a soft voice wakes you up from your thoughts, your eyes tiredly trailing through the garage to see where it is coming from.  

Must be someone from the team coming to see what the mechanics are doing, the men still fixing things here and there when half of the pack has already gone back home to rest for the biggest even of the weekend. You would feel bad for them were they not literal products of your imagination. 

However, after fighting with your sleepy brain for a bit, you realize that you recognize that voice, your gaze searching with renewed energy for the man in question. What is Charles doing here?  

You find the driver walking into the garage through the pitlane’s door, his red jumpsuit still hanging from his hips and his hair a mess. His tired smile is contagious, your own coming to play on your lips as he nears your seat. You try to pick up the things you had hazardously thrown in the chair next to yours, thinking he might want to take a seat after the long round of interviews he must gone through, but you soon understand he has a very different idea in his mind.  

Before you can even react or greet him with more than a simple “Hi”, the man is pulling you into a big hug, his arms wrapping around your waist as his face comes to hide on the crook of your neck. Charles lets his full weight rest on your body, your highchair giving him the perfect opportunity to do so as he stands between your legs, like he cannot keep himself upright any longer. “Haven’t seen you all day...” Charles sighs into your shoulder, squeezing your body tighter as if he was letting go of all the accumulated stress, slowly relaxing his hold after a few seconds. 

Confusion paints your features, your arms awkwardly resting over his shoulders while you try to figure out what the hell is he doing.  

It is strange, the sense of familiarity that his touch brings you, the way he molds himself to your body as his thumbs draws circles on your lower back making you feel so at peace. You try to push all those feelings down with a frown, patting him on the back and trying to squirm out of his hold.  

The man seems to not be ready to let go off you though, simply relaxing himself in your arms like this is not literally the third time you have ever seen each other. Charles has been nice to you in the few encounters you have had and all, but that does not make this sudden invasion of your personal space any less weird. And it is not like you are alone either, the mechanics moving around the two of you like this is no big deal, not a second glance at the situation you got yourself into. 

“Com'è andata la giornata?” Charles whispers after a while, voice muffled by the collar of your top since he refuses to break the hug.  

What did he say? Did he just... speak in a whole different language? It is bad enough that you are dreaming in English..., this is getting ridiculous. Are you just going crazy in your sleep or something? 

“Hm?” you confusedly answer, both to gain some more time to make sense of what he asked about and to leave room for him to repeat the question. Maybe you didn’t hear him right? Yeah, that must be it. 

Charles chuckles onto your skin “Troppo stanca per rispondere?”, the soft graze of his breath over your skin making you shiver, hairs standing on end.  

What is he doing? Treating you like you are best friends or something when you are not even acquaintances in the first place, and while he keeps talking to you in a language you do not understand, mind you. 

The man finally puts some space between the two of you after the total lack of response, his face emerging from your neck so you can be face to face. Nonetheless, his hands still come to claim a place on each side of you, leaning into your personal space without a care in the world around you. You can’t even get off the chair because he is in the way!  

There is a silly smile playing on his lips while all this thoughts bubble in your mind, his head tilting to the side as he continues “Or have you already given up on Monza?” 

“I guess I have” you manage to respond after the initial shock, the high-pitched tone of your voice betraying your nerves and giving away just how unsure you are of what exactly he is talking about. You make a mental note to look up what this Monza thing means in case he brings it up at some point, or maybe you should simply run away from him if he is going to pulls something like this again. 

“It was too soon anyway,” Charles shakes his head, regarding you with such a soft look that you almost forget he is a stranger, his actions confusing you even further “You’re putting too much pressure on yourself, there’s no rush... We can practice over the break, just study a bit more and we’ll see how it goes” 

And since you are completely lost in the conversation, you decide to give a simple “Okay” as your response.  

You have mixed feelings about the interaction, the bittersweet taste it left behind coming to hunt you when you spot him the next day. Of course you were going to see him, he is a driver and today is race day, but that does not make it any better. You have felt so alone this past week, missing your loved ones locked away within the four walls of the hotel room, that although his proximity had been completely unwarranted and unwanted when he first hugged you, something inside you started missing his warmth as soon as he stepped away. 

Images of yours and Charles conversation keep playing over and over in your mind as you walk through the rows of Formula One cars, back into your race suit while you get through the mass of mechanics and cameras filling the road. The car is already formed up on the grid —yes, you have incorporated some F1 concepts into your vocabulary after all the research—, the prerace activities having finished a while ago and the worse part of the day looming over you. 

Charles is standing at the front, in that area separated from the rest of the road by white barriers, talking with a taller man that you do not remember ever seeing before. The big logo on his chest gives you some clues though, the two bulls facing each other painted on his race suit giving away which team he drives for. A Red Bull driver.  

It is nice to finally understand the whole color coordination stuff between the car and your clothes, courtesy of the hours you have spent behind the screen researching about the sport. There are ten teams with two drivers competing for each one of them, some of their logos easily recognizable while others —like the one engraved on your shirt for example— are impossible to remember. Don’t know half the driver’s names yet still, only had time to search for mister Carlos Sainz’s whole biography after what happened in the drivers briefing. He is also Spanish, a fact that heavily surprises you, either your mind has made this person up or your father talked about him enough that his presence in the sport has stuck in your subconscious. 

You decide not to walk towards the two men when you enter the area, not because of what transpired yesterday between you and Charles or out of shyness, but due to the strange behavior he has been exhibiting since this morning. Not only him, but all the other drivers you had previously met as well. While they all had been overly familiar and playful with you during Saturday’s meeting, they seemed to be avoiding you throughout both the prerace activities and now the ceremony.  

Everyone except for Lewis. 

When you had come out onto the track for the first time that day, made to walk alongside your teammate, Mick, to one of the vintage cars that would be taking you on a lap around the circuit, you had felt fairly uncomfortable. Mick had not uttered a single word to you outside of the meetings and interviews, only ever greeting you when there were cameras around and even then, it was easy to see how forced it was. It is not like Mick was being hostile or rude towards you, his comments about you always polite and short, it felt more like he was indifferent. The driver preferred to keep you at an arm's length if possible. However, even that indifference felt like a slap to the face when you were surrounded by strangers pushing cameras into your space. 

So, although Lewis had his own army of microphones and videographers at his back when he came over to greet you, in your eyes the man looked like your own personal saviour.  

Who could blame you for the way you gravitated towards him later on in the private area? Away from your teammate and those other drivers that had not dared to send more than a tight smile your way when your eyes accidentally met. On the other hand, Lewis had always been welcoming, a source of calmness that managed to make you forget about everything happening around you even if just for a second. 

“I wanted to stay back for a few days, go to a show in Cannes, but then I’d have to fly straight to Hungary...” Lewis complains, arms crossed over his chest as he walks you to your designated spots on the road 

“I can’t wait to leave, honestly” you confess with a chuckle, surprising yourself with the way you are treating the matter of flying from one country to another every week with such apparent normalcy. Well, amid all this chaos, with twenty Formula one cars at your backs and thousands of people watching from the grandstands, taking a flight is one of the most normal things you have experienced so far. 

Lewis lips stretch into a big smile at your outburst of sincerity, his dark eyes crinkling at the sides “I see you didn’t like France at all” 

“It’s not that...” you try to justify yourself; it is not like you had seen much of the country in this past week either, your schedule tight enough as it is to try and also squeeze some sightseeing in there.  

Would Nick have allowed it anyway? The man had kept you on a short leash since day one, only granting you some alone time at night and even then, he knew exactly where to find you. The happiness with which Lewis recounts his trips around France and recommends a few places to visit before you leave on Tuesday, makes you miss that newfound freedom you had experienced during your external practices in Spain, the taste of that amazing adult life they had been promising you since before you started the university. 

Truly, not everything in this new stage of your life had been as incredible as they had portrayed it, those liberties came with harsh responsibilities that you were clearly not handling well. Are you seriously whining about not having time to walk through the beautiful streets of this French city when you would be incapable of travelling here on your own in the first place? You are only ‘here’ because you are living through the longest and weirdest dream you have ever had, this city does not exist, the floor you are standing on is not real and you have most probably made up all that information you have gathered in those sleepless nights. 

And last, but clearly not least, the realization that for some reason overwhelms you the most and marks the rest of the ceremony: Lewis is not real either. 

Next chapter

___

Author's note: it's so nice seeing you're enjoying the fic, I hope you liked this chapter as well. Thank you all so much for reading!!

Taglist: @purplephantomwolf @raye2000 @yuiiimd @drezzerk33 @leclercdream @homie0sapien @minkyungseokie @carlossainzwho @rewmuslupin @kyuupidwrites @raevyng @lazybot @gills-lounge @hiraethrhapsody @jjkclub

[dollwrites]

𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ∣ smut ( minors dni ), android!reader, creator!rui, free use, rui is soft!dark and self serving, manipulation, gaslighting, threats of a reset, fingering ( r!receiving ), accidentally angsty, all characters featured are aged 18+

𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁 ∣ please reblog && leave feedback. not proofread so there’s probably mistakes. thanks for reading < 3

𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗸𝘁𝗼𝗯𝗲𝗿 𝟮𝟬𝟮𝟯 ∣ day fifteen [ rui kamishiro + free use ]

from the very moment you opened your eyes, you were certain of what you were programmed for. it was an objective, and even before Rui held your hands and talked you through your first task, you knew you’d been built, designed, and brought into existence for his pleasure and that alone.

you didn’t mind, not that you could ( at first ), when he’d pay little attention to you, his hand lazily wandering and fondling your body if his nose was buried in a book or his focus was on his phone or a new invention. after all, you were programmed to be willing and ready whenever he needed or wanted a release, and yet..?

yet, you found your desire for his golden gaze on you more often. when he wasn’t touching you at all, when he was sleeping or gone off with his friends, you sat alone in the dark and thought about him. missed him.

and, for the first time since your creation, when you had nuzzled close to him in hopes he would play with you as you were intended to be toyed with, and he told you he didn’t feel like it, you’d wept.

Rui had begun to take notice of your growing sentience, and was sympathetic when you tried to explain to him that you wanted to be more than his free-use doll now. you could be his woman; you’d seen such arrangements on television— a lady and her man in love. you’d become aware of dating and marriage. you wanted those things with Rui, too.

“You must be very confused,” he purrs, pulling you atop his lap. you sink into the position as if it were second nature, and rest your head on his chest. you listened to his heart beating, oblivious to the fact that you didn’t have a matching thump. “You’ve been so clingy lately, my sweetie. You’re starting to feel and think things you don’t understand, aren’t you?”

you nod, keeping your eyes closed as you listen to his sugar-coated baritone rumble in his throat as he croons to you.

“You’re starting to want me to pay attention to you all the time, yes? You want me to play with you more?”

when you nod again, he hums.

“Ah? But that is not what you exist for. Is it, sweetness?”

his fingers dance over your back underneath your top, the dull edge of his clean nails tickling your skin.

“I know you’re starting to… love me, but you can’t start thinking about things like dating, marriage, or having children for yourself. That’s dangerous, my sweet.”

“Dangerous?”

“Mhm,” he continues, his fingers dipping below the waistband of your skirt, palms pressing against your bare ass and massaging. “And it will only hurt you more. I didn’t want to have to tell you this, but you’re not capable of these things.” as he speaks, one hand runs back up to guide your chin up so you’re face to face, inches from his lips, while the other digits worm their way between your folds, rubbing your core. your eyes are wide, but not from the fondling. you didn’t know that you couldn’t have a family. “That’s why I didn’t program you to desire these things. Because I didn’t want to hurt you. I designed you to enjoy the things you can have with me. Things like this.” as he coos to you, he pushes his middle two fingers into you, curling them slow and skillfully. you mewl, staring into his amber eyes with your own big and your lips parted. “Now, that feels good, doesn’t it?”

“Y-yes—“

Rui chuckles and nods, leaning forward to press a half kiss against your lips as he prods deeper with his fingers in a lazy rhythm. “This is what you and I can have. I’m happy with this, aren’t you? I can make your body feel tingly and good, so why are you thinking about anything else?” your body starts to wind against his, trying to push your ass back into the rhythm at which his fingers fuck you, moaning and whimpering his name and begging for more kisses, your mouth desperately smearing itself over his.

“B-but… I love you…” you whine, and when you do, his thumb presses against your swollen clit, rubbing in rough circles, to break your train of thought.

“Shh, shh, shh…” he murmurs against your temple as your head droops forward and you kiss and suck at his jawline, desperate to hear him say it back to you. you just wanted to know that he loved you, too. “You are so naive, my sweet. So oblivious. It’s all right, I will take care of you. I’ll remind you of your purpose. You’re my favorite, little plaything, and I can’t have your silly, little head filling up with daydreams that might corrupt your programming, can I?” prodding the hyper-sensitive nerves he knew to be there ( he’d put you together, after all ), he swoons when you start to babble and moan, your eyes rolling back in your head. “There we go, prettiest toy. This is how I like you. Docile. Obedient. Brainless. Wet and ready to play when I want you.” his free hand pets the top of your head, pushing your hair back from your face to see your contorted countenance as he hums and smiles. “Now, you’re not as far gone as I feared. Perhaps I won’t have to reset you, after all.”

[rhiaarrow]

Honestly while the idea of qBad having canonically been killed to the point of resetting by falling down the stairs is objectively hilarious my brain conjured up a scenario;

I just keep imagining Bad just getting so frustrated at staircases back when they were in their early development stages. Back when people would build them precariously up the sides of cliffs or hills with no guard rails and half the time the stones were uneven or not supported fully and wouldn't support you when you tried to use them.

So when he did finally actually fall on a set of stairs and woke up back at his place of reincarnation, he just looked at the way back to the mortal realm and went

"Welp, at least that's never gonna happen again."

And went back along with his life happy in the knowledge that he no longer had to be careful when using those ridiculously dangerous things that humans called stairs. Because once he died to it once he can seemingly never die to it again from what we've learnt about how his deaths seem to work :D

[abarbaricyalp]

hey! interrupting with a kiss and sambucky for the intimacy prompts, please and thank you <3

Hi! Thanks for the prompt!

Sam watched Bucky haul Kate Bishop off of the ground with a gladiator hold. He practically lifted her off of her feet in the process, but Sam was pretty certain Bishop welcomed the relief from having to stand.

"Okay, that was a good practice," he said as he stepped back from her and reset his stance. "Now actually try the move."

Bishop blew a loose piece of hair from her face and kept an irritated look on Bucky. "Nobody can move you," she accused.

"Lots of people can move me. Lots of Widows could take me down. You gonna let Belova have bragging rights?"

A walnut hit Bishop in the forehead from somewhere in the rafters. Bishop turned her glare up towards the structure, but not for long because Bucky rushed at her during the moment of distraction.

Bishop was quick on her feet and had a brute force about her. Sam really thought she'd be able to take someone out with a stapler if she needed to. Despite extensive training in various self defenses, though, she had not quite figured out how to hold her own in a fistfight.

She threw herself to the side, forgoing the defense-turned-offense grip that Bucky had been trying to teach her. She went for his leg instead, kicking his knee out, which did send him down. But she forgot she didn't have her bow and, in the split second she spent reaching for her arrows, he'd spun on his knee and tackled her down to the mat again.

"Wrong," he said, not even a little winded.

When they'd decided to reopen the Avengers Campus, Bucky had been adamant he wasn't going to be anyone's teacher. But then he'd seen one of the training sessions Monica helmed when she was free to. And it wasn't even that she'd done anything wrong. She just hadn't done it the way Bucky wanted. And now Bucky was the defense trainer.

"Can Cap even do this?" Bishop asked in a wheeze.

"Of course Sam can do this," Bucky scoffed, like she'd offended him by asking.

"I want to see it."

Sam grinned a little and shoved himself off of the stack of tumble mats he'd been watching from. Bucky called them perches, which Sam objected to vocally but secretly kind of like. He helped Kate to her feet again. By the time she'd retreated to the edge of the mat, Belova had rejoined her on the ground. They watched with glee that they didn't even try to hide.

"You sure you're tried of winning, old man?" Sam asked, bouncing around to Bucky's right side as he shook his arms out.

Bucky grinned at him, svelte and predatory. "I'll let you win in a little while," he promised. "Gonna protect my image first though. Can't give it to you right away."

"Uh-huh," Sam agreed drily. "You said the same thing about your chastity too, but that didn't stand up."

Bucky barked out a laugh. "There was nothing chaste about me by the time you found me."

"Oh, that makes what happened after even more embarrassing. What was it, two minutes after I touched you?"

Bucky laughed sharply again, which was all the warning Sam got before he lunged at Sam and Sam got to deploy the move that Bucky was trying to teach the younger heroes. He deflected Bucky by the shoulder, which was about as hard as Bishop had made it out to be actually, and put his foot in front of Bucky's at the same time he barred his arm across Bucky's throat.

They went down hard. Bucky managed to get Sam's right arm under him, leaning heavily into Sam's ribs and rolling so Sam's hip ground into the mat below them. But Sam had his arm around Bucky's neck, squeezing tight enough to make the vein in his temple come out, which usually only happened when he was losing a videogame.

"So, you're kind of right," Sam called over to Bishop. He was trying to casual and conversational, but Bucky was really digging his elbow back into Sam's ribs. "This move isn't great for someone like Bucky, who doesn't have to breathe as much as the rest of us. But lots of people aren't gonna be able to break this before you can knock them out."

Like he was on a cue, Bucky wrenched Sam's arm off of his neck and tossed Sam across the mat. Sam rolled out of his sprawl and hoped it looked intentional. They paced around each other again. Bucky was still grinning as he adjusted his workout tanktop.

"I can show her what it's really supposed to look like," he threatened. "You ever seen someone get choked out?" he asked Bishop.

"Duh," her and Belova said at the same time.

His eyes only flickered over to them for the barest split-second, but Sam jumped at him right then anyway. He tried to make the offense as straight-on as possible so it wouldn't be so easy for Bucky to get him off course.

Bucky didn't try. He let Sam hit him head on, but didn't give up an inch in recoil. It was like hitting a brick wall. A brick wall with a really good chest.

Sam didn't even get to groan before Bucky had slammed him into the mat, kneeling on one knee as he held Sam down with his metal arm locked into place.

Sam futilely tried to shove at Bucky's wrist, even though he knew it was useless.

"If you're fighting someone your size, this isn't so bad, especially if you have backup or a weapon to grab," Bucky told the young women over his shoulder. His voice sounded conversational, the asshole. "But I wouldn't really suggest it for someone bigger--"

Sam reached up for the back of Bucky's head and yanked him down. Bucky's body seemed to course correct all on its own, without his input. One minute he was holding Sam down like a dummy doll. The next, he was loose and open, kissing Sam like they were at home.

As soon as his arm unlocked, Sam had them flipped over and sat astride Bucky's hips, holding his wrists tightly between both of his hands. Bucky's scowl melted away into a proud glee instead.

"Now, that's cheating, sweetheart."

"Cheating is always a fine way to win a fight," Sam told the other heroes without looking away from Bucky.

"So, is the kissing imperative in this maneuver?" Antonia Dreykov asked boredly from somewhere where no one could see her but she undoubtedly could see all of them. "Or is that part just wasting our time?"

"Well, if you're ever in a fight with your brainwashed best friend, it could work," Bishop offered.

"Happens more often than you'd think," Belova agreed.

"Tell me about it," Sam added.

"You're all annoying," Dreykov sighed. "I want to try. But do not kiss me," she said as she appeared from a shadow in the middle of the room. Okay, not really, but it seemed like it. She was always just appearing.

"One more for the road?" Bucky suggested, tugging his wrists down to get Sam's attention.

Sam obliged, leaning down to kiss Bucky quickly.

But not quick enough to keep Bucky from flipping them again and pinning Sam's hands down. "It works both ways," he crowed, like he'd won something.

"Annoying!" Dreykov repeated. "Wasting my time."

"Yeah, yeah," Sam grunted, shoving Bucky off of him so they could stand. "Go get your ass kicked."

Still, when their eyes met as they reset around the room, they both couldn't help but grin and look away again.

Antonia did kick Bucky's ass without any cheating. But it was alright 'cause Sam was there to kiss his ego better afterwards.