#life is strange easter egg | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lowkeyrobin · 2 months

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Mcyt with an s/o who's a voice acter for video game characters? They mostly do voice characters in horror games n stuff(like until dawn, where the characters are also modeled after the voice after if I remember correctly)

I just think their faces would be hilarious if the choice they make in the game ends up with y/n getting killed lol

OH MY GOD YESSSSS ; also tried to use different games and not the same for everyone but I'm not the heaviest story game gamer LMFAO ; also don't talk about how timeliness wouldn't make sense shhhhhh

MCYT ; video game voice actor

includes ; tommyinnit, tubbo, ranboo, badlinu, nihachu, quackity, & foolish gamers

warnings ; language & fictional violence and death/murder

masterlist

TOMMYINNIT

somehow the topic of mc story mode came up and how you actually voice acted a few characters + one of the Jessie variants (whichever you picked as a kid 🙏)

"WHAT? WHY DIDNT I KNOW ABOUT THIS?"

"I mean I was like, fourteen. I don't think I even knew you yet"

"absolute betrayal"

he literally speeds to his office, downloads the first game and proceeds to stream for three hours playing it (he selects whichever Jessie you voiced of course)

"OH MY GOD THAT IS MY PARTNER, HOLY SHIT, LISTEN TO THEIR BABY VOICE!"

the tweets never end

"spot the difference" and its an old/new pic of you compared to jessie

💀💀💀💀

once he gets to the save Petra or Lukas scene he straight up pauses and playfully yells at you like you made the game?? 💀🙏

he dies so many times it's not even funny

love him tho

TUBBO

red dead redemption two 💀

forget the qsmp, once he finally downloads the game its all he's playing for a straight week

again, how the hell did he not know about this??

it was only 2018??

you voice a few of the townsfolk and a few of the supporting characters

everytime he hears your baby voice he's like "omg you sounded like that??" obviously he's been friends w you for a while so he doesn't notice voice changes

as an Easter egg, the player can actually kill one of the random townsfolk solely for being annoying with no consequences

it's modeled after you as well 💀💀💀

the npc just shouts annoying shit and doesn't shut up and is encouraged to kill the kid

tubbo kills the kid and unlocks the secret achievement

RANBOO

Detroit become human

the moment he finds out you voiced a minor character he speedruns trying to find you

the character is also modeled after you, so he's begging chat to keep an eye out for you too

you're basically just some very friendly person trying to help Connor but no matter what route he/the player takes, you wind up dead for the angst

ouuuu the heartbreak, the angst

if it's by being shot, betrayed, or committing your own death, you're gone bro

"y/n why the fuck does your character die in the worst ways possible?"

you shrug

"that genuinley hurt my feelings. I don't wanna play this anymore"

"you didn't get to Connors possible death scene yet!"

"WHAT?"

FREDDIE BADLINU

TLOU 2 (I don't support the makers zionist views, I just thought this fit. free Palestine and do your daily clicks)

was literally cheering you on the whole time when you were bts for voice acting your character

you had to take like scream classes to upgrade your screaming abilities lmao

you gave the voice to a character modeled after you, an infected teen who runs into ellie on her way through the game

she/the player is forced to put you down because you're not immune

he plays through the game and turns to you like "dude do I actually have to kill you to progress?"

you just nod

"I'm sorry, I didn't wanna do this"

THE DESPERATE SCREAMING GOT HIM

literally looked at you in horror

"...are you okay?"

you smile and nod

NIKI NIHACHU

life is strange

mf you would've been like 16?? damn get ur bag, okay

she plays through and you va (whoever you choose) and everytime she hears your voice she smiles

"omg that's my partner! that's y/n, you guys!! :D"

the cutest

literallt cries at the end of the game

"y/n, were you in life is strange two?"

"why?"

"Cause I wanna play it but I don't wanna get my hopes up about you being there"

"just play it, just play it. trust me"

ALEX QUACKITY

twdg s4

basically clem/the player gets really close to your character and ends up having to kill them after they turn into a walker

the angst, the heartbreak

he's never done a full let's play / game play like that before and especially with a full game series

when he got to s4 and heard you for the first time he literally started jumping around and screaming

now when you die... it's jumping and screaming alright (in anger and sadness)

"ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME? I PLAYED ALL THOSE GAMES JUST FOR YOU TO DIE?"

"I mean there's an option to prevent me turning, you're just a dumbass"

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN? IM RESTARTING"

FOOLISH GAMERS

dead by daylight

you va'd multiple characters/killers

and the devs wanted to show appreciation by giving you your own playable character with your natural voice

when foolish finds out, he gets tubbo, quackity, tina & niki in a call to play dbd + stream for like 6 hours

loves seeing all the death animations you'd be given and all your voicelines

"OH MY GOD! guys this is my partner, they're so instantly talented at voice acting, holy shit!"

"we get it foolish, you love y/n"

"It's more than love, quackity, it's an obsession"

"my brother in christ, calm down"

#lowkeyrobin #mcyt x reader #mcyt preferences #mcyt oneshot #tommyinnit x reader #ranboo x reader #quackity x reader #badlinu x reader #tubbo x reader #alex quackity x reader #freddie badlinu x reader #niki nihachu x reader #nihachu x reader #foolish gamers x reader #gn reader #gender neutral reader #mcyt x gn reader #they/them reader

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brokehorrorfan · 1 month

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6 Things I Learned from the Lisa Frankenstein Commentary

We don’t get movies like Lisa Franeknstein often, which is a shame because it’s endlessly charming yet delightfully twisted. While it disappointed at the box office, it has "cult classic" written all over it.

The coming-of-age horror-comedy is out today on Blu-ray and DVD. Among the special features is an audio commentary by Zelda Williams. Here are 6 things I learned…

1. Catch Me If You Can inspired the opening credit sequence.

The opening credit sequence, which briefly depicts the Creature's love story from his previous life in the style of Victorian shadow box art, was inspired by Catch Me If You Can.

"We wanted to do something interesting with the credits in this bit. I was really inspired by Catch Me If You Can, which I thought the opening credits were particularly interesting and helped establish the story before we ever got to it. And because Creature doesn't speak this whole movie, I wanted an opportunity to show what his life would have been like."

2. The film was originally intended to be rated R.

Although Lisa Frankenstein pushes the PG-13 rating as far as it can go, it was originally intended to be a hard R. Williams cites the party scene, in which Lisa originally smoked a laced joint rather than drinking a PCP cocktail, as a difficult revision.

"This is where stuff got a little complicated when we were going from R-rated to PG-13. Originally there was a coated joint they were passing around. This is one of the only scenes that I'm not sure I'm as fond of in comparison to the joint stuff. Most of the rest of the changes were fine, but this one I find very strange. It's just a very different reaction and interaction than what used to be there. However, these are the things that happen when making a movie."

3. Creature is an homage to Day of the Dead's Bub.

Not only Lisa is seen watching George A. Romero's Day of the Dead in the film, but the Creature is an homage to its iconic zombie, Bub.

"Creature for me is definitely an homage to Buster Keaton, but he's also an homage to the zombie you just saw on screen, Bub, who was in Day of the Dead, a Romero movie that I'm very fond of. It was an incredibly emotive and a very intelligent zombie and ended up getting revenge against the asshole in the movie. It was one of my favorite monsters ever made, so when I could put that on screen during the movie, it made me very happy."

4. Zelda hid a tribute to her father, Robin Williams.

Williams is the daughter of Robin Williams, and she included his 1983 comedy album, Throbbing Python of Love, among the records scattered on the floor in Lisa's living room.

"Oh, there's Dad! We used one of Dad's vinyl albums because we had to scatter some across the floor." She refers to it as "a little, mini Easter Egg for me."

5. The police officers are named after John Waters.

The police officers in the film are Officer John (played by Walker Babington) and Officer Waters (Sylvia Grace Crim) — named on a whim in honor of cult filmmaker, John Waters.

"They asked me to name the cops, because obviously they needed to have name tags, so I named them Officer John and Officer Waters." She thought no one would notice since they're so small, but a viewer pointed it out at a test screening.

6. The film is sprinkled with movie references.

Williams wore her influences on her sleeve with her directorial debut, and she pointed out several references on the commentary:

A Trip to the Moon (clip featured in Lisa's surreal dream sequence)

The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari (stylistic inspiration on the dream sequence)

Weird Science (the party scene)

Suspiria (red lighting during drug sequence)

My Boyfriend's Back (camera shot from inside a grave looking up at characters)

Kill Bill (weapon point-of-view shot)

E.T. (a boy on a bike — played by Diablo Cody's son — at the end)

Notting Hill (reading together on a bench at the end)

Lisa Frankenstein is available now on Blu-ray, DVD, and Digital via Universal.

#lisa frankenstein #zelda williams #diablo cody #kathryn newton #cole sprouse #article #review #dvd #gift #liza soberano #henry eikenberry #joe chrest #carla gugino #horror #horror comedy

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i-am-the-avatar-of-idiocy · 2 months

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I know you mentioned your asks are open. So I was wondering with the self aware obey me AU. How would the surprise guest sequences feel for them? I’m sure they’d be excited and hoping to jump out of the screen!

I thought I already wrote this! Apparently not 😭

Generally I think that they believe that you choose who it is, even if they know the truth that it’s random (beyond who you put in your team)

those who you have less powerful cards of… they WILL mess with the summons! This also WILL frustrate the others especially the more powerful demons who handle it in ways they aren’t the proudest of

you will get lines that are not in the game at all… you assume they’re Easter eggs that you’ve unlocked somehow

however some of these are more… dark… but I guess it’s a game about demons so you shrug it off

they all try to impress you and will GUSH over gifts you give them to the others and mock the others for not having it (even if they got the same last battle)

you also always seem to have at least one of characters favourite foods and gifts and even if you give them something they don’t like they will accept it gracefully

also if Luke seems to be getting an awful lot of attention in these surprise guests… well I suppose you won’t be seeing him much anymore. However this is an extreme measure as they know how much you adore him like a son. These measures will be taken in certain circumstances though, so be careful if you value his life

I also think that the demon brothers would squabble over who you prefer the most, sometimes resulting in physical fights. Lucifer lets this happen because he loves his brothers but having less competition could be nice

You always feel strangely watched when you have surprise guests and you ALWAYS get fell heart reactions and intimacy levels rise suspicious amounts but you think it must be a glitch and besides what’s the worst that can happen…

#obey me x reader #Excuse my botched writing #its been a while #yandere obey me #yandere obey me x reader #self aware au #Also I’m so sorry about luke #Idk why I’m doing this to my son

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cbeanowitz · 8 months

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i spent about a month replaying all the Life is Strange games, right around when I saw the Barbie movie, so this was unavoidable. had SO much fun with all the little easter egg guitar stickers! Also wow Alex is so pretty I just love drawing her

#chenrich #life is strange #life is strange true colors #alex chen #i am kenough #kenergy

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cupids-scream-queen · 6 months

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🦃Turkey Time with Brahms Heelshire🌽

(Surprisingly, not a crackfic.)

Happy early Thanksgiving!

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: unprotected sex, mommy kink, biting, slight blood kink, idk. It's sex. There's sex in it.

Summary: She tried to make a Thanksgiving dinner, but Brahms decided to give her the orgasm of her life.

Thanksgiving was fast approaching, and she had barely anything prepared. It wasn't as if she had family to invite over—she left everyone in America, everyone she'd known and cared for, all for a stupid job where she could be a social recluse in the countryside. It sounded absolutely wonderful, actually, and looking past the obvious red flags—she was happy.

The doll she was originally hired to nanny was of a boy, and she wasn’t particularly creeped out by it. She presumed it was haunted, alive, or any number of things, and it didn’t bother her at all—she herself was strange and unusual in that sense.

She thought nothing of the parents of the doll, she just figured it was a strange sort of coping mechanism from two heartbroken parents about the death of their real boy—but nothing really prepared her for when the doll was revealed to be a ruse and the boy was alive, and living in the walls of the manor. This, of course, was a little strange and unusual, but she didn’t really mind—she was hired as a nanny, and she was going to nanny, whether that be a doll or a man-child who lived in the walls all his life.

It was nearly a month since she discovered the secret, and though it made her wonder a few things (mostly what the fuck the man was doing), once she saw the mask, she put the pieces together—the boy was alive, and his parents were just batshit crazy.

Though she was a recluse, her mind often wondered if Brahms had experienced any sort of holiday properly—if he got Christmas presents, if he’d experienced Thanksgiving (though she knew that Thanksgiving was not an English holiday, she still wished to celebrate it), if he’d had an Easter egg hunt. She decided, then, that she was going to show Brahms every holiday he’d missed out on, and she started with the first of many: Thanksgiving.

She was trying to surprise him, the turkey in the oven and the potatoes heating up, she was in the kitchen, her hair tied up in a neat bun, her apron overtop her work clothes, her eyes scanning the cookbook propped open on a pot in front of her. She was a sight to behold, and she felt like a housewife—but a paid housewife, which meant she wouldn’t be complaining anytime soon.

The smell was delicious, the food was to be impeccable, and she was certain that Brahms would enjoy the meal she’d made for him. She was excited to see the movements of joy pop up from him, his stiff porcelain mask concealing facial expressions, but she knew she’d be able to tell if he was happy.

Currently, she knew she was being watched. From a peephole, in the kitchen, she was always being observed by Brahms. She didn’t particularly care, she wasn’t doing anything that she needed privacy for, but she wanted to see if Brahms would get involved in the process.

“Brahms? Do you want to come out?” She called, and she heard a shuffling movement coming from behind her. Without warning, she felt the arms of the man wrap around her, the cool mask pressing into her neck. She didn’t jump, she didn’t scream, she just let him stay there.

“Do you want to help me cook?”

“Yes,” The child-like voice of the man was not as off-putting the more she heard it. She didn’t quite understand why he used it, but she didn’t judge—the man was living in the walls, he didn’t have the most normal of upbringings.

“If you want to help, you’ve got to let go of me, Brahmsy,” She said, her voice soft and gentle.

“No, I want to be close,” Brahms squeezed her harder, pressing her up against his body. He was warm, and she cold, but she felt the small twinge of something pressing into her.

“How close, Brahms?” She asked, and he pressed up against her more, allowing her to feel his hard cock. She let out a sharp release of air.

“Close,” He said, his voice no longer child-like. His full, proper, man voice. Soft and gentle, yet still somewhat demanding.

“Brahms, I’m making dinner,” She protested, but Brahms was having none of it. Quickly, he turned her around, pressing her up against the counter as she looked up into the eyes of the man in the porcelain mask.

“Please,” He whimpered, and she was inclined to give in, give him what he wanted. But a small part of her wondered how far she could get with teasing. How far she could provoke the man until he caved in and did everything that he desired towards her. That small part of her became larger the longer Brahms kept pressing himself up against her, his dick deliciously hitting her clothed pussy.

“If you’re a good boy,” She said simply, and went to turn back around to focus on the cooking. Brahms yanked her away, causing her to drop a spoon on the ground. The loud clang of the spoon did nothing, Brahms still dead set on getting what he wanted. And she found it adorable, and hot.

“I’m a good boy, I’m so good, I can make you feel good,” Brahms pawed at her shirt, desperate for her to take it off. To his dismay, she didn’t oblige.

“If you’re a good boy, you’d help me cook,” She batted his hands away, looking into his piercing green eyes. “You’ll get your reward if you help mommy cook.”

“I don’t want to help mommy cook. I want to make mommy feel good,” Brahms groaned as she touched his clothed dick, tempting him with what could happen. Only tempting, not giving.

“Brahms,” She palmed him again, causing him to latch onto her, not wanting to let go. “You’ll get more if you help me prepare dinner.”

“Please, please mommy—” Brahms was practically jelly against her at this point, his body completely giving up and allowing her to pleasure him. He loved it. He needed more of it.

“You’ll get more if you help me, baby,” She promised, and it only took a few more minutes of this before Brahms agreed. Fine, he’d help.

He’d help her solve her problem.

He allowed her to turn her back on him, before he lifted her up, kidnapping her into the bedroom. He moved quickly, and she didn’t protest, she knew what she was doing in the kitchen. She enjoyed this part of Brahms, the wild, untamed, needy part of him that would tip over and do things like this. He threw her on the bed, climbing on top of her in an instant.

She could tell from the glisten in his eyes that he was going to do everything and anything to her, and she was fine with it. She would allow Brahms to have his fun—after all, she’d be the one to discipline him later.

He slipped the familiar blindfold on her, not allowing her to see his face as he took off the mask. He started to kiss at her neck, biting, licking, sucking; she moaned, her noises causing him to take more skin in before he finally bit hard enough to draw blood—she moaned as he drank from the wound, lapping it up deliciously and allowing it to sting. His hands were roaming her body, his touch like fire on her skin. He pawed at the shirt on your body, before tearing it off with his bare hands.

Unclasping the bra, her breasts were exposed, his hands immediately covering them and flicking her nipples, causing them to become hard. He took the right one in his mouth, his tongue swirling around and his teeth grazing over the soft flesh. He took the left breast in his hand, his large, warm, beautiful hand. She wiggled under him, but he held her down as best he could with his own body weight, trapping her between him and the mattress. It was a delicious position for her to be in.

“Oh God, Brahmsy, you’re so good,” She was breathless, and she knew Brahms had yet to fully start yet. No, he was going to draw it out, make her wait, exactly as she’d done to him. She knew the risk of tormenting him like that, and now she was reaping the repercussions. Delightfully.

He laughed, his chest vibrating and his breath hitched as she continued to moan at his mouth, her fingers in his hair. She wanted to watch how his mouth came down on her nipple, how he looked when he was pleasuring her. She wanted to see all of him, and although she was patient, she had a desire to see the man behind the mask.

“I’m going to fuck you so hard, you’ll never leave me,” Brahms growled in her ear, and she shuddered at the thought of him fucking her hard enough to do that. She moaned in response, her grip on his hair tightening. Brahms began to kiss and suck lower, leaving hickeys and bite marks as he made his way down to her skirt, before completely taking it off in one go.

“You’re wet.”

“It’s for you, Brahmsy,” She said, her voice tender, “it’s all for you.”

“Good. You’re mine,” He put his hand on her pussy, enjoying how she gasped at the sudden pressure. He looked at her panties—bright red, which stood out against her skin. He took them off gingerly, far more careful than he usually was. Her pussy was bare, and she felt his warm breath on it for a few seconds, before his warm tongue started to make its way from bottom to top. Her thighs clenched around him almost immediately, but he forced them open with his hands. She pulled on his hair, begging for him to go deeper. She felt his tongue enter her, and she moaned loudly at the intrusion. It was warm, wet, and wonderful—and he was fantastic at his job. Her body shook with a mix of pain and pleasure as he lightly bit on her clit, the nerves sending sparks up her body. He began mixing his fingers with his tongue, stretching her wide in preparation for what was to come.

She could barely think, her mind focused solely on Brahms. Until, suddenly, he stopped. His tongue was away from her pussy, his hands were finding a new home on her body. She moaned at the loss, and he pressed a finger against her lips. She smelled herself on it, and tenderly took his finger in her mouth, sucking. It earned a groan from Brahms, who was now focused on the main part of his goal.

He gave no warning when he pushed into her, stopping for nothing as he went as deep in her as he could. It hurt slightly, she could feel her eyes prick with tears of pain and pleasure as he started to thrust into her, roughly. He pulled all the way out before slamming back in, the bed creaking from his body movements. His hands were all over her, prodding, pinching, everything, until one of them found a home on her pussy, continuing to rub circles into her clit as he fucked her, moaning out her name as he continued.

“You’re such a good boy,” She gasped out, her breathing uneven. His pace was fast, nothing like it’d been before. “You feel so good, Brahmsy, oh my God—”

“Don’t leave,” His words were mixed with groans, his mouth finding her neck. He bit again, drawing more blood and lapping it up like a good dog. She wasn’t going to leave. Not after this.

“I won’t, I promise,” The words hung over as Brahms continued to thrust into her, his dick hitting her spot religiously and his cock fitting into her like a puzzle piece. It was thick, large, and fat—perfect for his girl to take. Because that’s what she was, his.

His thrusts got rougher, and his nails dug into her skin as he continued, and she looked beautiful. Brahms wasn’t quite sure what love was, but he understood lust, and knew that he was lusting after her, and she felt the same towards him. He couldn’t keep his eyes off of her every movement, her body arching as she came closer and closer to absolute pleasure. He was doing that to her, and it was the greatest accomplishment he could do.

He could feel her clenching around his cock, drawing him in closer and closer. Her moans were more frequent and high-pitched, and she was scratching at his arms, her nails digging in, creating the most wonderful pain. He kept going, chasing after his own pleasure, knowing that he’ll give her hers.

And he was right.

He continued to rut into her, feeling himself being drawn closer and closer unto the edge. He was finally ready, his dick aching for release, and his girl was spread out for him, open, and ready to take it. And she was going to. She came first, her pussy clenching and coating him in a layer of her cum. He then thrusted roughly into her, his dick reaching new places as he came in her, thick layers of cum shooting into her. She could feel some of it leak out, and she whined as Brahms continued to thrust, even after his release, until he pulled out, his breathing deep and heavy.

He collapsed onto her, and she wrapped her arms around him, keeping him close. He could feel her heart beating out of her chest, telling him that he’d done a good job. He smiled at the praise.

“Brahmsy, I’ve still got to make dinner,” She said, and he whined. “If I don’t go, I might ruin the turkey.”

“Stay,” He said, his voice childlike again. “I did good.”

“Yes, you did wonderfully, but I need to get dinner ready,” She carefully peeled him off of her, and she heard the familiar snapping of the mask, signaling it was safe for her to pull off the blindfold. “Are you going to help? You can mash the potatoes.”

“Okay,” He said, and that was all there was to it.

#brahms heelshire #brahms x reader #brahms heelsire x reader #brahms the boy #the boy 2016 #slasher fucker #slasher community #slasher x reader #slashers x reader #slasher smut

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simsi45 · 22 days

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The Sims 4 Amber House Pack - PUBLIC RELEASE!

youtube

CLICK HERE TO GO TO THE PATREON PAGE!

Oh...my...GOD!!! I can't believe this is actually happening....

After 3 years of hard work, I am here to welcome everyone to:

The Sims 4 Amber House Pack!

It's time to create your own mission style dream house, with this collection of 345 brand new and hella cool build/buy mode items, inspired by Dontnod's "Life is Strange: Before the Storm" game.

EARLY ACCESS: You can get the pack right now, on my PATREON on the 3-5$ tiers, or wait for the 12th of May for the public release!

Please read EVERYTHING included in the post as it contains useful information about the pack!

DISCLAIMER: Simsi45 or The Sims 4 Amber House Pack is NOT affiliated or associated with Electronic Arts, Square Enix, Deck Nine or Dontnod in ANY way. This is a purely fanmade pack made by me, a fan of both games that wanted to get the best of both worlds.

FEATURES:

345 new items (including sofas, tables, decor, windows, doors and much much more!)

Search for "amberhouse", "lis", "simsi45" to find most of the items in the build/buy catalog.

Custom original names and descriptions. (the best I could come up with :P)

Tons of custom recolors (based on original textures) to mix and match items more easily.

Heavy modification on original meshes and textures, including english text turned into simlish.

Everything has been playtested thoroughly.

Included are a couple of easter egg items from The Sims 2 that I thought fit the theme well.

New lot I made showcased in the trailer and pics (found in the gallery under my tag @simsi45_mods) a recreation of Rachel Amber's house.

LOT INSTALLATION:

Included in the pack is the lot recreation of the Amber House that's featured in the pictures and videos.

You can get the lot by:

Using the gallery. Make a search under my EA id: @simsi45_mods and download the lot as usual. I've included customized pictures to identify my own lot more easily. Make sure you have the "enable custom content" tag ENABLED for the lot to show up in the results.

If you have difficulties using the gallery you can download the lot tray files from the bottom of the post, and move them inside your own tray folder. This can be found in your documents/electronic arts/the sims 4/ tray folder. This way you can install the lot without the need of the gallery.

NOTES:

~ The pack is in an EARLY-ACCESS STATE! I have dedicated a lot of time to test everything but I'm a team of just a single person. If you find any issues please let me know so I can take a look.

~ Because of the amount of items the size of the pack is quite big. I tried my best to make everything as compact as possible with the final size being 1.5 GB of required free space.

~ The majority of the meshes and textures of these items are ripped straight from the LIS: Before the Storm game, and then each individual item (both mesh and textures) has been heavily modified and edited to fit and function properly within the Sims 4 game's engine. That's why some items will look identical to the original game, some look somewhat different, and some are brand new meshes I made using the original items.

~ Some of the original ripped meshes' poly counts were WAY too high so I had to lower the polygons so The Sims 4 wouldn't explode when filling a lot with them. I lowered the polygons and edited most of the items as much as possible without compromising their original look too much. In other words I tried to find the best balance between looks and performance and after lots of testing on my moderate PC system, I can confirm the game runs super smoothly on my end.

BACKSTORY ABOUT THE PACK (no spoilers):

This pack started with an idea I got back in 2017 when I first played Life Is Strange Before The Storm. When visiting the Amber house, I immediately fell in love with it as I am huge fan of the craftsman architectural style, it's literally all I'd want my dream house to be. The art team has done an incredible job on it, and as I personally find the art style of the Life is Strange series and The Sims 4 to fit very well with each other, I wanted to make these assets available for The Sims 4. Of course back then this all seemed impossible, however a few years later in 2020 during quarantine I revisited the idea as it had been stuck on my wishlist ever since.

To make a long story short, this project has been in the works for about 3 years now, and after a lot of hard work, head scratching and quite a few sleepless nights I managed to overcome all the obstacles I came across (which were a lot mind you) and I'm honestly hoping you'll be as pleased with the results as I am. Seriously this exceeded my expectations as it started as a small little pack for my personal use, to what I'd consider an expansion pack's (or even more) worth of build/buy content.

INSTALLATION:

Due to the size of the pack I had to split it up into multiple parts. You will need a .RAR extractor unpack it. More specifically:

1 -> Download ALL 6 parts of the pack and put them ALL in the same folder. 2 -> Right click the 1st part .RAR file named "Simsi45 - The Sims 4 Amber House Pack.part1" and click "Extract Here" 3 -> Once that's finished a package file will appear, this is the entire pack and you can now move that into The Sims 4/Mods. Simple as that!

CREDITS & THANKS:

~Dontnod, Square Enix, Deck Nine for the original meshes & textures ripped from Life is Strange: Before the Storm that were used to create most of the items.

~EA for some meshes & textures used to convert some items from The Sims 2.

Special thank you to all the patreon members that stuck with me throughout me developing the pack. Although not many I really appreciate every single one of you for the support you've given me and for sticking around!

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demontobee · 9 months

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Parallels between Lord Jim and Good Omens (2)

I have rewatched GO2 at least 10 times now (still counting, obvsly), and every time I notice new easter eggs that emerge from the massive web of intertextuality that Neil Gaiman created for us here.

So today, I wanted to focus on the way Aziraphale came up with the “undercover” name “Jim” for Gabriel. He read it on the spine of a book: Lord Jim.

That book was written by Joseph Conrad (a Polish-British writer with dubious ideas about colonialism) and published in 1900. The plot basically follows the life of a young idealistic seaman called Jim who has to defend himself in a trial that concerns a sinking ship which he and other members of the crew abandoned in a storm, leaving it and the helpless passengers to their fate. The ship did not sink in the end, and he was the only member of the crew who was held accountable for his deeds by stripping him off his naval certificate. The trial is where he meets the narrator of the story, Marlow, who is strangely intrigued by the young man, who seems to be engulfed by guilt and shame over his morally wrong decision to leave the boat. The narrator tries to help Jim to his feet and lands him a job as a post manager at some remote colonial outpost. There he becomes a hero by capturing a local bandit. Later he falls victim to a scheme against him, and a pirate raids a neighbouring community and kills the son of their chief, Jim’s close friend. Jim then goes there, and the chief shoots him as a revenge for his son.

I mean, the most obvious parallel is that Gabriel gets named after Jim. He, too, abandoned his ship (Heaven; and the question here is, did he know it might be a sinking ship as well?) and was put on trial and lost his position as archangel before he came to Aziraphale for help. But that’s not all there is to it.

Let us start with the formal (concerning style and structure) aspects:

narrative structure:

“Marlow has complete control over the story … and he exercises his power in increasingly complicated ways. Time is broken up: in a single paragraph of narration, Marlow will reference the past, the present, and the future. By manipulating the flow of the narrative, Marlow is able to create juxtapositions and contrasts that highlight particular aspects of the story. He is a master at withholding information …” (Source: Sparknotes)

As I have already discussed in another post, this is more or less how narrative structure works in GO, too (S2 maybe more than S1, but this still applies to both). We get minisodes from the past that directly reference and juxtapose situations in the story that takes place in the present. Take, for example, the Job minisode, which gives us information about the development of Crowley and Aziraphale’s relationship, but we also see how devastating and hard it was for Aziraphale to realise that sometimes he had to lie (or do something considered wrong in heaven) to do the morally right thing. This sequence is juxtaposed with the relative ease he exhibits in the present day when he has to lie to heaven on a regular basis (in this case, about the miracle and hiding Gabriel, which is kind of a big lie, too). The show also plays with our understanding and expectations of how time works, as S2 starts with a scene that takes place “before the beginning,” which undermines dramatic structure as it has been known and accepted since Aristotle. It is also interesting to note that in S1, we have a strong sense of an almighty narrator, since god herself is narrating the whole time and she sure lets us know that she is playing her own ineffable game here. In S2, however, we don’t have a clear narrative voice. This might make it seem like the narration is more neutral or less meddled with, but in reality, it just makes things even less reliable and situations more ambiguous, as we have no single voice to interpret them for us. Someone is definitely “withholding information” here, and I guess we’ll have to wait for S3 to get the full picture.

language/style:

“Marlow constantly ponders the "message"--the meaning of Jim's story. His language is dense with terms like "inscrutable" and "inexplicable," words that denote imprecision and indecipherability, but which also possess a certain quality of uncertainty in themselves, as words. He struggles to name things, and is often reduced to wondering if there even is a meaning to Jim's story and his fascination with it. Sometimes he concludes that the meaning is an "enigma"; sometimes he decides there is no meaning to be found at all. Words are constantly being contested in this novel; at least three major episodes center around the misinterpretation of a single spoken word.” (Source: Sparknotes)

I mean, “inscrutable” and “inexplicable”? Why not just call it “ineffable”? I also love how Crowley seems to wonder about the meaning of things (especially the distinction between “good” and “bad”), as one of the first things we here him say in S2 is something like: “Do you ever ask yourself what’s the point. I mean angels, demons, heaven, hell … it all seems a bit … point … less.” And obviously, the whole show is full of misinterpretations of words (e.g., “what does your exactly mean, exactly? I feel like my exactly and your exactly are different exactlies”), or, as we are all painfully aware, a whole way of communicating with one another (“aim for my mouth, but shoot past my ear”).

Now for some similarities concerning informal (aka content) aspects:

moral balance and “naïve heroism”:

“Even more tortured is the analysis of idealism and heroism that lies at the center of Lord Jim. Jim is a young man who enters the world motivated primarily by fantasies of daring and noble deeds lifted from cheap novels. His ideals break down, however, in the face of real danger; they are, in fact, untenable when applied to any form of reality.” (Source: Sparnotes)

That sounds like both Crowley and Aziraphale in a way. They both set out as naïve idealists, and both of them learn (Crowley earlier and faster that Aziraphale) that their (heavenly) ideals do not hold in the complex reality of life. A lot of what we see in S2 is Aziraphale coming to terms with accepting that doing the “right thing” on earth often involves breaking his heavenly rules and allowing for “shades of grey.”

struggling to comprehend own identity and moral consequences of own actions:

Both the narrator, Marlow, and the protagonist of his tale, Jim, are trying to figure out their identity. Marlow seems to tell the story mainly to kind of make sense of identity itself but also of him personally, while Jim tries to make amends for his morally wrong behaviour and tries to manifest his identity (as a hero) through action.

In GO2, we have a lot of identity struggles and questions of “who am I?”: Jim the amnesiac angel is the most blatantly obvious case, but we also have Aziraphale negotiating his identity constantly, e.g., in the Job episode when he asks “Then what am I?” after having lied to heaven for the first time . And I mean Crowley is just on another level of liminal identity entirely, isn’t he?

As a bonus (and I am probably going overboard here, but well), this is the description of Jim’s death:

“Then with his hand over his lips he fell forward, dead.”

The imagery reminds me of something…ahhh yes:

Feel free to add your thoughts in the tags or comments!

#good omens #good omens s2 #aziraphale #ineffable husbands #crowley #go2 #good omens 2 #good omens meta #neil gaiman #crowley x aziraphale #meta #lord jim #go2 meta #jimmmm short for gabriel #thank you neil gaiman

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wambsgansshoelaces · 5 months

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Turmoil; Chapter 7

Roman Roy x Reader

a/n: catch the easter egg hehe

Word Count: 2.60k

Just one day, you tell yourself. One day to forget about all the bullshit in your life and just enjoy yourself. It is a party in your name, after all.

After some moaning and groaning from Roman, you manage to drag him out of bed and get him ready. You stand, hips touching, as he messes with his cologne and you put in your earrings.

“You know some shit is going to happen today,” he mutters.

“Why would you say that?” you chide. “We should be relaxed. It’s our last night here.”

“Murphy’s Law, Y/N.”

“I didn’t know you were smart enough to know what that is.” He smacks your shoulder lightly. “What? I’m being honest,” you tease, smoothing out the wrinkles in the dress you’d picked out a few days before.

“I’m extremely intelligent, just so you know.”

“Sure, Roman.” You laugh.

“I’m the one who got Connor’s watch. And…,” he says conspiratorially, winding an arm around your waist and pulling you flush against him. “I got someone’s personal bank records.”

“I love it when a man commits federal crimes for me,” you say faux-dreamily, smiling at him.

“Y/N, it’s not illegal, if I, er, found them.”

“We’ll talk about it later. I want a stress-free night.”

“Murphy’s Law,” he repeats. “What can go wrong will go wrong.”

“Is it too much to ask of your father to keep his opinions to himself for one night?” you ask, sighing. You perfect your look in the mirror before stepping away form Roman.

He follows you out the door, his fingers subtly intertwined with yours. He’s warmed up to your touch- not that he’s ever not liked it. Kissing, apparently, is still out of the question. You’d realized when you tried giving him a peck good night before bed the other day.

You can’t even begin to count all the people in attendance tonight. You don’t know most of them, as you’d expected, which makes your job more difficult. You have to make yourself look good- and Logan.

You mill about, doing what Roman refers to as ‘standing there and looking so damn pretty’, watching the crowd. He’d scuttled off in the name of finding desserts, leaving you to yourself and your thoughts. Logan had spared no expense for his son- chandeliers were lit, servers were flitting here and there, tables upon tables of food were laid out.

While your situation is less than ideal, you’re able to appreciate nice things when they come.

You idly sip from your glass, letting your gaze rake over the crowd. Logan is sitting by himself off to a corner, seemingly trying to gather his strength to even get up. You wonder where Marcia is, and you briefly feel a pang of sympathy. Only briefly.

Shiv is more than likely flirting with some random guy, you tell yourself, Kendall probably asleep in a separate room. Connor is entertaining his own circle of guests, in his element. He makes weird flapping motions with his arms, and you’re thankful you weren’t pulled into that conversation. Greg is happily munching on an assortment of treats. You’re delighted he’s gotten a break. He’s a good man; he deserves it.

Your gaze snags on a strangely already-balding young man. Before you’d left for this party, Roman had shown you a headshot of the accountant Connor was working with. He seemed freshly out of college, but both his face and certain records you’re sure you’ll be able to dig up say otherwise. If anything, he was suspicious.

To your dismay, he makes his way over to you. You hope this won’t be a repeat of the charity gala- you don’t think you’ll be able to control yourself this time. This guy has a punchable face, anyway.

“The future Mrs. Roy,” he says heartily. You lazily raise your glass to him. “I’ve been keen to meet you.” He talks like an old man, too. “I’m the one who directed my client to you when his things got stolen at the hotel.”

You straighten slightly. “Were you, now? I thought it just came with our… familial ties.” You flash your engagement ring at him.

“I mean, of course that’d be the natural course of thought. Regardless, I had to make sure he went with the best, and you’re the best.”

You’re certain he’s trying to kiss your ass. The question is why. You fold one of your arms over your torso and regard him. “Who are you, again?”

He straightens his blazer and extends his hand out to the one you currently have holding your glass. Jerkily, he puts it back down by his side and says, “Peirce Thompson. Thompson & Thompson Accounting and Banking.”

“What a firm name,” you say blandly.

“My brother and I started the thing up from our bedroom way back when, and the name’s just stuck.”

“So you’ve been around a while, then?”

“Oh, ages, absolute ages.” He dusts off an imaginary bit of lint from his shoulder. You press your lips together.

“Why haven’t I heard of you, then?” you ask carefully.

“Psh, your type of law and my finance rarely collide,” he says condescendingly. “We’re in two different worlds, sweetheart.”

Trying not to recede into yourself, you give him a strange look. What he’s saying is bullshit- you know your way around economics, and you run your own firm. Clearly, you have a handle on finance. “If you say so.”

As if Connor’s shenanigans couldn’t get more confusing. This accountant banker bitch reeks of fish- both figuratively and literally, unfortunately.

“I’ve been meaning to ask. Have you ever personally taken care of many fraud cases?”

“Depends on the kind of fraud we’re talking about.” You manage to catch Kendall’s eyes over Peirce’s shoulder. You subtly widen and release your eyelids, trying to get him to come over.

“Er, tax fraud.”

”Sure I have. Why do you ask?” You turn your gaze back to his.

“Only wondering. Some issues are arising with… clients.”

“Clients, huh?”

Thankfully, before he can say anything, Kendall claps his hand over Peirce’s shoulder. “I didn’t think you’d be here today,” Kendall says stiffly. “Funny you’d show your face after raking up the interest for my dad by ‘forgetting’ to pay his taxes.” You have to keep yourself from laughing. Kendall continues. “You’ve met my sister? Trying to weasel your way into her finances, too?” He shifts to stand shoulder to shoulder with you. Your heart warms when he refers to you as family.

Peirce grits his teeth. “Lies don’t look good on you, Mr. Roy.”

Kendall snorts before pressing a hand to your back and guiding you away. “Thanks,” you murmur to him as you both slip away.

“He makes me want to rip my hair out. I’ve got you.”

You both make your way to a table, taking seats. You’d been standing for so long your feet were aching. Roman finds you and pulls a chair up right next to yours, and when he sits, he makes sure his leg is touching yours.

Kendall takes note, his eyes flickering from you to Roman. “What happened to ‘I’m going to kill her before I let her near me?’”

You laugh. “You said that?”

“I say lots of things I don’t remember.” Roman pushes a plate piled high with sweets towards you. “I didn’t know what you’d like, so I got you everything.”

You give his knee a pat. “I appreciate you trying, Roman, but that’s way too much.”

“We’ll all share,” he insists. Kendall smiles, taking the miniature slice of German chocolate cake and setting it on his place.

“My wife catered,” he says simply. “She owns that bakery you like, Y/N. The one always open on the holidays.”

You smile softly at him. You’re happy that he’s happy. You and Roman pig out on the sweets, chattering comfortably until his eyes catch someone as they cross the room.

He somehow manages to smack Kendall’s chest from across the table and stares back into the crowd.

You and Kendall both follow Roman’s gaze. You just barely catch Marcia as she slips out of the main atrium, a man in tow.

Kendall must see something you don’t. “Give me your fucking phone,” he says quickly. Without thinking, you hand it to him and he power walks after her. You and Roman follow, albeit much slower because Kendall already looks crazy.

Kendall’s leagues ahead of you at this point, but he’s slow enough that you and Roman can tail him. You wind through the corridors until the three of you have stopped in an eerily empty hallway. Kendall is peeping into the sitting area that dead-ends the hall, and almost immediately doubles back, seemingly sick. He steels himself, then takes your phone and sticks it through the doorway and starts filming.

Peeking over his shoulder, you wince.

Marcia has a fuck buddy, and it isn’t Logan Roy.

As desperately as you want to get rid of the image of Marcia having sex from your brain, you can’t. It simultaneously makes you want to puke but also, disgustingly, elated that you now have something over her- and by proxy, Logan.

After an excruciating five minutes, the three of you had gone back to the party. You and Roman had danced a bit, and he’d admittedly embarrassed you with his extremely out-of-date moves. Despite it all, you’d found yourself laughing and having more fun than you’d had in ages.

Now, you’re struggling to unzip the back of your dress. Roman’s stooped over the sink, aggressively washing his face.

“Rome, you’re going to rip it off. Calm down,” you manage, tongue between your teeth as you continue to attempt to pull down the zipper.

He pats his face dry with a towel. “I’m being thorough.” Without being asked,he comes over to you and tugs the zipper open. “You should wear that more often.”

“I literally just got it.”

“Yeah. Keep wearing it.” His hands go to sit on your hips, gently rubbing.

“What’s with the affection all of the sudden?” He settles his face into your shoulder as you move to put your hair up. “Not that I’m complaining.”

He’s quiet for a moment. “Getting more comfortable,” he says into your skin. “I don’t… I’ve never had a relationship like this. Where we genuinely liked each other.” You stay silent, letting him gather his thoughts. “I’m just scared. But we’ve been over that before.”

”You can always tell me how you’re feeling,” you say softly.

“I don’t want to get hurt. I don’t think I’ll physically be able to handle it.” Roman pulls away from you, padding into the bedroom. You quickly change into your pajamas before following him, slipping under the covers by his side. “I also don’t want to hurt you,” he says quietly.

“What makes you think you’ll hurt me?”

“I don’t exactly have the greatest track record with relationships, do I? Behind all that hoity toity lawyer stuff, you’re so horribly kind. It makes me sick, honestly.” He’s facing you, pain flickering across his face. “People have never really liked me for me, you know? It’s always just for my money, or my brother, or Dad. It’s like… it’s like I’m not even here.”

You take a moment before responding. “I see you. You work hard, Roman. I should express my appreciation more.”

You’re right. Despite your consistent bickering in the beginning, Roman was dedicated to what you were trying to do together. Like clockwork, he’d have paperwork on your desk or news articles sent or even a mug of coffee. Recently, too- he’d helped you confirm Connor was lying, and now he apparently has dirt on his finances- and financier.

“Even though you’re honestly a jerk, I think deep down under all of that clownery you’re a good guy,” you murmur.

“You’re so backhanded,” he complains, reaching across you to pull you into him. His arm wraps around your back, the other sitting on the back of your thigh as he shifts you on top of him. You set your cheek on his chest.

“Really, Roman. I think you’re too hard on yourself.” His fingers trace circles into your skin.

“I don’t even know what I’m talking about.” You catch your eyes drooping as he speaks. “I want to try this. Seriously. Actually.”

“You can,” you murmur back. “We can.”

“I want to start acting like a real couple. I want you to trust me, to feel safe with me.”

You sigh happily as his fingers continue their ministrations. “I already do.”

“That makes you kind of stupid, really.” Roman presses a hesitant kiss to your head. “Like you said, I’m a jerk, and on top of that, I’m vain, self absorbed, wickedly good looking…”

“Oh, shut up.” You laugh lightly into his chest.

He does, for a few moments. “Y/N?”

“Hm?”

He gently takes your chin, tilting it up enough so he can look at you. You can tell he’s fighting with himself in his mind. Shakily, he presses his lips to yours.

It’s a stiff, awkward kiss, and he pulls away quickly.

“Good night, Y/N.”

☾𖤓

The next morning, you’re leaning against the wall, fighting off sleep. Your flight is bright and early, and therefore so are you. Roman insisted to carry all of your luggage out to the car, so you stand in the foyer, avoiding the outside chill of the morning. You and Greg talk about nothing while Kendall stares into his empty coffee cup, Shiv on his other side, teeth chattering.

“Hey, I’ve been meaning to tell you- I’ve gotten a few bank statements I want you to take a look at. Don’t worry about them now, though. I don’t want you stressing until we get back. I mean, I don’t want you stressing at all, and I’m just trying to preserve the peace until we get back to the States. I mean- I don’t know what I mean.”

You give his arm an affectionate squeeze, and he rubs the grogginess from his eyes.

Roman shuffles back in, his breath clouding out in front of him before he steps back into the heat. “Santa took a fat shit outside.”

“How poetic,” you mutter in response. “You have such a way with words.”

He waits for the other three to file out of the foyer before pressing a kiss to your cheek. “Just for you.”

The flight back is lethargic. Nobody wants to get back to work, least of all you. Roman’s sprawled across your lap, and you idly scratch at his scalp. Kendall sits on your other side, slumped against you with his blanket pulled over his head. Shiv once again sits across from you, her legs once again propped up on the side of your lap Roman isn’t occupying. Greg has a sofa all to himself, his legs sticking off the end as he snores lightly.

Logan, again, had elected to take a different flight. It’s for the better, anyway.

“You think I can hire a hit man without getting arrested?” Shiv asks you nonchalantly.

“I want to see you try.” You give her ankle a pat. “You’ll do great,” you tell her sarcastically. “I’ll be so excited to come see you during prison visiting hours. If you get any.”

“Oh, be quiet. I’d execute it perfectly.”

“I really do hope you’re joking. Do you know how stupid people who hire ‘hit men’ are?” you ask, making air quotes with your free hand.

“What? It’d be fun, I think.”

“Stop thinking, then, Shiv.”

The rest of the long flight goes by slowly. When you step off the stairway and onto the asphalt, you take a breath of the smoke-infused air. It’s disgusting compared to the crisp, Norwegian air. Your nose scrunches.

“Fuckin’ gross…,” Kendall mutters as he gently pushes past you, his face mirroring yours. After everyone goes their separate ways, you and Roman are left to each other in the backseat of the car taking you back to your apartment.

The rest of the day is lazy. You spend it curled together on the couch.

#succession #succession fic #succession hbo #roman roy #wambsgansshoelaces #succession x reader #turmoil #roman roy x reader #roman roy x you #roman roy slowburn #I’m back pookies

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wehaveimagineshere · 4 months

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Hello there, Ren! I absolutely fell in love with your Carlos fic, so I'm here to ask for another one! The prompt I was thinking of is Carlos' s/o (gn preferably) comforting him through PTSD symptoms like a recurring nightmare or a flashback (cuz his backstory is insanely traumatic + the whole RC incident is bound to mess someone up). He's such a sweet guy who deserves more love, and I love the way you write him. I'll definitely be back for more from time to time. You both have a nice day!

Hi Anon! Thank you so much! <3 Carlos deserves so much love and I got so excited seeing another request for him! Yes, please, come back as often as those ideas hit! I can't wait to see you again (:

I hope you have a good day too! And a good week, cause you definitely made mine!

~*~*~

People never quite understand how suddenly things can change.

Movies have a build up, an obvious path from "here" to "there." The little easter eggs, the little foreshadowing, the description on the back of the case. But real life is never so simple.

A five year old could never understand why his mother pulls him from his bed in the middle of the night, tears streaming down her face. Her hushed but frantic whispering that everything would be alright as the door smashes open and hands drag both of them out into the living room.

The men, unfamiliar and smelling of sweat and blood, are just hazy silhouettes in his memories now, in his dreams. Silver moonlight glinting off their guns, mechanisms he'd glimpsed once in his older brother's hands but not knowing the name for at the time, pierce through the dark as more figures drag out the rest of his family.

As they drag out his older brother, who won't go down without a fight.

His dreams can never decide exactly how long that fight lasts. Seconds or minutes, all he knows is the blur of fists, the laughing and tauntings of the strange men, the screaming and pleading of his mother, and that one gunshot.

The gunshot that silences his mother as she wraps her body around his, as if she can hide him from the present, from the pain and confusion it'll bring. She can't cover his ears, though, as the wet thud of his lifeless brother hits the floor.

As the man with the gun aims it at his mother, quiet, dark words spitting from his mouth before he leaves, taking his gang with him.

His mother rocks, his small frame rocking with her, as she sobs into his torn and dirty shirt. As she mutters that signature "It's okay, we'll be okay," her fingers threading through his hair in an attempt to soothe.

A five year old child cannot comprehend death, killing, so he doesn't know to not look. To not peek through the curtain of his mother's hair to the heap on the floor. He doesn't understand why his brother doesn't move, why he--

But he does. It starts with a twitch of the fingers, then a spasm in the arms. Bracing his arms underneath him, his brother jerkily lifts himself up, saliva and blood dripping from his lips. And when he looks up...

It's the eyes of the dead. Milky white, skin ashen and sickly. He knows, then. Some deep, primal part of him knows that he's staring at his reaper, that his mother has no idea their deaths will come in the form of her own son, brought back by the devil himself.

His brother lunges, and he can do nothing as his mother screams, ripped away from him as blood spurts and bodies writhe as she tries to get away, as his brother clamps on with inhuman strength, teeth deep in her throat--

Carlos jerks away, air sawing into his lungs as his eyes dart about. Muscles tight, unsure if he should move or stay, he swings his head--

"Hey," comes a soft whisper. "You're alright, Carlos. You're okay."

"It'll be alright, little Carlos, we'll be okay."

Moving to stand but finding them bound, his shaking hands start yanking at the bindings.

"Carlos. Sweetie. You're in bed. You got tangled up in the blankets. You're okay. You're safe."

"Sweet little Carlos, mommy will protect you, it'll be okay."

The ripping of fabric finally makes him pause, heart slamming against his ribcage.

"Carlos. It was a dream. Just a dream. We're in bed, the doors are locked, it's just you and me."

Curling in on himself, he tries to focus on his breathing, to try not to hyperventilate.

You help walk him through it.

"Deep inhale through your nose, honey. Count to five. One. Two. Three. Four. Release. There you go. One more time. One. Two."

He follows your instructions the best he's able, clinging to the soothing sound of your voice, clinging to each count and exhale, and slowly, oh so slowly, the death grip on the ripped comforter relaxes.

"There you go. I have some water. Do you want some?"

It takes him a few seconds to nod.

"Alright. It's a glass. It's a little cool to the touch."

Shifting so he's facing you, the glass in your hand outstretched, he takes it and swallows deeply, not realizing how hot he is until the cold water slides down his chest, shocking his senses.

He puts the cool glass up against his sweat slicked forehead.

"It should be about three in the morning right now," you continue, feet tucked underneath you. "I turned on the light in the hallway and drew the right side of our curtains. I also got some towels."

Setting down the glass on his bedside table, he turns back to a hand towel laid neatly in front of your knees. Absently he reaches for it, dragging it across his brow.

"I can wet one or two if you need. Just let me know."

Exhaling, he finally attempts his voice. "I'm alright."

Deep, gravelly, haunted. He barely even recognizes it.

"I know, it's okay."

Lowering the towel, he holds out a hand, one you gingerly take. Tugging you close, he rests his forehead against the crook of your neck and inhales, the familiar, soothing scent of you wrapping around his heart.

"May I run my fingers through your hair?"

He nods. "I'm alright," he says again against your skin, the words a little more stable.

"Okay." You start at the base of his neck and run up, catching the small knots in his hair and gently working them out, nails softly scratching his scalp.

He practically melts, an arm snaking around your waist to draw you onto his lap. Wrapping your free hand around him, you rest your head against his as you keep threading your fingers through his hair, not caring how drenched in sweat he is.

Sweat can be washed off.

"When I say I'm the reason you never get any sleep," you hear him say, "I don't mean like this."

You huff a chuckle. "Nobody needs to know that. It'll remain our little secret."

There's an uncertain pause. "Thank you."

"Carlos. I told you I'd always be here for you, and I meant it." You kiss his temple. "I always mean it."

"I know. I just..." He squeezes you tight for just a moment.

You squeeze back. "We've all got our monsters under the bed. Some are just bigger than others. And thankfully, we share a bed now."

His lips brush your shoulder as he smiles. Lifting his head to place a kiss on your forehead, he moves down to your cheek, then captures your mouth.

It's soft and sweet, the kiss, the thank you that Carlos could never fully put into words. He pulls away for just a moment, to look into the eyes that have saved him time and time again, before drawing you in once more.

You place a hand against his cheek as he pulls away again, a palm he nuzzles into. The smile that blooms across your lips squeezes his heart, once again reminded of how lucky he is to hold you, kiss you, call you his.

"Think you'll be able to sleep?" you ask, the movement of your lips distracting.

"Not for a while," he replies.

"Well, we have more of that show we were watching."

He dips to your lips again and murmurs against them, "We're already in bed."

Your mouth quirk and you pull back to give him a look. "At the very least, you need to wipe all this sweat off."

The sly smirk that finds its way onto his lips feels right, a little more himself. "Just so you can get me all sweaty again?"

"So I know you're sweaty because of me," you respond without a beat, a playful grin brightening your face as you reach for a towel and smoosh his face in it.

"A cruel Majesty you are," comes the faux hurt muffled reply.

You kiss what you can only guess is his nose through the towel. "You love me though."

"I do."

Releasing the towel, your smile softens as you see the look on his face. The openness only you're allowed to witness. "Love you too, big guy."

#resident evil #carlos oliveira #carlos oliveira x reader #carlos oliveira/reader #gn reader #gender neutral reader #carlos oliveira x gn reader #carlos oliveira/gn reader

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