#It's just so awful and it's so normalized here

[pricesprincess]

smut mdni | cheating | fat! babysitter! fem reader + edited repost from my old blog

You've heard the term home wrecker.

But how can you wreck one when you were invited in it to watch over the children that occupied it?

Their mother was a classic case of regretting her life choices and marrying too young, meaning she was gone more than home trying to replace the years she wasted on her marriage and motherhood.

Her job was more important, and you were pretty sure whatever man she was fucking was doing a good enough job because a few times she came home late, happy as a plum, and glowing with that after-sex look and the smell so heavy on her like an expensive perfume.

You were familiar with that scent, seeing that John had his fingers hooked in your cheek as he fucked you in the very same bed his wife was in earlier that day, making you cream on his cock twice.

Everything started off slow.

It was a few nights a week when John knew he had to stay late while their mother was gonee and there was no one to watch his four children. Two sets of twins, born short

One evening when you got all his kids down John cornered you in the living room for a drink and somehow you ended up gagging on his cock before sinking down on the fat girth with a small muffled moan.

"Don't be too loud, sweet'eart; we don't want to wake anyone up."

Then it progressed into every night you came over, even for an hour, because the kids wanted to see you, and they loved the way you tucked them in before reading a bedtime story.

Soon John proposed you move into the guest room downstairs, and with it was a significant pay raise, so you did it without a problem; plus, it meant unlimited access to him, the man you were beginning to fall in love with. You were going to burn yourself doing this.

You were playing house and did it so well too.

The cold gold of his ring didn't bother you when he grabbed the fat of your hips to pull you back on his thick cock that speared you open on him as he had your face buried in his pillow and floating in pure bliss.

John was as rough as he was sweet.

He made sure to never do anything suspicious with you in front of anyone so the bite marks he left were always hidden under your clothes.

But you could never leave anything like that on him due to his wife finding out lest she catch him naked somehow.

Monday morning you were in the kitchen after dropping the kids off at school when John pressed you against the counter. "You love playing house with me, my sweet housewife who wants to give me another baby."

Those words shouldn't make your pussy flutter around his cock later that night when his wife left shortly after a quick dinner and a goodbye, leaving you to be the wife 2.0, and you didn't mind it for now.

Your fingers dug into his shoulders as you humped his dick; his hands roamed the curves of your body, rough hands tracing the dips between your thighs and hips, squeezing the fat, watching the flesh spill between his thick and calloused fingers.

Then he pressed the rough heel of his palm against your belly. "You'll grow, my baby, right here."

His words were husky and filled with a promise as he used the advantage of his feet on the bed to fuck up into you, thrusting deeply, making you feel every inch of his throbbing cock that pulsed.

He loved feeling the way your cunt tried to milk him whenever he mentioned you being his wife and the mother of his children.

John glided his thumb against your swollen clit, watching you come undone on top of him. Your pussy was so wet and creamy, leaving a ring around the base of him, creating a milky white mess.

During the day you'd have to pretend everything was normal and you didn't just have John's cum splattered on your face in the shower last night before you were fucked against the cold tiled wall.

It was awful to have him like this.

Only in the late-night hours when sleep fell upon everyone would you be up letting John eat his cum from your gaping cunt and then spit it back out, followed by two thick fingers that slid inside.

He loved to make sure everything stayed like that even though there wasn't a chance he could get you pregnant with birth control.

But the fantasy was fun to think about.

Being pregnant with John's baby, knowing that he's coming home to you and your children.

They already accidentally called you Mom, which you immediately curbed. You love them like your own, but you didn't feel comfortable with that seeing you're the babysitter, and you didn't want to cause any more problems.

His wife would definitely make the rest of his life hell if she ever found out, so you two met in secret after all the lights were turned off.

Weeks bled into months, and you were growing tired of the games. It ate away that the woman who no longer cared for John still got her way and had his last name.

The ring still sat on her finger, and you were pretty sure they even had sex sometimes, but you didn't want to know, so you didn't ask.

Friday evening after you and John tucked the children in for the evening you two ended up in the living room where you knew John would have you spread out on the couch to fuck you dumb.

"I think it's time for me to look for another job and place to live."

John hadn't been expecting you to tell him that.

The two of you sat on the couch staring at each other. The moment he moved, you jerked back and scooted over to the plush armchair.

Tension filled the room as you held the torrent of tears back but just barely when the front door swung open, followed by Mrs. Price.

Immediately, John focused his attention on her, giving you the perfect opportunity to slip out of the room and head to your already packed car.

It hurt to leave the children, but your heart couldn't take it anymore, so you left.

John called you twenty minutes later, his photo popping up on your phone, making your heart clench thinking of the man you fell in love with but couldn't have.

"Hello?"

"You left."

His voice was gruff, laced with the pain of your departure.

"I did. We were just playing house, Price, living out a fantasy. I'm not your wife, nor will I ever be. We were stupid to begin what we did."

You hung up and blocked his number but still kept the text messages and pictures you took of him. His smile met his eyes whenever he looked at you and his kids but never his wife.

It didn't take you long to find another job, making sure to keep to yourself and tend to the children, that is, until the wife fired you, promptly saying you like to sleep with the dads.

Thankfully, she had tact about it, unlike most of the other women who called you an assortment of names, carving your stomach into a pit.

John must be telling people that you're ruining homes; there was no other way for these people to even assume that you're like this.

The last job interview left a bitter taste in your mouth after hearing the parents talk about you in such a manner that made your skin tight with hurt and your eyes water as you left their home in a rush.

Rent was due, and so were your other bills.

Babysitting was the only way to get all that taken care of. Now you were staring down at the list of things that needed to be paid by the end of this month, which was coming quicker than you wanted.

Sitting in the driveway of your last failed interview, you unblocked John's number and jabbed at your phone screen, dialing his number by heart now. It's been close to a year since you started working for him.

Not only did he pay you well. You were also living in his home, and now you have no job or place to live.

"Hello, love."

His voice grated on your nerves at how he greeted you all smug-like, your fingers tightened around your device, and you growled softly.

"Mr. Price, I need my last paycheck."

In the background you heard his children calling your name, and part of you knew that he would use them to tug on your heartstrings. "The kids would like to see you. Come over, and I'll get it to you."

It felt like a custody agreement more than anything. The moment your car pulled into the lavish circular driveway, the front door burst open as four children made a beeline to you when you got out.

John watched from the front porch as you hugged each of his kids, listening to each one as they babbled on about how much they missed you and what they did while gone.

Now you had to face the music and get John out of your life.

[lsunstreakerl]

Very nicely asking with a big 🥺 for catboy!Max with Rico

Do what you want with that ♡

this was supposed to be all smut but actually ending up being 4.1k words of catboy max finding his forever home and getting fucked. as ver2 normally goes, this is tooth rotting fluff, and I may find myself inclined to revisit them later. explicit!

pairings: rico verhoeven/max verstappen

relevant heads up: catboy max, maxussy, hybrids are not treated like people, toys, breeding kink (right at the end)

The hurt sets in on the car ride back home. Rico can feel every hit, every bruise, and the exhaustion is starting to sink in as he comes down, head resting on his folded hands.

He just wants to get home, maybe run a bath, and sleep.

He groans when he remembers the small snag in that plan— he's somehow ended up emergency housing a catboy for a friend who works with a rescue agency, and it was supposed to be dropped off today.

It's a great first impression, not even being home when the poor thing is dropped off, and now he's going to come inside, clearly bruised up— he'll be lucky if he sees the hybrid at all.

The house is quiet when he steps inside, keys dangling from his limp fingers. There's a box on the counter, and when he steps closer he realizes it's stocked with snacks.

The hybrid has a fondness for stroopwaffles, apparently. There's a handwritten note at the top with a lengthy apology about having to dump it on Rico last minute, and the barest amount of information.

The catboy's name is Max, he's standoffish, and the rescue agency thinks he might be a nontraditional hybrid— his eyebrows fly up when he reads the current guess.

He hadn't signed up for a snow leopard in his house when he'd agreed, he thought he'd end up with a European domestic.

There's no sign of Max, but Rico takes a package of snacks into the bedroom with him. He raises his voice slightly as he pulls his shirt off, tossing it into the basket in the corner of his room.

"Hello Max. Sorry I wasn't home when you got here. My name is Rico, I live alone, and I would really like to take a bath, so please do not destroy anything."

He knows that the hybrid won't understand him, but it makes him feel better to attempt and communicate, even if it's pointless.

There's still no sign of Max as he settles into the sunken bathtub, water hot around him as he leans back and closes his eyes. The catboy is probably hiding in a closet somewhere, or maybe under the bed— he's not expecting to see him right away. Assuming Max had even been dropped off at all, because if he hasn't Rico is going to feel incredibly dumb, talking to himself out loud in an empty house.

------

He's dozed off in the water when he wrinkles his nose. It tickles slightly, like there's hair at it, and he blinks his eyes open, confused and needing to sneeze.

He's eye to eye with Max. The catboy is stretched out on the floor, eyes wide as he bats at Rico's face again. He has short little claws, still dressed in traditional transport gear, the black compression wear standing out against his pale skin and bright eyes.

There's short ears poking up out of his hair, and he has the longest tail Rico's ever seen, swishing against the tile of the bathroom floor as he swats at his nose.

He can't help the grin tugging at his lips, leaning his head forward so that Max's fingers pause against his face.

"Oh, you're pretty. Hello, baby."

Max makes a small chirp, fingers pressing against Rico's cheek as he tilts his head, ears twitching. He doesn't seem standoffish at all— just curious. Rico patiently lets him explore, careful not to move and accidentally startle him. The water has started to get lukewarm, and he's really wishing he'd taken painkillers earlier, but the hurt is overridden by the quiet sense of awe he's feeling at Max.

It only lasts so long. Eventually the pain is impossible to ignore, and he blows air out of his nose softly, catching Max's attention from where the catboy has been inspecting the shower.

Max's head swivels around, ears twitching as he looks at Rico.

"I'm going to move, baby. It's probably going to scare you, and I'm sorry, but I am seriously hurting, and I would like to not be doing that."

Max makes a soft chirping noise, but as soon as Rico leans forward to stand, he's out of the room in a blur of black and blonde, disappearing around the corner.

Rico winces, easing himself out of the tub and drying off. He doesn't bother with a shirt, just low slung sweatpants as he walks into the kitchen. The painkillers are easy enough to locate, and he's washing them down with tap water when he can feel eyes on him.

Max is peeking over the back of the couch, ears flat against his head, pupils blown.

Rico wiggles his fingers at him.

"Hi."

Max continues staring, and Rico fumbles in the box for the stroopwaffle container. He bites his tongue to silence his laugh at the speed his ears perk up when the package opens, plastic crinkling loud in the kitchen.

He breaks one in half, extending his hand out slowly. He's not sure what kind of environment Max came from before, and he doesn't particularly want his fingers bitten off. Max watches him warily, eyes narrowing as Rico stops, arm fully extended.

The stroopwaffle half disappears from his hand in a blur, and Max darts off the couch and around the hallway, completely silent. Rico doesn't even hear his footsteps— it must be the hybrid genes.

He shrugs, popping the other half in his mouth. Max taking it at all is a good sign, and he's still got all his fingers, so it's a minor victory.

------

He wakes up slowly in the morning, overheated. His body feels heavier than normal, and when he blinks his eyes open he freezes.

Max is lying on top of him, hair brushing his nose. There's a deep purr vibrating through his chest, and his tail is wound around Rico's ankle.

His heart pangs. He's never considered having a catboy of his own before, but he feels like his heart is going to squeeze out of his chest, overwhelmingly fond of the hybrid sleeping on top of him.

Max's ear twitches, and blue eyes crack open to stare at him. The catboy doesn't move, holding Rico's gaze.

He clears his throat softly.

"Good morning baby. Comfortable?"

Max shifts his head closer, gingerly butting up against Rico's jaw. It's heartbreakingly gentle, like he thinks Rico might reject him.

He leans into it instead, feeling the purring intensify as Max scents him.

He's practically melting on top of Rico, tucking his head neatly under his jaw, and he's wondering how anyone could've possibly not wanted him.

He slowly brings a hand up, stroking lightly down Max's spine, mildly fearful of getting his throat ripped out— but Max chirps into his neck, nuzzling closer.

"You're so sweet�� makes me want to keep you."

Rico leaves the base of his tail alone, because he doesn't have a death wish, and instead pokes Max gently in the side.

"But I need to do my morning run, so you're going to have to get off of me."

Max doesn't budge.

Rico sighs, slowly starting to roll them until Max slides onto the mattress, which earns him a disdainful meow.

"I'm sorry, but you seemed pretty happy to stay there all day,"

He runs his hand along Max's side gently, wiggling his fingers.

"And I've got work to do."

------

Rico is four miles into his run when Max catches up to him, although he doesn't notice until another jogger waves at him.

"Gorgeous cat there mate!"

"Thank you! Wait, Wha—"

Rico spins around, and Max chirps at him. His ears are pushed forward, eyes bright, and his tail is swaying gently behind him.

"Oh my— Max, how did you— I locked the door!"

Max rolls onto the balls of his feet before leaning forward again, looking at Rico expectantly.

"Sweetheart, I don't even— you can't come free roaming, you don't have tags, or a harness, or a collar, or— or anything."

Max meows, nudging into Rico's chest. He takes a slow breath in, pinching the bridge of his nose as he counts.

He gets to 33 before he decides.

"Fine. But only this one time, okay? You can't free roam with me, I'm not your owner."

He really shouldn't be doing it at all— he should be walking Max back to the house, one hand securing him at all times, because he's not his. He's a foster, unchipped and unregistered, and that means he has to stay put. Strays don't do well in the wild, and he's so sweet, so pretty— Rico doesn't want to think about how he would fare.

Instead, he's letting Max finish the run with him. He keeps Max directly at his side, within eyesight the entire time, and when they finally get back to the house he's panting, sweat running down his back.

Max seems perfectly content, chirping at Rico happily at he smiles and drops into a stretch, arms high above his head.

Rico is captivated by the lines of his body, the casual elegance and power carried on his frame. All cat hybrids are pretty, but Max is something wilder. He's not a breed diluted down to look pretty and laze around— he's active, hints of solid muscle under his skin.

He sighs, looking fondly at him.

"Point made, kitty. You don't like being cooped up, I get it."

------

He sets the phone down with a low groan, dragging his fingers through his hair. The rescue service had called, just to tell him they weren't able to locate any placements for Max. There's a few catch and release programs for truly wild hybrids, but Max has been around people too long. He's too domesticated now, and he wouldn't survive on his own.

It's put Rico in a situation. He has Max— indefinitely— who needs to be active, out and about far more than the average catboy.

As it stands, Rico can't provide that, despite his lifestyle near perfectly aligning to what Max needs.

He can afford the specialized diet, he can afford accommodations to take Max around the world with him, he's an athlete constantly on the lookout for new ways to be active.

He's a perfect fit.

Rico drums his fingers against the table, clicking his tongue.

"Maxy baby, come here."

Max perks his head up from the couch, stretching fully before slinking off of it and making his way over. His ears twitch as his head cocks, reaching over to play with Rico's fingers.

"You want to stay here? With me?"

He chirps, butting his head against Rico's shoulder. Rico presses a quick kiss between his ears, rubbing at the back of his neck.

"If you weren't so sweet I wouldn't consider it, but..."

------

"Max, baby, you need to— hold still—"

Rico gives up, tossing the leash to the side before he manages to snag Max by the back of the neck, yanking them both down onto the floor. Max likes to roughhouse, and it's convenient that Rico's made himself a tidy little career out of that kind of thing.

He gets a leg around Max, fingers gripping his wrists together as he pins them above his head. Max shamelessly grinds up onto his dick, thighs shiny with slick.

Rico sighs, pointing a finger at his face.

"You love ski trips, so I'm not sure why you are always so determined to be an ass on the way there."

Max makes a plaintive noise, wiggling his hips. The end of his tail flicks against the floor, and his pupils are wide, dusty pink on his cheeks.

Rico raises an eyebrow, sparing a moment to mourn his sweatpants before he readjusts so his weight is pinning Max's hips. Near immediately his catboy starts to try and grind against him, fingers curling helplessly into his palms as he squirms.

His free arm bats around at the table before Rico finds what he's looking for— he'd dropped the toys once he realized Max was trying to lead him on a merry chase around the house.

Max catches sight of the dark purple silicone and yowls, ears pinning flat.

"I know, I know, but you don't like flights. This works best for everyone."

Sure, it leaves Max incapacitated for the duration of the travel period, but Rico doesn't mind carrying him around.

He pins Max's legs apart with his knees, rubbing the tip of the toy through his soaked cunt a few times, watching it start to glisten with slick before he pushes it in.

His hips jerk up under Rico's weight, lashes fluttering as the toy stretches him wide, pushing deep inside. It's textured with bumps and ridges, and it's slightly wider at the base— Rico has to give it some encouragement to lock itself into his catboy's pretty pussy, slick shiny on his legs.

The front of the base curves and locks over his clit, and Rico presses his fingers carefully to make sure it's comfortable for Max, not pinching anywhere it isn't supposed to. He lets go of Max's wrists, using his now freed hand to scratch through his hair, rubbing at the base of his ears.

"Good boy."

Max starts up a low purr, watching Rico with anticipation as he grabs the plug, dragging it through the dripping slick. It's shorter, wide at the base, with a unique bump along the top. It'll stimulate Max's tail while it's inside of him, rubbing against the sensitive glands whenever he moves.

The tip of it pushes into his ass easily. Rico had spent ages stretching him out earlier in the morning, nose buried deep in his cunt as he worked him open on his fingers, Max wailing above him. It's paying off now as the toy worms its way inside, encountering little resistance.

Max trembles as it settles into place, softly panting. His tail flicks against the floor before brushing against Rico's knee, curling at his thigh, and he leans down to kiss him, squeezing at his chest.

The tension that had started to build in his catboy slowly seeps out as he makes soft little gasps into Rico's mouth, fingers curling at his shirt. The kiss is filthy, small claws digging pinpricks into his side as Rico pins him in place, and he gets lost in it, the slick slide of Max's mouth, the warmth of him underneath his hands.

He hadn't considered how nice this part of owning Max would be. His kitty loves kisses, loves when Rico settles on top of him and lazily grinds while they make out. He's perfectly happy to stay under him for hours, liquid and malleable to whatever Rico wants. It's intoxicating.

He pulls back and Max pouts, lips kiss swollen and spit slick, cheeks red. His ears flick as Rico sits back, carefully pulling Max with him.

"You ready for your transport gear?"

Max can't necessarily understand him, but he's brilliant at pattern recognition, and he knows that transport gear means trip. His eyes brighten as he starts out a loud purr, butting excitedly against Rico's chest.

He laughs, picking Max up and draping him across his shoulder on the way into the bedroom. Max's hips wiggle against his shoulder, tail flicking as Rico pinches his ass, earning him a high pitched yelp.

"You excited, sweetheart?"

He tosses Max onto the bed with a wide grin, and Max scrambles to roll off of his back and lay out against his front, hips pushed up. He's bright and alert, still flushed at his cheeks and chest, but that's going to be a permanent fixture for the next several hours, due to the toys.

Rico digs out the transport gear from its drawer. Black leggings, blue athletic shorts, and a soft compression top. it's designed to keep Max comfortable while avoiding chafing from his harness and collar, and while Max isn't required to have his legs cuffed together for the flight— at least, not on the airline Rico is taking— he still has to have the equipment on, just in case.

"Chest up Maxy."

He taps at Max's sternum, and he goes easy, holding still and wigging his head through the top of the shirt. He can adjust it himself to sit comfortably against his skin as Rico works on the leggings, double checking the fit of the toys inside of him. They're snug and secure, Max's cunt wet and puffy at the edges where it's stretched around the toy. He's not worried about size discomfort, because Max takes his cock on the regular, but he wants to make sure there's no unexpected irritation.

Once he's satisfied, he slides the shorts over the leggings, checking to make sure Max's tail isn't pinched. His hips push up into Rico's hand as he feels at the base of his tail, whimpering softly.

"It's alright baby, I'm just checking. You're okay."

He presses another kiss to Max's lips before dropping a light one on his nose. The real gear is folded carefully in the drawer, and he runs his fingers across it to check all the rings and connectors. He keeps his equipment in good shape, and Max's is no different.

The harness fits snug across Max's chest, a large leather panel at the front and back, the two sides connected with straps and rings. Max is patient as Rico puts it on, although there's an excited wiggle he can't quite shake, and he keeps pressing forward eagerly into Rico's hands.

Rico hooks his finger into the ring at the front, tugging at Max to make sure everything stays put. He pats Max on the thigh, twisting to push him facedown in the bed. The leather cuffs as easy enough— there's four of them, one on each thigh and ankle, and they can connect to each other however is needed.

Not that Rico's ever needed them. The toys keep Max docile, and Rico carries him everywhere they need to go anyways. It's just a show, to prove they're meeting regulations.

A quick pat at Max's ass, and his catboy is sliding to his knees on the floor, head tilted back so Rico can secure his collar on. He's microchipped, but the thick black leather makes it unmistakable who he belongs to. The tag information is stamped into the side, as well as Rico's logo.

Although— Max features in his Instagram often, so he's a fairly famous figure in his own right.

He pockets an assortment of gags into his carry-on bag. Max doesn't normally need them, but he'd rather be over prepared.

"You ready?"

The loud, incessant meowing Rico gets as Max launches up, butting against his chest and under his jaw, is answer enough.

------

Rico parks the car in the private terminal, twisting to look at Max in the backseat.

"Be good, baby. You know how this works."

He thumbs open the app on his phone, which loads for a moment before cheerily letting him know he's connected to his device. There's a specific setting for Max flights— it starts low, picks up for the flight, and simmers back down again closer to landing. He starts it.

Max arches up with a loud cry, fingers digging into the seat as he thrashes. Rico shushes him gently, running a hand through his hair. This part he'd cuffed Max's legs together for, on account of the way his kitty jerks around, trying to escape the vibrations. Rico nudges the intensity up as Max's eyes roll back and his muscles lock, starting to tremble at the vibrations get stronger.

"Good boy Maxy, so pretty for me. You're going to be so good on the flight, and we'll be landing before you know it, you just need to come a few times first."

Tears drip from Max's eyes at the overstimulation, limbs locked as he sobs, yanking at the cuffs helplessly, and Rico slides the intensity higher, pushing him over the edge again. Max has a high tolerance for being fucked stupid— but they'll reach it eventually, and he'll be hazy for the entire flight.

They just have to get there first.

------

Rico wakes up from his midflight nap to soft sniffles against his collarbone, Max curled tight in his lap. They're in a private cabin, and he has his hips pressed into Rico's, clinging onto him.

"Oh, baby. You're doing a good job, it's almost over."

He kisses Max's hair, running a hand down his back slowly. It's a long flight, but when he checks the tracker, they'll be landing soon. He'll spend a few hours slowly coaxing him back to normal, and then they can get started on the actual trip— he's found an open air park in the snow where Max can free roam, which means Rico will probably get pounced on from a tree once or twice.

He's got a private gym booked out, and his team is flying out tomorrow to meet with him so they can get his season scheduling figured out, but this first day is just for him and Max.

He unfolds the blanket next to them, wrapping it across Max as he shutters the window, lips pressed to his forehead.

"You're going to be so excited about this park, Maxy. It's perfect for you."

------

Rico moans, gripping Max tightly at the hips as he teases the tip of his cock through his puffy folds, drenched wet with slick. The toy is tossed aside, and Max is mewling underneath him, far gone and desperate. He's pliant, fucked out and hazy from the flight, and Rico goes for another slow drag before pushing in.

Max's eyes roll back into his head as he arches his back underneath him, wet and warm as Rico presses their hips flush. Traveling together has been a process of trial and error, but he thinks they're getting it figured out.

He grips one of Max's legs behind the knee and folds it up into his chest, fucking in deeper as Max trembles, shaking helplessly.

His head dips down into the crook of Max's neck as he starts to fuck him in earnest, hips snapping in as he nips at his ear. Tiny claws are scratching lines down his back as Max's other leg hooks up across his waist, and he's near folded in half as Rico angles up inside of him, wailing.

His teeth sink into Max's shoulder as he comes, hips grinding in slow circles against him. Max whimpers as he feels it inside of him, trembling starting to slow.

Rico doesn't normally come inside of him unless he has the rest of the day free to make sure there's no complications, but it's a quick grounding tactic for after the flight— and it's self indulgent. He pulls out slowly, index finger and thumb spreading Max's pussy wide as he watches the slow trickle of cum escaping him.

Max weakly bats at his hand, trying to push him away, and Rico laughs softly, leaning up to kiss him.

"Feeling better yet? Or do you want a bath first?"

His catboy twitches, and Rico tilts his head curiously as he realizes Max is trying to keep his hips up, whining softly as two of his fingers push inside. He can't possible want to come again, so what—

The arousal hits him so fast it's dizzying, and he knows he can't get hard again yet, but he's trying his best anyways.

"Oh— Sweetheart, you want to keep it inside?"

Max whimpers, shifting in Rico's hold before he rolls over, chest pressed into the pillow and hips up in the air. He has to shut his eyes for a moment, reminding himself that he has things to do on this trip, and he can't stay cooped up in the hotel all week just because he's discovered his pretty boy has a thing for getting bred.

He presses a kiss to the side of Max's hip, hopelessly endeared.

"You still need a bath, Max. You're being so sweet, so pretty for me, and it is,"

He takes a deep breath, palm pressed at the dip of his spine.

"So hot that you want that, but not right now."

Max makes a soft noise as Rico rolls him back over, kissing the hollow of his throat before pressing a light kiss to his lips. His kitty is cock drunk, unseeing eyes blinking up at him.

Rico mentally skims his schedule, trying desperately to think of a good time before he realizes.

He leans in close, lips brushing against Max's pulse point. His sweet boy doesn't know what he's saying, but the words drip from his mouth like a promise, a secret tucked tight between the two of them.

"When your adoption day rolls back around, I'll take the whole week off, keep you stuffed full. I won't let you waste any of it, baby."

Max mewls underneath him, arching up to press along his chest, fingers scrabbling at the muscles of his back. Rico adores him, can't remember what life was like without him— and Max is spayed, which means he can spend the entire week fucking him full of cum and keeping him that way.

He kisses gently at his neck again before swinging an arm under his legs, lifting him as he stands from the bed.

"But that's later, Maxy, which means right now,"

He grins at Max, resting limply in his arms.

"You get a bath."

[steviewashere]

Not gonna make this into a full fic, I don't think, but here's a little something I was thinking of <3 Mild hurt, mostly comfort, and a lot of Eddie getting ready to jump some bones

Steve's upset—and he believes rightfully so. Today was the day for a little bit of a trim and clean up on his hair. He booked his appointment a couple weeks before, for early in the morning right before lunch, with the same stylist he's had since his junior year of high school; the same stylist his mom sees because they're connected at the hip over the meticulous care of their heads of hair. He isn't called 'The Hair' for nothing.

Except, when he walked right up to the front counter, said his name with a shiny, charming smile, and a twinkle in his eyes—

"I'm sorry, Cherry's not in today. Flu's running rampant through her household. Tellin' ya, honey, kids are germ magnets." And the receptionist had popped her gum, whipped her hair over her shoulder, bat her eyes. "But I could hand you over to Gina? She's well trusted around her, real close with Cherry and her clients."

Of course, panicked to the soles of his shoes, Steve had blindly accepted the pass over. He thought it wouldn't be too much of a change. He thought that he could trust another pair of scissors. Well...no dice, apparently.

It's supposed to be the same thing he gets every single time. A clipping of Patrick Swayze from one of those tweeny girl magazines—he had stolen it from Erica, thank you very much—and maybe it's not supposed to be an exact replica to his gorgeous head of hair, but at least something similar. Maybe a little longer in the back, more of a swoop in the front.

Except, when he catches wind of himself in the mirror at the end of his appointment—Christ, I look like fucking Kurt Russell. He didn't even think his hair had grown out that long. Especially not Escape From New York long.

He smiles, words bit behind his teeth, and tips his normal amount. Pays for it in full without a single damn complaint. Even though he nearly bursts into tears when he gets to his car. And then, even worse, when he realizes he has to walk back through the front door of the apartment he shares with Eddie and look his boyfriend dead in the eyes. But he does so begrudgingly, every step as if it's his last.

When he opens the door, Eddie's already standing there, big grin on his face, eyes alight. "Did you get exactly what you"—

"They fucked up my hair, Eds! My hair!"

Eddie tilts his head and purses his lips, assessing the damage. "It doesn't look bad, sweetheart. Maybe a little more...more free and flowing than you prefer, but not fucked up levels of messed up."

He steps inside with a ginger door shut behind him. Doesn't want to be caught in full throttle tears on his doormat. His eyes get a little watery the longer Eddie stares at him. "But I look like fuckin' Kurt Russell, not Patrick Swayze," Steve pouts.

"Yeah, that didn't give you what you wanted exactly. But, baby, my sunshine—you really think you look awful? You know how handsome Kurt is? This whole look isn't a step down at all! It suits you pretty well!" Eddie steps towards Steve, shoving forward to paw through the waves and bends of his hair, scrunching it and viewing. "Put a little bit of mousse in it...maybe a tad of your hairspray? We could get this look elevated in a matter of seconds, make you look like a movie star down to the messy forehead strand on a red carpet."

Steve sniffs. Eyes big on Eddie's face—Eddie who isn't laughing or trying to bite back a giggle or open to make fun of it all. Just...just Eddie admiring. "You think I look handsome like this?"

"I think you're a beautiful babe with a strong mane of hair and you wear fine things well." Eddie shakes his fingers through the hair, messing with it until it falls mussed. "Like a big shot action star. Swear on it. And—hey! You know what?"

"What, Eds?"

"If you end up truly, miserably hating it after we find out how to style it, then I'll help you shape it up just as you like it. I'm sure I've got a few good photos around here that weren't sacrificed to the sun. Well, as long as you trust me with my hair scissors."

"You know how to cut hair?" Steve asks quietly.

"I've been cutting my own hair since I was in middle school. If I wasn't so set in stone on becoming a musician, I'd probably settle into being the next Frenchy, go the whole beauty school route."

He chuckles. "She drops out of beauty school, babe. Don't think that's what you want."

"Eh...maybe I'll go to learn enough about dye and trim jobs and then gallop away into the sunset on my noble steed, you, my princess, wrapped around me." For the first time since the appointment, Steve finds himself smiling—something small, but smiling—and Eddie returns it tenfold. "So...you gonna be my action movie star? Show me how big and strong you are?"

"You gonna keep combing your fingers through my hair?"

Something mischievous sparkles in Eddie's gaze. "Oh, I've got plans for all sorts of things, Stevie baby. Question is, are you gonna let me love you and your handsome do? If not, then we should get this shaped up now."

Steve sighs, dips his head in thought. He could let Eddie get his creativity out on more than just a set of lined notebook pages. But...well...Kurt Russell has been one of the first celebrities to really make Steve stop and think.

And Eddie...

Eddie seems like he'll burst at the seams if he doesn't get to live out whatever number of fantasies are swirling through his head.

"Okay," Steve agrees, purring, "show me how much you love my new look, sweetheart."

[anniebeckcalla]

white chocolate and raspberries

sweet gestures with bf!nct dream

(bf!nctdream x reader) ◦ ₊ NOT PROOFREAD! ◦ ₊WC! 1.3K ◦ ₊ CW! fluff, fluff, fluffety fluff.

masterlist | cafe | click here!

ღNOTE FROM C. It's time we had some happiness after the gloom of the recent smaus. (I'll get back to them though, they're fun to write!) I hope you enjoy this post, if took me a while to write!

haechan

“Stop wriggling, will you?” You put the eyeliner wand on the bathroom sink, rinsing your hands for the nth time. “There's more liner on my fingers than on your eyes!” Haechan shrugged. “Sorry, baby. I could hardly keep still when you're staring into my eyes like that.” He placed his hands on your waist, drawing you close. “Can't say I'm complaining, though.” Frowning, you cupped his face in your hands, meaning to reprove him. In response, he gazed up at you wordlessly. His eyes sparkled with what could only be awe and reverence; the ghost of a smile lingered on his mouth. “Forget it,” you sighed. “I can't ever stay mad at you.” “I know,” Haechan whispered back, closing his eyes as you leaned in closer to kiss him.

jaemin

You took a deep breath as you bit into the toasted cheese panini, your eyes closing to fully appreciate the sensation. The crisp bread merged perfectly with the creamy cheese; the salted butter sparked little bursts of flavour around your mouth with each chew. It was nothing short of perfection.

‘Click!’

You opened your eyes, lowering your sandwich to see Jaemin across the table. He was holding his camera up, smiling as his finger snapped away. “Not while I'm eating!” you flushed, hand hovering over your mouth. “I look awful!” Jaemin lowered his camera. “Sorry, y/n. You looked so happy just then, I just had to capture it.” He looked down at the tiny camera screen. “You look so beautiful, even while you're eating.” “Stop praising me,” you mumbled. “I mean it, y/n. You look good doing anything.” Jaemin put his camera away, reaching across the table for your hand. “If I didn't control myself, all my albums would be full with pictures of you.”

jeno

The fields and trees passed by in a blur as the train snaked across the lines at full speed. You loved the window seat, and now you were sat in one, you wanted to gaze out of the window and appreciate the scenery. However, the day had tired you out. The darkening sky and warmth of the train made it hard to keep your eyes open. “You're quiet for once,” Jeno remarked, looking up from his phone. “Normally, you'd be telling me to stop scrolling and look out of the window with you.” You didn't have the strength to reply. Instead, you gave a low ‘mm hm’. “Woah, you're really tired,” Jeno said.

There was a short silence.

“Do you, er—do you want to use my shoulder as a pillow?” he spoke up, his face reddening slightly. “I mean, you don't have to—”

You didn't need to be asked twice. You let your head rest on his shoulder, letting sleep overwhelm your mind. Jeno didn't pick his phone back up. Instead, he put his arm around your shoulders, gazing down at you with love and infatuation.

jisung

“Ready to go now, y/n?” Jisung turned around when you heard you on the stairs. A smile lit up his face when your eyes met, and he took your hand as your feet reached the floor. “I haven't done too much with this outfit, have I?” you winced. “I mean, we're only going to a house party.” Jisung shook his head. “Not at all, love. It's perfect.” He raised your wrist to his nose, inhaling your perfume. “What did you use? It smells lovely.” “Oh, just a bit of ‘La vie en rose,’” you replied, your ears burning as shyness overwhelmed you. Jisung pressed his lips to your wrist, eyes closed. “I'm so glad I get to call you mine,” he whispered, tickling your wrist. “Me too,” you whispered back, breathless with delight.

mark

The elevator always took forever to get to your apartment floor. It was annoying most days, but this evening, it marked a peaceful end to the commotion of your day at work. “Thank goodness for that,” you sighed into the stillness of the elevator as it began its descent. “Today aged me by at least 80 years.” Mark was gazing at you in the elevator mirror. “No,” he replied. “You look absolutely beautiful.” He stood behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his head on your shoulder. “We both look beautiful,” he whispered. He was right- you were both tired from the long day at work, and it had been a rough journey home, but you two still managed to look beauteous in the elevator mirror. “We complement each other perfectly, don't we?” you said, interlocking his hands with yours. “Too right we do,” Mark replied, pressing his lips on your cheek gently.

renjun

You were so deep in conversation with Renjun that you didn’t notice the bus coming to an stop, nor hear the voice of the person paying for their ticket. It was only when you felt eyes glaring at you from across the aisle that you finally turned your head to see your past in human form- your ex. He held your gaze, clearly enjoying how uncomfortabIe he still made you. “It's him, isn't it?” Renjun's voice was low as he took your hand in his, thumb caressing your knuckles. “Yes,” you whispered back, your breathing unsteady. “It's him.” “He won't hurt you, okay? I'm here,” Renjun said. “Don't even look at him. Just focus on me." You nodded, staring at his jumper. “Maybe we should walk the rest of the way,” you muttered. “Why should we?” Renjun replied. “We have more of a right to be here than he has.” You nodded, squeezing Renjun's hand in gratitude.

chenle

“Are you sure you're alright?” you shouted, fighting to be heard above the gale. You were protected from the rain by a flimsy umbrella that flapped about clumsily, but Chenle was exposed to the elements. He was drenched in rainwater, his shoes and clothes squelching with every step. The only part of him that stood a chance was his hand, that which he was using to hold the umbrella for you. “I'm fine, don't worry. There's only space for one under there,” he shouted back. You couldn't help staring at him in admiration. It was unfortunate about the rain, but he looked rather handsome with the rain running off his hair and face. His act of chivalry- letting you have the umbrella whilst holding it for you- made your heart beat an little faster. “I know this isn't a good time, but I love you,” you said. You almost thought he hadn't heard you, but then he turned to you, smiling. “I love you too,” he replied.

thank you for the comments and reblogs !! (　＾ω＾)

taglist: @cigsaftersuh @jenoleeaesthetic @pl4netx1a @jeonghansshitester @chenlezip @neodreamzenie @markkiatocafe @mejaemin (thank you so much everyone ღ)

[better-setterv2]

𝒜𝒸𝒸𝒾𝒹𝑒𝓃𝓉𝒶𝓁𝓁𝓎 𝒴𝑜𝓊𝓇𝓈 - 𝒫𝓉.4

Authors Note: Hi guys! Here is another chapter for this series. Next chapter may be in 2 days, as I did a double post today. I hope you enjoy, I’ll try to get the next part finished soon. Lots of love xx

Summary: You experience a mix of nervous anticipation and excitement as you fly to Monaco, battling with the growing curiosity about the mysterious group chat and finally arrive at the Café de Paris, unsure who you are about to meet.

Warnings: mild swearing

Taglist: @urmomsgirlfriend1 @mimisweetz @mits-vi @nebulastarr

MASTERLIST

Pt1, Pt2, Pt3, Pt4, Pt5

࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִ ֶ 𓂃࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִ ֶ 𓂃࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִ ֶ 𓂃࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊

You never knew the drive to the airport could feel so loud.

It wasn’t the traffic or the occasional honk outside the Uber window, it was you. Your thoughts. Your pulse. The way every single breath seemed too shallow to calm anything inside you.

Your suitcase sat beside you, looking far too confident for what it carried. Clothes, charger, passport and about ten pounds of pure emotional panic.

The driver had the radio on, something mellow and easy. You wanted to hate it. How dare the world be normal right now?

You opened your phone.

The group chat was its usual circus.

Pastry: Bet someone forgets their passport again. Place your bets now.

Norrified: I nominate MadMax.

MadMax: Unbelievable slander.

SmoothOperator: I hope you all lose your luggage tbh.

Hulk: Aw, it’s like watching children before a field trip.

And then, quietly, almost like a whisper -

Hammertime: Safe travels, everyone. See you soon.

You stared at it longer than you needed to. Re-read it like there was some hidden message in the spacing.

He hadn’t messaged you privately again. Not since the night you said yes.

That should’ve calmed you.

It didn’t.

You typed.

[Private Message - Hammertime 💬]

User (You): On my way.

Sent.

You chewed your thumbnail, watching the message sit there. Unread.

Maybe that was for the best. Maybe it was too soon to expect something.

Then, he read it.

The typing bubble appeared instantly.

You sat up straighter.

Hammertime: Me too.

You waited.

And waited.

But that was it.

You could have screamed. Or laughed. Or thrown your phone out the window.

Instead, you clutched it tighter.

User (You): You’re not going to say anything else?

Three dots. Stop. Three dots again.

Hammertime: I could. But I’m afraid I’d say too much. And I want the first time I see you to say it all.

You didn’t reply.

You just stared out the window.

Fingers clenched. Chest full.

The airport was fifteen minutes away.

You had no idea what came next.

But you were already falling.

࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִ ֶ 𓂃࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִ ֶ 𓂃࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִ ֶ 𓂃࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊

The airport was cold.

Not freezing, just the kind of chill that settled beneath your skin and stayed there no matter how tightly you pulled your hoodie around you.

You sat hunched over your coffee, watching a little kid drag a stuffed giraffe across the floor while their mum tried not to spill juice on her boarding pass.

Everyone was headed somewhere.

You were headed toward a maybe.

Toward someone you only knew through words on a screen. Through late night private messages and soft, unexpected confessions. Toward Hammertime - whoever he really was.

Your phone vibrated in your lap.

[Private Message – Hammertime 💬]

It never got old seeing his name. It always made your breath hitch a little. As if your body still hadn’t caught up with the fact that he was real. That this thing was real.

You opened the message.

Hammertime: You’re at the airport?

User (You): Yeah. You?

Hammertime: In a car. Driver’s quiet. Or maybe I’m just overthinking.

User (You): Same. I haven’t blinked in ten minutes. Might be in shock.

You hesitated before sending the next one.

User (You):This is…kind of crazy, isn’t it? I don’t even know any of you and I’m flying across the world just to meet you guys.

Three dots appeared. Disappeared. Came back.

Hammertime: Yeah. But it also kind of makes sense. In a weird way.

You bit your lip, smiling despite yourself.

User (You): Still not telling me who you are?

Hammertime: What if it’s better like this for now?

You paused.

Because somewhere, you agreed. Knowing too much might make it too real. Too fast. And right now, you still had the space to imagine who he could be. And that was comforting, in a way.

User (You): Then say something else. So I don’t freak out and run for the nearest exit.

Hammertime: Okay. How about this -

I’ve read our old messages more times than I’ll ever admit out loud. And I’m still not tired of any of them.

Your fingers stilled over the screen.

Your chest ached in the softest way.

User (You): You’re not what I expected.

Hammertime: Neither are you, that’s the best part.

The boarding announcement echoed across the terminal.

You stood slowly, tucking your phone into your pocket like it was something fragile. Like it held everything you were afraid to hope for.

The gate ahead was open. The flight was ready.

You stepped forward, heart pounding, still not knowing who he was.

Still wanting to find out.

࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִ ֶ 𓂃࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִ ֶ 𓂃࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִ ֶ 𓂃࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊

The descent began with a jolt.

Not the dramatic kind, just enough to remind you that the ground was getting closer and so was everything you’d been avoiding feeling since the moment you clicked accept on the Monaco invite.

You pressed your forehead lightly to the window.

From this height, Monaco looked like a scattered dream. Hazy blue coastline, winding roads, terracotta rooftops tucked into cliffs like secrets. It was all too postcard perfect, and yet somehow it made your stomach flip.

This was real now.

No more hiding behind usernames and late night texts. No more watching from the sidelines, pretending you weren’t holding your breath every time Hammertime messaged you something quiet and kind in the middle of the chaos.

Your phone vibrated the moment the plane wheels kissed the tarmac.

[Private Message – Hammertime 💬]

You didn’t even hesitate this time.

Hammertime: Touch down?

User (You): Just landed. It’s beautiful here.

Hammertime: It is, wait until you see it at night.

That stopped you for a second.

Wait until you see it.

Not “it.” You.

User (You): Is this the part where I ask if you’re picking me up?

Hammertime: I could. But then that’d ruin the mystery, wouldn’t it?

You smiled, exhausted but somehow wired.

User (You): So I’m just supposed to wander through Monaco and hope someone gives me a wink and a clue?

Hammertime: More or less. Don’t worry.

You’ll know. I’ll make sure of it.

You sat there in your seat long after the seatbelt sign blinked off, hands curled around your phone, heart beating out a rhythm you didn’t recognise.

Half of you wanted to run. The other half couldn’t wait to see what came next.

You stood slowly, grabbing your bag slipping into the stream of strangers all headed toward something.

And maybe, just maybe, one of them was him…

The air was heavy with movement.

Wheelie suitcases hummed across polished tiles. People laughed, called out and argued softly in a dozen languages. The smell of jet fuel still lingered faintly beneath the sharper notes of espresso from the nearby café and the citrusy perfume of a woman brushing past. It was overwhelming and yet strangely still. Like a moment stretched just past its breaking point.

You were barely paying attention. Eyes half lowered, thoughts tangled around Hammertime’s last message. His quiet certainty that you’d possibly know him if you saw him.

And that’s exactly when it happened.

A sharp, sudden impact to your shoulder sent you stumbling a step back, suitcase jerking to the side.

“Oh - shit, I’m sorry.”

The voice was smooth. Low. British. And deeply familiar in a way that made your skin prickle, though you couldn’t place it. You looked up.

And then froze.

He stood barely two feet from you, tall and grounded in a way that made everyone else around him blur. His hoodie was pulled low, but not low enough to hide warm brown eyes - soft but searching. His skin caught the airport light like bronze kissed by sun. There was a quiet strength in his posture, like he was always bracing for something but hadn’t decided whether to fight it or embrace it.

Then you smelled him.

Warm spice. Clean linen. A faint, smoky cologne that wrapped around you like a second skin. You inhaled before you could stop yourself. It was unfair how someone could smell like that.

He looked at you with slight concern but no panic, his hand half lifted like he’d thought about steadying you but decided against it.

“No worries,” you managed, your voice a little higher than usual. “I wasn’t watching either.”

A smile ghosted across his lips. Small, almost secretive. The kind of smile that might come with hidden thoughts and unsent messages. The kind that could unearth something in your chest if you weren’t careful.

“I guess we’re even then,” he said, and his voice had this warm rasp to it that made the hairs on your arm stand up.

For a moment, neither of you moved. You didn’t know why. You couldn’t look away from him and somehow, you felt like he couldn’t either.

Then someone behind him called out, voice casual but loud.

“Yo, we’re out front!”

He gave a soft sigh, dipped his head in apology and rolled his bag back toward the exit with that same quiet grace.

You stood there, suitcase handle warm in your hand, heart thudding unevenly. There was no lightning bolt. No grand reveal. Just something subtle and tugging and wrongly familiar.

You didn’t know who he was.

Not really.

But something inside you whispered, you’ve felt this before.

Far ahead, just before disappearing into the crowd, he glanced back.

So did you.

But neither of you said a word.

࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִ ֶ 𓂃࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִ ֶ 𓂃࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִ ֶ 𓂃࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊

The door clicked shut behind you, muffling the city’s distant hum of the rush of scooters, the glittery clatter of luxury, the salt heavy breeze filtering through the slightly cracked balcony window. You dropped your suitcase by the edge of the bed and stood there for a second, just breathing.

You’d made it.

Monaco.

The words didn’t feel real, not even standing in the middle of the sleek, sun drenched hotel suite. Everything was light marble and clean edges, a bottle of sparkling water on the table like it was daring you to pretend this wasn’t out of your league.

And yet, here you were. One accidental group chat, one too kind stranger, one missed connection in an airport later.

You sat on the edge of the bed, pulled out your phone, and stared at the screen for a long moment.

GridGremlins 🛠️

127 unread messages.

You hesitated, then scrolled to the bottom.

Your fingers hovered for just a beat, then you typed -

User (You): made it to Monaco. Barely survived the airport traffic. And yes, i did get shoved by a suitcase. Thanks for asking.

Immediately -

SmootherOperator: ayyyy someone’s officially entered chaos territory 🇲🇨🔥

Norrified: don’t forget to wave at Charles’ cardboard cutout in the gift shop. it’s tradition now.

Baguetteboi: wait wait wait - you’re here? in monaco?like actually?

Pastry: Enjoy your stay.

HoneyBadger: welcome to the jungle 🐒

You grinned, shaking your head at the chaos. But it was the next message that made you still, even though you knew you were waiting for it.

Hammertime: Glad you made it. Let me know if you need anything.

Simple. Short. But enough to send a tiny storm through your stomach.

Your fingers danced over the keyboard, hesitated, then typed -

User (You): Thanks. I almost got taken out by a guy in a hoodie at arrivals. Airport’s wild.

Three dots appeared. Then stopped.

Then appeared again.

Hammertime: Damn. Some people just have no spacial awareness.

You smirked.

If only he knew.

࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִ ֶ 𓂃࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִ ֶ 𓂃࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִ ֶ 𓂃࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊

Later than night.

Monaco glittered outside your window, the distant hum of the city barely reaching you, muffled by the heavy curtains and your own thoughts. The night felt far too still for a place this alive.

You were curled up on the hotel bed, a soft weight in the pit of your stomach as you scrolled through your phone, the bright screen illuminating your face in the dark room.

Then a message from him.

Hammertime.

The simple appearance of his name made your heart flutter in a way you hadn’t expected. You’d been alone with your thoughts for too long now, the quiet pressing in as the city pulsed on outside.

You opened the message.

Hammertime: How’s the view from your window?

You smiled softly at the question. It felt intimate, somehow. Like he wasn’t asking about the lights or the scenery, but something deeper. Something more.

User (You): It’s stunning. The lights are so bright they make everything feel like it’s glowing.

You paused. It felt like there was more to say but you weren’t sure what exactly. So, you put your thumb over the keyboard and waited, watching the blinking dots.

Then they appeared.

Hammertime: Good. Monaco should make you feel that way. Like everything’s lit up just for you.

You felt warmth in those words, the kind that wrapped around you when you weren’t expecting it. You pressed your lips together, wondering if this was what it meant to be pulled into someone’s orbit even without meeting face to face. His presence was there, steady and constant, even through a screen.

User (You): Are you always this straightforward?

A pause. Too long. Your thumb hovered over the keyboard, unsure if you’d said too much. You kept your eyes on the screen waiting for him to respond.

Finally, it came.

Hammertime: Only for the people that matter.

Your heart skipped a beat, but you didn’t have time to process the weight of the words before another message came.

Hammertime: Don’t feel pressured to respond, by the way. I know the city’s overwhelming. But I wanted to make sure you knew, you’re not alone out there.

You swallowed hard, reading the message again. The thought of being not alone in this strange city felt comforting, but it also stirred something else in you. It was the first time since arriving that you didn’t feel like an outsider.

User (You): Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind.

The reply felt hollow compared to the weight of his words, but you didn’t know how to articulate what you were feeling. How do you explain that someone’s kindness could fill the spaces in your chest you hadn’t realised were empty?

You turned your phone face down on the bed, the room too quiet now. You stared at the ceiling, the soft hum of the city below seeming to match the thrum of your pulse.

Somewhere out there, he was too. Close, but still so far away.

࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִ ֶ 𓂃࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִ ֶ 𓂃࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִ ֶ 𓂃࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊

The morning sun filtered through your hotel room curtains, casting a warm glow across the space. You had been up for a while now, but your mind felt clouded, uncertain.

The beauty of Monaco was undeniable, but so was the growing tension in your chest. The entire city seemed to hum with energy of luxury cars zipping by, tourists flocking to the shops and the sound of waves crashing against the coast.

You took a deep breath trying to shake the nerves, and reached for your phone. The group chat had been vibrating non stop since you’d woken up.

GridGremlins 🛠️

MadMax: Alright, we’ll be meeting up at 12. You ready for it?

SmoothOperator: No turning back now to meet our newbie . 😎

Hulk: Be there on time. Or else. 👀

Baguetteboi: We won’t wait. Don’t make us look bad. 😅

Pastry: If you’re not at the Café de Paris by 12, we’ll assume you chickened out.

A brief laugh escaped your lips. You couldn’t help it. Their playful yet demanding tone was something you had grown to expect. The more you read, the more the reality of this meeting settled in. You had no idea who they were behind their usernames, but soon you’d find out. You didn’t know what to expect, but that didn’t stop your pulse from quickening.

User (You): Fine. I’ll be there. You won’t regret it.

MadMax: Good. 12pm at the Café de Paris. Don’t be late. We’ll see you there.

Hammertime: Looking forward to meeting you.

Your stomach fluttered at his message. Despite everything, there was a certain comfort in Hammertime’s tone. It was almost as if he understood the nerves you were feeling without having to say anything more.

You tucked your phone into your bag, grabbed your jacket and headed out of the hotel. The streets of Monaco were already lively, even though it was still early. Tourists were making their way through the cobbled streets and the unmistakable scent of freshly brewed coffee hung in the air. You could hear the low hum of conversations as people passed by and the occasional honk of a car added to the rhythm of the city.

The walk to the Café de Paris wasn’t long, just a few minutes. But with each step, your nerves grew. It felt like you were walking toward a moment that was going to change everything, though you couldn’t quite place why.

When you finally reached the café, the outside seating area was filled with people enjoying their morning drinks. The café itself was charming, with its large glass windows and classic French architecture. But it wasn’t the café that had your attention, it was the people around it. You scanned the crowd looking for any sign of the group, but there was no immediate indication.

You stepped closer, your heart pounding in your chest. You could feel the weight of the moment - everything that had led you here. The group chat. The messages. Hammertime.

Taking a deep breath, you adjusted the strap of your bag and approached the entrance, trying to steady your nerves. The door creaked open with a soft sound as you stepped inside, feeling the cool air conditioned breeze greet you.

[klarolinexluv]

No matter who you ship her with, the other is always down bad for Lily Evans because they don’t take lightly to someone messing with her.

James Potter? Well that’s self explanatory. He’d do anything she asked, anything. Nothing is too big or small. You wrong Lily and James is looking over her shoulder with the biggest grin, the kind of grin that is terrifying to see because rage is burning in his eyes. You’ll know he is planning something but you will never know what until it’s too late.

Regulus Black? Would kill for her, without question, without hesitation. He would go to any lengths, any means necessary to protect and love her. You say something remotely negative against her, (like whispering she has weird hair or something) and you will find yourself in a world of trouble. The rumours that come out about you will be unstoppable and so believable. You wouldn’t even know who started them but Lily knows.

Barty Crouch Jr? Would also kill for her but would deny he ever did it to everyone including her. Barty is so unhinged in how he looks after what he perceives to be his and Lily is no different. Think Regulus but without any restrictions/restraint (because Reg never goes too far, Barty crosses that line gleefully).

Evan Rosier? You said something he didn’t like about Lily? Damn, I hope your aunt recovers from that horrible poison she’s suffering from. Your best friend is ill? How worrisome, here give them this cookie. Nothing bad will happen, promise. Oh, you’re struggling in a class? That’s too bad, here have this potion, it helps with focus… no there aren’t any side effects, don’t worry about it.

Pandora Lovegood? You don’t see her coming until it’s too late. She will tear anyone a new one simply for looking at Lily wrong. You don’t even think that she will do anything, she’s so nice and sweet and suddenly you are hanging from your ankles outside the great hall with no way down, you’ve been there all night.

Mary MacDonald? You will never escape her glare. EVER. You slight Lily once and Mary will hold a grudge for all eternity. She will constantly bring up things that embarrass you casually into conversation and act like that was a normal topic to talk about. She’ll basically make your life an uncomfortable mess until she grows bored of playing with you. She will never forget what you did and she will randomly start up again later just because she can.

Narcissa Black? You will never step foot outside your house ever again. Your reputation would never recover. You’d be the laughing stock of society. People will stop talking when you approach them. You’re social life would be so awkward to nonexistant. And Narcissa will catch your eye and smirk so cruelly, you’ll quickly leave without second thought.

Marlene McKinnon? She is constantly around you for some reason. Constantly lurking. She offers to be your partner in class and has a glare so strong that nobody argues. She is constantly making snide remarks to your face about you. Little things that will get on your nerves. Marlene makes your life unbearable and then when it gets to a point where you are going to break, she’s suddenly gone. You are left on the edge of your seat waiting for the other shoe to drop. She’ll pop up every so often just to keep you on edge.

Dorcas Meadows? She isn’t afraid to use her beaters bat. It’s not that she carries it around her all the time but it definitely feels like it. She never makes the threat, not verbally anyway. But she’ll stare you down with her bat in her hands, swinging it or just playing with it to make the unsaid obvious. Once on Dorcas’ shit list, it is very hard to leave it.

Remus Lupin? He is the type to sit back and wait. Let you make the mistake of insulting Lily and then he will watch as your life falls apart. You worked for hours on an essay but now it’s missing? Oh and it’s due tomorrow and it’s like the biggest paper for your grade? How awful. He’ll make you think you are losing your mind, constantly moving or taking your things without you noticing and putting them somewhere else. He’s pulling Lily to his chest and glaring so coldly over her shoulder, most if not everyone will be scared off.

Sirius Black? He will prank you. Without mercy. And you will know he is pranking you because he is always there when it happens. Itching powder in your clothes. Dungbombs in your bag. Hexing your shoe laces together. Sticking charm on your seat. Everything. He will hold a grudge for the rest of his life, you wrong the people he calls his own, especially Lily and you will never know peace again. Sirius would also go to extreme lengths to make Lily feel protected and loved.

[moralleets]

[morallee] MASSIVE UPDATE (new thumbnails, fixes, new cc, etc.)

I worked on this update for straight up months, because of the amount of cc I made so far (it's more than a 100 cc pieces in one year!) and I really hope that the waiting time was worth it!

⚠️ IMPORTANT ⚠️

please I BEG YOU delete all of the old files of mine! like, every single one of them. if you have both the new and the old versions 1. your cas will look AWFUL like a freaking mess, all thumbnail being different and stuff 2. it might will cause issues with how some things show up and work.

and when I say DELETE I actually mean DELETE, do not just replace the files (they won't actually replace anyway btw)

LIST OF FIXES AND CHANGES:

all of the files are renamed. every single one of them. that's the reason you won't actually be able to just "replace" the old files :P

all of my cc is now compatible with @sejianismodding's CAS Filters Mod! you can just tick my nickname in the search bar in CAS in filters and only my cc will show up! it works in every CAS category where there's a filter bar. all my new cc will also be compatible with this mod.

new thumbnails for all past supported cc and new from now on! I will also try to come up with new preview design ideas — to match the thumbnails. also, it's worth noting that some thumbnails presented in this post in the previews are not the ones that I actually kept (might've changed the titles, pics etc)

all of the files were updated, either textures improved, maps/tags/LODs fixed or swatches added; no more inappropriate/missing categories for my cc! yay. also — fixed all of the items that should've been disabled for random but weren't. most hairstyles were fixed and are no more inappropriately morphing, missing hat chops/LODs added! the only hairstyle that still does not have hat chops at all it's Ozzie's.

if you want some specific examples of the work I've done, here you go:

Angel Dust Suit — I added the little heart-shaped button on the back that I only noticed on his suit after I initially released his CC.

Lucifer Hair (all variants) — they were all deforming weirdly in the ear area — I fixed that. I also changed the hat chops for the hat-specific variants to work with future stuff that I'll release. The textures were HQ, but also not really, so I compressed them back to 1024x2048 and their files weight half of what they were before.

Vaggie Pilot Dress — the weights and uv_1 were really AWFUL on this one and it had a lot of gaps in between some parts of the mesh, which I fixed.

Vox TV Head, Pointy Demon Feet, Cherri Bomb Hair and probably some other items — all of those did not have other LODs, so if you ever experienced cc suddenly changing when scrolling out OR if you're playing on low graphics and in the gameplay these items were not showing up correctly IT'S PURELY MY FAULT and they will show up normally now!

okay I probably can go back to listing less specific changes I made!

some scars/body details are now available in more than one category (tattoos, body skin details, body scars etc.)

tattoos fixed and now work with the new business and hobbies categories system and work with the tattoo layers!

new versions of some old cc pieces! Lucifer Coat and Lucifer Vest got new versions with better bow ties, Alastor Coat now also comes in two versions< the second one being with torn a overcoat Blitzo's Coat got an Asmodean Crystal Version! Charlie Suit now comes as a full-body piece too!

all default eye colours are now close to each other in the swatch tab, and not randomly thrown somewhere in between other swatches as it was before due to me not understanding how DisplayIndex works for eye swatches

some meshes edited to have less polygons/cleaner uv_1 (morph) maps or to fix weight issues. all cc from now on also won't have any of those issues because now I know how it can be fixed easily!

A LOT of the previous hairstyles RETEXTURED with several options and are now compatible with @raccoonium's splits, racoon tails, ombres and roots!

those hairstyles being:

Charlie Hair, Lucifer Hair and Lilith Hair – two new options each, Split and Strands. Strands gives the same look as the Original versions do, but yeah, they're overlay-compatible!

Millie Hair – Split version

Angel Dust Hair – Strands version

NEW HAIRSTYLE Verosika Hair – has 4 options/versions, the Original one, the Original + Extra Strands, the Bangs and the Split.

some hairstyles now have indicators on their thumbnails, if they're the "extra strands" version of a hairstyle (the little XST box) or if they're not compatible with hats (the crossed baseball hat)

modified DisplayIndex numbers! now in CAS all of the items I make will be automatically sorted by fandoms AND by characters. it's probably not that noticeable right now, but as time goes and I'll make more outfits for all of the characters it'll become more clear and useful!

you can find the whole list of DisplayIndex numbers here:

LINK TO GOOGLE DOCS FILE: DISPLAYINDEX NUMBERS SHEET (FOR REFERENCE PURPOSES ONLY)

DOWNLOAD

INDIVIDUALLY (SFS)

Hazbin Hotel CC

Helluva Boss CC

Miscellaneous CC

ALL FILES AT ONCE (files by character)

(PATREON, PATRONS ONLY)

CLICK HERE

a little disclaimer (yes, after the actual deed)

I do feel a bit weird/bad/guilty about paywalling merged files, but I do put a lot of time and effort into making this stuff... so it's kind of fair if you spend time/effort downloading it too or donate? I really hope you get my point of view and don't think I'm a greedy bastard... (⁠；⁠^⁠ω⁠^⁠）

I also created a first-month-discount for all new patrons in honor of this update so yeahhhh c:

I'm really grateful for any kind of your support tho, financial or just... just being here? I really, really appreciate that. I'm glad to be part of this community and have such wonderful people following me and waiting patiently for new thing I make.

! ! NEW CC ! !

(yes, these are available on SFS and Patreon both as separate files and merged for patrons as always!!)

• [morallee] Verosika Hair

ORIGINAL POST — DOWNLOAD

• [morallee] Angel Dust High Heel Boots

ORIGINAL POST — DOWNLOAD

• [morallee] Husker Wings

ORIGINAL POST — DOWNLOAD

• [morallee] Husker 3D Fully Animated Eyebrows

ORIGINAL POST — DOWNLOAD

• [morallee] Vox Gills + Trans Masc Version Swatches

tumblr please don't content label this post these are male boobs okay there's nothing sexual or suggestive about this post tumblr please 😭

ORIGINAL POST — DOWNLOAD

• [morallee] Blitzø Harvest Moon Festival Outfit REMADE

ORIGINAL POST — DOWNLOAD

AND NOW WE NEED TO TALK

under the cut ofc

I started creating CC for a few reasons — first off, I wanted to see my favorite characters in my favorite game. Naturally, that led to me messing around and figuring out how to actually make that happen. Second, I wanted to express my creativity through 3D modeling, texture painting, and character creation, especially since I felt like my general art skills weren’t quite enough to fully bring my ideas to life.

It’s been over a year now since I started this blog, and I’ve made more than 100 pieces of CC — clothes, hairstyles, accessories, and a bunch more. Every single time I see people mention me in CC creators spreadsheets or literally just tagged I feel so damn good. I feel seen, I feel helpful, I feel important. I’m genuinely so proud of everything I’ve done and I’m incredibly thankful to everyone who stuck around and supported me through it all, even when I took breaks or didn’t always meet everyone’s expectations.

I’M NOT SAYING I’M QUITTING

— if that’s what you’re worried about.

But honestly? Holy fuck, I’m exhausted. Like, really tired. I took on way too much responsibility and didn’t even realize it until recently. I pushed so hard for so long that I kinda burned myself out without noticing.

Maybe it’s the fatigue after this whole update thing that's talking. Maybe it’s something else. I’m not sure.

What I am sure about is how much progress I’ve made in my art journey. Making Sims 4 CC has helped me grow SO much — working in both 2D and 3D gave me a crazy boost in skill and confidence. For the first time in years, I feel good about my art. I’m making stuff I actually love. I’m even selling my fan merch — that’s a dream come true for me!

Creating Sims 4 CC became such a big part of my life. There were days where it was all I could think about — turning on my computer and diving into it. It’s fun, it’s exhausting, and I still love it. Right now... I just need some time. To explore more aspects of what I can/want to do, perhaps.

I’ll still be making CC, but I don’t want to make promises or commit to anything 100%. I want this to stay fun. I hate that my hobby became something so stressful that it’s hard to even go back to it. I want to make CC because I feel inspired, not because I said I would. And I also want to just... y’know, work on other fandoms too, shitpost with my sims, share random screenshots, play dynasties — be a regular simblr, too.

Thanks so much for reading this. I hope it makes sense. I’m not great with words when I need to be sincere (honestly, I'm just not great with words at all), but I really needed to get this off my chest. I’m so grateful to everyone who’s been supporting me, and to anyone who still chooses to stick around even if I can’t promise anything right now. I really hope I’m not letting anyone down by slowing things down or taking other paths, but if I am — I’m truly sorry ):

If you’re interested in my other projects, feel free to check out my linktree — I do art and write and sell stuff, it's fun.

Again, thank you from the bottom of my heart, lovies. xoxo

[dark-lord-of-awesomeness]

It's funny to imagine Maurice in any other au than the shifter one, because that means he'd meet "knows nothing about the supernatural world outside of oregon" Shifty. Especially in innostan au. Gives him a heart attack.

Ohhh. Now I'm tempted to put them into Shifty goes to College at some point.

Mainly for the role of 'wise shifter who isn't evil' position in the Grim Drama going on in the Shifter trio's life. The enigmatic wise guy who always seems to know everything but is never around when you need them type. Even funnier with Maurice, because they don't want to be there. They hate all three of the shifter trio, and they'll hate Shifty too. None of them are subtle, none of them are doing traditional shifter things, all of them want to talk to them. Awful. Don't they know they're old? Ancient, and ready for retirement(big city apartment, big telescope, giant notebook they use to write down what they see and stalk every regular that walks down the street), and all these kids keep bothering them.

But. Hmmmm. Might as well.

So no ones really said commented about it, but in chapter 2 Marcy responds to Shifty's question about if shapeshifters are evil with 'yes'. thats because she is not from a hands-off shifter circle, hers is very hands on, and she'd sneak out a lot to see her mentor for additional shifter schooling (thats why she can partial shift into animals, its something she learned there). There's pros and cons for hands on and off mentoring, and most hands off shifters tend to raise better spy's and mimic human behavior better (except Stan, but how was Maurice supposed to know the base they chose was insane). Hands on tend to do better with infiltration and sneaking around, if raised in a human household with the family unaware of the extra child. Marcy was in the later, and her circle is considered more social, becasue they keep in contact with each other.

Because they are an assassin circle. They specialize in killing, maiming, and hunting down targets to drag back to whoever wants them. Marcy was raised with the belief that she's a monster, was hatched a monster, and is on this planet to use her monstrosity for the whims of the highest bidder. Her circle is very 'assassin guild' esque in that younger shifter's are pitted against each other and need to prove their worth, or they'll get culled and the mentor will try again.

Not a great first impression for the species. Which is also why Marcy freaked when she first met Jon. She's young (only 19/20) and at that point had just graduated boot camp (which was much more grueling for her than Stan) and only ever met assassin/killer shapeshifters. So when she meets Jon, and his atypical shifter upbringing, there's no way she can bring him back to her circle. They'd end him in a heartbeat for his meager weak shifting ability and soft personality.

So there isn't an actual mentor available that would do them any good. In the grim drama that is their life, Maurice would be like, the season three late arrival character who's someone kind of powerful they can sort of rely on to be on their side but doesn't activity help them do anything. Just gives out advice and the viewers can never tell if they're evil or not, until its revealed they're sort of the example of how the horror monster shifters aren't a norm and there are other options for Jon and Marcy. They hate this role, hate being here, and now hate you for inspiring me to torture them with the youth.

And they hate Shifty, who's versatile to the point of ridiculous, knows nothing, has no fear, and is too old mentally to successfully rehabilitate into normal shifter society. They're stuck with his cheerful obliviousness and lack of desire for any kind of underworld lifestyle. Awful child. Awful children. No ones answering their calls to come deal with them so they can leave. Awful spawn and spawn mates. None of them are alt Maurice's spawn Stan who they watched grow up and grew on them like mold (or moss). They haven't and can't be charmed by any of them, only shifter!Stan has that privilage, and half of it is because he's so sad Maurice feels bad for him and the other half is because he's entertaining to watch.

[lvrrinnie]

T.I.E.S headcanons because I read too many fics about them and now I’m hyperfixated.

Just to establish some things before we start this, my headcanons for them are the following: Etho is an arctic fox, Impulse is a demon, Tango as blaze hybrid and Skizz as an angel. I don't know if these are the most popular headcanons for them, but personally I love them in this combo. Now let's get into this. 

It took them months to learn how to be somehow quiet around Etho since he has a very sensitive hearing (Skizz had an especially hard time, with his loud personality). At the beginning, they wonder what made Etho so jumpy every time they were all together in the same room, and why his fox ears were always hidden in his hair. Later, Tango was the one to realise that maybe, just maybe, they were a bit too loud, and that happened when Tango watched Etho absolutely jumping out of his skin by the sound of Skizz’s voice that was on the other side of his base. 

Impulse is the only one that used to be able to carry Tango when they needed to fly from one point to another. His skin being partially immune to the hot temperature that Tango’s body has; the only downside to it was that the skin on Impulse’s hands would be sensitive for a day or two after, which made Tango feel bad, so he locked himself into his workshop and created a contraption that let him fly. (Steampunk elytra for the win here.)

Both Etho and Impulse help Skizz with the preening. Their sharp claws/ nails are perfect for the task, especially in the places where Skizz cannot reach at all. We won’t talk about the time when Tango insisted on helping Skizz with the preening just to end up almost burning a few of his feathers, all because he sneezed.

Skizz made them all matching necklaces and bracelets with his feathers as a way of knowing where his friends are, and offering them protection when he’s not with them. (When damaged, the feather creates a shield around the person for five to ten seconds.)

Before officially joining them, Etho would leave ‘offerings’ in front of their bases. Small rabbits, random shiny things, leather, whatever he deemed important, or he thought the three men would need. One time, after taking a nap under the sun, Tango woke up with a weird-shaped leaf on the tip of his nose. Even to this day, he does not know how a maple leaf managed to find its way into a cherry blossom biome; and Etho still denies that it was him. 

For someone who is supposed to be their main healer, Skizz is extremely clumsy, ending up with more wounds and bruises than the other three combined. Impulse is always nagging him, telling him to be more careful, yet Skizz just laughs it off saying that it's nothing. 

After meeting Skizz, Impulse had a small complex about his wings. He kept them tucked as much as he could, due to the fact that his bony, flesh-covered wings looked, in his opinion, ugly compared to the massive, fluffy white wings Skizz was proudly showing. It took meeting Tango, who was in total awe of them, for Impulse to get over that small complex. And maybe some heart-to-heart conversations with Skizz, but Impulse doesn't want to think about the anger the angel was carrying once he found out about why he was hiding his wings. 

A very silly one, but they once used a sleeping tango to roast marshmallows. That's it. 

Bringing redstone inside the house is strictly prohibited. Not since Tango almost blew the house up by messing up his noodles while being sleep deprived, and also distracted by the way Etho’s tail was just moving at a very rapid rate, almost in indignation, while Skizz was lecturing him about working too much. 

Both Skizz and Impluse use their wings as blankets for the other two, while Tango makes sure to let himself run a bit hotter than normal, just to make sure none of his friends are cold if they are sleeping outside. 

Etho likes to curl up while sleeping/napping, so the other three made a habit of curling around him as well, no matter what.

This makes me wanna write a fantasy T.I.E.S fic so goddamn bad, you guys have no idea. Maybe I would do that after exam season is over, and I will finally have some time to breathe.

[emiplayzmc]

Ohhhh that would be awful if they made up that excuse to keep lying about it DD: Imagine after a certain point in time he gets suspicious because WHY would that take so long to discuss, and they know he's starting to get suspicious so they either have to come clean or make up another lie, both of which are not good options. The fact that they'd have to lie and keep up false hope that he might return back to the other Toons again is absolutely crushing, just to keep him happy and somewhat stable they keep feeding a lie until they can't anymore, because he's not dumb. No matter how desperate he is he'd have to catch on at some point. And that slowly dawning though that maybe there were no discussions going on in the first place, that they're keeping him down here for reasons that he can't understand because he's tried SO HARD to be normal, to be perfect for them, he hasn't hurt anyone and he's been good, why can't they just see that and trust him?? He doesn't understand why and it kills both him and the other Toons that have to be on the receiving end of his desperation and anguish.

If a toon got left behind on a floor, I imagine twisted glisten would do his best to keep them safe. He wasn’t on the floor before when they were there but he came onto the floor later on and found them left behind. So like imagine if the group comes down to get the person, not realizing that glisten has taken it upon himself to keep watch over them. And they just immediately have so much dread because how the fuck are they going to tell glisten that they’re taking the toon… but not him. That despite it being appreciated that he tries his best to keep the left behind toon safe, they can’t really bring him back. Only bringing back the toon who he was protecting.

OOOO absolutely. Like he gets onto a floor and there's just this pile of boxes and racks that have clearly been moved from where they were to over to a corner, and he tries to look behind it to see a Toon hiding there, probably cowering and trying not to make a single sound. Immediate protective instinct, he does his best to find edible food to bring to their hiding spot, shooing away Twisteds that he can from where they are or just keeping them distracted in another area until it gets bored and leaves, but most of the time sitting with them outside that little makeshift safe spot, talking and trying to make it feel less lonely — because if anyone knows how awful that can feel it's him. He's always trying to do his best to keep the Toon from feeling lonely or abandoned, trying to get them to cheer up and probably very adamant about the fact that the others would come back for them, he wouldn't let them die alone like he had, they'd be safe and alive for when they were rescued. (In his mind there's probably at least a TINY bit of self-preservation in there as far as protecting the Toon. Like he wants to keep them alive, he wants them to be safe, but there's just that tiny self-serving bit that's like 'if I can keep this from going wrong in any way, shape, or form, and I show that I have my sanity still, and I never do anything to let them get hurt, they have to let me come back when they're rescued, right? I'd have protected them, I'm trustworthy, they HAVE to bring me with them').

The moment that group comes back, probably panicking because they were searching through so many floors to find that exact one again, Glisten hears the voices and runs over to tell them, leading them over to the Toon. Likely a lot of mixed feelings when they see him because on the one hand, thank GOD he helped to keep them alive and didn't attack the Toon at any point and just in general was a good friend to them when they were accidentally left behind (which that group feels awful about). But then yeah. On the other hand. They can't bring Glisten back. They hadn't discussed that with the other Toons in the lobby at all, they didn't entirely even expect the Toon to still be *alive* by the time they returned to find them, they just operate on that vain hope that they would be alive by the time they got back. How on Earth are they going to be able to ask Glisten to react in a calm and orderly fashion when they basically say 'at the moment, the Toon you helped keep alive holds more importance than you, sorry.' That would likely send him into an instant Panic Mode because he just tried *so hard* to show he was trustworthy, he kept one of them ALIVE, how is it still not obvious to them that he's trustworthy, that he wouldn't hurt them?? They can't just leave him after that!! The Toon can vouch for him, he's safe, they don't need to discuss it with the other Toons if he's safe — he did everything right!! So why is it that he still holds less importance to them even after all that? Why can't he ever seem to do things right so that they don't abandon him again? They just left a Toon behind and came back for them, why can't they do the same for him?

[madqueenalanna]

i've been relistening to "would've, could've, should've" by taylor swift and "29" by demi levato and sadly i can relate to both of them but the worst part is reading the comments and seeing how many girls share that experience "i was 16, he was 28" "i was 17, he was 28" "i was 19, he was 30" and me personally, i was 17/18 and he was 32. it's just horrific how many of us have this in common. almost every girl in the us has the experience of being preyed upon/catcalled/harassed/"dating" a fully adult man when we were under age. and a 17 yr old girl and 20 yr old guy doesn't mean much but so many of us have a SIGNIFICANT age gap and it's just so sad and awful. i hate it. if my daughter ever experienced this, scorched earth. just so sad

[14dayswithyou]

💖 Day 3.5 is now available! 💖

For the last couple of months, only Server Boosters had access to the 3.5 update... Buuuuut now it's available for everyone to play in the 14DWY Discord — and soon itch.io once I'm happy with the QA and state of the game — so please don't feel pressured to join unless you want to!!

The full devlog + even more screenshots are under the cut ^^

What's been added to the 3.5 version?

📺 Streamer Mode!

I've been told that it's difficult to stream and monetise age-restricted videos on YouTube and Twitch, so I added an option to remove the sexual content and strong language used in the demo.

Now y'all can invite Ren into your bed for cuddles without putting your streamer career on the line /silly /lh

This won't affect the 18+ rating or dark themes/elements of the game, however! Although Streamer Mode will prevent you from seeing any "gruesome" CGs in the future, most of the core elements of the game will still be tied to the choices and decisions you make. So you won't miss out on the overall experience by using streamer mode!!

⚙️ Custom Pronouns!

It only took me one entire year to get around to it, but you can finally choose your own preferred pronouns (or use a set of pronouns instead)... At the cost of being able to change them mid-game ^^;

Since the original pronoun screen wouldn't update until a new scene was displayed, I temporarily disabled the feature. But once I find a workaround, I'll bring it back!

💗 Choose how others perceive you!

You can now choose how the cast and narration perceive you! Originally, the narration was kept strictly gender-neutral (outside of pronouns and genitalia picked by the player), but this will soon change in future updates.

For more clarity: you don't get to choose the words specifically, but you can choose between masculine, feminine, and androgynous terms!

📋 Separate top and bottom genitalia!

You can now choose your tatas and pps separately! >:3

Alongside that, you can also choose your preferred body type!

I removed the "both" genitalia option because a few players still assumed it was an obscure version of "intersex". That wasn't my intention and I don't want to mislead anyone, so I took it out for now ^^;

I also didn't want to include a screenshot of the new genitalia choices in action (because it's NSFW), so y'all get the same character menu screen for the nth time instead lmao

📱 Relationship Screen Overhaul!

You can now change your own status for more immersion, and long-term Server Boosters will eventually be able to submit and use their own icon within the game as well!

Stalking finding your friends has now become easier by using "Buddy Maps"; a new app that allows you to see the location of all the cast members!

I want to offer players more incentive to check the relationship screen since they tend to miss the status updates, so hopefully this might help ;v;

It also says it "updates every few hours" so folks don't go overboard and check every 5 seconds to see where Ren is gdsghf (also keep in mind that he's a hacker lol)

🖤 Additional Scenes Update!

Day 2 received a brand new CG!!!!! Originally, I planned on only adding a few CGs sporadically throughout the game, but it didn't feel right to leave Day 2 so... empty... so I added a brand new CG to (hopefully) make things feel more balanced and natural!

If you decline Teo's offer on Day 3, Leon will now call and try to convince you to reconsider. However, players are still allowed to decline, and if they do, they'll reach a dead end.

After listening to feedback on itch, I changed some of the dialogue during Days 1-3 to make it seem more consistent! They're only small changes though, so it's honestly not worth looking for sdgjssga

🎶 Updated BGM and SFX!

I wanted to try out a different style of music to see if it fits the vibe of 14DWY more! The BGM features more acoustics to suit the "beachy" theme of Corland Bay, though I made a conscious effort to include piano elements as well to stay true to the original!!

I figured it'd be better to give players a live example before I make a poll (to see if they prefer the change or not) and publish it to Itch.

Some new SFX have also been added, though it's very minimal and honestly not that noticeable.

How to download and play the update?

(warning: clicking on the following links will open Discord!!) To download the Day 3.5 update, simply join the 14DWY Discord server, verify your age, and visit the "14dwy-updates" channel!

Alternatively, you can also wait until the update is publicly released on Itch to play it as well!! (It normally gets released shortly after a round of QA testing/getting feedback from the server, though I may release it earlier if I feel like it hehe ^^)

Enjoy!!

[lucabyte]

my order of the art book has been delayed because the system thought my house address was incomplete........ every american storefront hates me so bad for living a house with a name instead of a number..................

[momentomori24]

[This has been sitting in my draft for a while lol]

When it comes to Curly's failings, I always see people bring up his obvious failure to protect Anya and him prioritising Jimmy, who was the rapist in that situation. Which is completely valid btw and we should rake him through the coals for that alone even more. But I also see too many people saying that Curly "didn't enable Jimmy" or playing softball for his actions. And I could maybe see where that comes from if that incident was the only thing we had to point to-- but that wasn't all he did, is it? Curly being indifferent or not taking Jimmy's mistreatment and belittlement of Anya seriously was hinted at so much earlier than that.

Namely, the very first time we play from Curly's point of view. Let's just skip the fact that Curly was putting everyone in danger by not taking his psych evals seriously and simply giving the same answers to pass them even tho he was shown literal minutes after this scene being clearly not-sane, and go straight to the point I actually wanna get into. Which is this:

These scenes in isolation wouldn't be that bad. From his pov, it's played off as comical and it is. Jimmy being a brony (not really lmao) and getting playfully dragged over it is funny. But unfortunately this is the first example out of many for Curly's complacency. Anya is complaining about Jimmy not taking his psych evals or her seriously, which is easy to believe considering how much he rags on her for "not being a good nurse" (she kept Curly alive on hopes and dreams how dare you). So he keeps making her do silly and inappropriate reports she clearly doesn't wanna do, which is kinda shitty (also borders on harassment). But rather than actually saying something about Jimmy's behaviour or even acknowledging how it sucks he says this:

Mate, that's not a good thing 💀 He's clearly aware that the problem is Jimmy's lack of respect for Anya specifically. He knows that if he, his friend and a man in power, were the one doing the evals Jimmy wouldn't try that disrespect. But it's Anya, a meek woman who ranks lower than him so he thinks he can get away with it (which he DOES), and Curly's shown as comfortable in knowing that. He doesn't chew Jimmy out for making Anya uncomfortable nor does he reassure her that he will do something about it. All he does is take it off her hands this once and helps Jimmy power through it to get a good diagnosis (even tho we know he's DEFINITELY not sane either). He doesn't even mention Anya's discomfort or confront him on his inappropriate behaviour, just teases Jimmy in good fun instead because he doesn't think of it as anything serious. It's subtle and pretty minor in comparison to everything else, but I think it's worth pointing out. Especially because this convo takes place after Jimmy had assaulted her, which makes this so much worse.

If you need any more evidence of Curly being an enabler you need not look further than Anya herself. And I'm not just talking about the way he failed her here-- I'm talking about Anya's own view of Curly and the way said view influences her actions.

Just look at her choice of wording. "What would you have done". This is in response to him saying that she could've come to him if she were feeling stressed, which she-- in his eyes-- didn't. The question itself implies that she had no faith in Curly to actually help despite his insistence that he would've, which I think is significant because it shows that she's very much aware of Curly's shortcomings when it comes to her situation AND it's one of the first (or the first time) she actually verbalised her lack of trust towards him or anyone directly. Prior to this scene she had told him about her rape and the rapist, presumably because she trusted him to handle it. And he dismissed her because the rapist was his best friend, and that evidently deeply scarred her. Enough so that she secretly took the gun and hid it someplace else and didn't even tell Curly were that was, because she knows that if Curly has access to it there's a so much greater chance Jimmy will have too, insinuated by the line "the least I can do is make sure he never gets it either". Speaking about the gun:

It sucks so bad that this perception of him isn't even inaccurate nor unjustified. That despite everything Jimmy had done to her and everything he could still do to her, he'd very likely still not allow her access to the gun for protection. Because that's exactly what he didn't do anyway. He didn't attempt to keep her safe from Jimmy, instead he just pretended that nothing was wrong and still let Jimmy's belittlement of her pass. He didn't give her the gun after the incident, because she wouldn't have hid the case if he had. Despite his desperate reassurance that he'd do anything, he did nothing but make it worse for her and she KNOWS that. It's so frustrating knowing he entrusted the axe to Swansea when he needed it but not the gun to Anya when she needed it too. Also this:

The fact that his knee-jerk reaction to her admitting that she's pregnant was "Who would you--" is so fucked, especially considering she's already told him what happened. "Who would you" what? Who would you fuck? Who would you have sex with? That choice of wording drives me up a wall-- SHE wouldn't and didn't do anything or anyone. That was JIMMY. The potential sentence implies that she had any choice or agency in her pregnancy. She didn't. And the fact that Curly had to ask "who" insinuates that he's been putting Jimmy's action out of sight and out of mind the whole time, choosing to not think about them or what happened to Anya at all. And considering he still made her do Jimmy's evaluations despite being able to do them himself and literally didn't even think of making sure she gets psych evals done too--especially AFTER getting sexually assaulted--that might actually be the case (I haven't seen anyone make a stink about that piece of info so I'm going to because what kinda colossal fuck up IS that??).

I vaguely had a post like this in mind but seeing so many people be like "well Anya did some wrong stuff too like leaving Curly alone with Jimmy but you don't get mad at HER for that so why is Curly not doing anything about Jimmy being alone with Anya so different??" actually makes me want to blow some people up. Jimmy's an abuser, sure, but Anya has no real reason to believe that he'd actually harm Curly. From her perspective, they were close, close enough that Curly would not only let Jimmy continuously disrespect her but also get away with assaulting her too. That, and she knows that Jimmy was closer to Curly than anyone and more likely to be civil around him than he ever was to her. She has barely any reasons to suspect Jimmy would harm Curly when they're alone. Curly, on the other hand, has every fucking reason on the planet to think Jimmy would harm her when they're alone. He knows he raped her (likely in her room at night too). He knows that he sexually harasses her. He knows that he doesn't respect her at all. And that was BEFORE the crash. Anya tried insisting on giving Curly his medicine, only for Jimmy to keep aggressively insisting that he'll take care of it despite her protests. Curly didn't try to keep them separate at all even though he was the Captain and had the power to do so. And this should go without saying, but leaving your rapist alone with his best friend that he was close to and enabled/protected him and leaving your friend alone with the woman he raped (and might have repeatedly assaulted given his free access to her) is NOT THE SAME and I'm going to start chucking some people down a waterfall because what the fuck is that argument 💀 Actually leave it to the fandom of the game where the rape of a woman is the catalyst for the events that unfold to use her trauma to defend the guy that enabled it in the first place. Bloody hell.

The reason why this whole Curly discourse pisses me off is because it-- from what I can see-- ONLY brings up his failures 1-0 days before the crash and the Dead Pixel scene (or all the discussion around other points are drowned out by those two). Those scenes, while important to talk about, are not the only things he's done, and focussing on those as the only things is a mistake that comes short of understanding the issue. When it comes to Curly the main defences I see for him are "he was trying not to escalate the situation" and "he was trying to keep things under control the best he can" and "he was waiting for the right time to help Anya", but those don't work when you look at the bigger picture of everything he's done.

He half-assed through his psych eval despite clearly not being sane (and KNOWING he's barely sane, he literally admits it to Jimmy's face). He still continued to task her with Jimmy's psych evals. He brushed over Jimmy's sexual harassment of her as a joke. He didn't think about making sure she got psych evals done herself after being raped. He gave Swansea the axe but didn't give Anya the gun despite it being for "unrest amongst the crew" (whatever the hell THAT means). He let her assault slip his mind that she had to remind him. He's literally a blond man. He took no action to hold Jimmy responsible for anything, and prioritised how his violation of Anya would affect him rather than her. He ignored her demands for him to get rid of Jimmy. He still allowed Jimmy free reign of the ship as co-pilot even after he was openly fantasising about killing everyone and had a major motive and the means to do just that. He was potentially thinking of making her miscarry to cover up what happened. He was so accustomed to her sucking up being disrespected and disturbed that he didn't even notice a difference in her behaviour until she hid the fucking gun. There's so much other shit he's done and hasn't done, and not talking about them or glossing over them makes it so easy for people to argue that he isn't actually an enabler or just minimise the severity of his neglect.

And while I'm already dragging Curly through the mud, I might as well just drag Swansea too. I've seen too many people being like "Anya should've told Swansea instead" and "Swansea was the one that actually took responsibility". Like, y'all realise he's not that much better than Curly, right? He already knew about what happened to Anya-- he admits it to Jimmy's face-- but he didn't do shit. He knew, but he still got completely shitfaced for months despite her earlier protestation to that (for very understandable reasons). He knew, but he still let Jimmy have the axe AND be alone with Anya while having it. He knew, but when Anya locked herself in the Medical and Daisuke and Jimmy asked for his help he didn't budge nor really showed any care. He knew, but the reason he finally decided to do something about Jimmy wasn't Anya, it was Daisuke. Her suffering and her eventual death weren't enough for him to take action either.

This game, on top of everything else, is a great depiction of rape culture. It doesn't just include the rapists, but the people (mostly men) that stay silent, do nothing, make excuses for and protect the perpetrator for whatever reason, and Swansea and Curly (Curly way more so than Swansea) are both active contributors to the environment that allowed for evil to flourish and continue unhindered until it destroyed them all. And while that arguably doesn't make them evil themselves or as bad as Jimmy, they are so much more a part of the bigger problem than the fandom likes to admit.

[Ok since this is kinda gaining a bit of traction please consider helping these guys out here, here and here. Thanks!]

[spotaus]

New Age AU (Obtaining Killer)

Hey guys! Through with a bot of stuff for the day and I have a sneaking suspicion that this stress headache will not leave me until I finish some projects for work, so I *may* be m.i.a. for a hot second until they stop.

In the meantime, I want to drop this! (Unedited, unrefined, raw off the slab style)

Andddd @ancha-aus and @papiliovolens ! Hello! (Mutzelputz if u see this, the tags weren't working for some reason, I apologize.)

Hope y'all enjoy!

Ccino had convinced him to leave the castle. After nearly a year had passed since his last true public appearance. Since he'd stolen the apple from his brother. Nine months had passed since he'd sent Dream away. He tried not to think about it.

Nightmare had been finding out a lot about his magic. How it made him jittery, and how he felt like he understood so much more. How it made him deeply paranoid, quick to react.

How it made people listen to him.

He figured it was because he was scary now. The negative magic condensed over every inch of his bone wasn't exactly appealing, and the extra limbs which had sprouted from his spine now acted like his own personal weapons. If someone didn't listen, didn't give him an answer he liked, the limbs moved without him even thinking.

It had taken time to learn to better control them. Even now, they writhed in his wake. His nerves expressed through their lashing and twitching as they hovered just above the ground.

The streets weren't exactly crowded.

Upon word of the King's arrival to this small providence, Nightmare had found that many people fled from his path. His travel party of several soldiers, and himself on horseback. He'd always wanted to ride horses. The traitor twin was someone that every citizen wished to avoid.

Ccino had coaxed him outside with promises of fresh air. Apparently there were promising young members of the city guard that Ccino swore would be wonderful future knights. Young warriors for him to bring up loyally under his name, no fear of betrayal.

It had made sense, at the time, but Nightmare hadn't chosen to recruit any of them.

It wasn't to say he didn't want to. Several of the humans and monsters were very talented, and he did his best to give them praise, but he could tell. None of them wanted to work under him. They didn't like him. Rejection and hatred that had pierced him immediately, he could practically taste it.

Ultimately, they would do better here in their hometown. A place they were passionate about protecting, and with people they cared for. Night would not try to mold promising soldiers into his perfect guard. No matter how smart of an idea it may have been.

And so he'd moved on.

Night had visited several smaller shops, onces which couldn't afford to refuse him, and he bought some fabrics, a trinket, some small thing from each place he stopped by. He payed exactly the price he needed for each thing. He wouldn't bribe his people, either. The best he could do would be to remain neutral.

He did discover, against all odds, that he was enjoying this day out. Ccino was, in fact, usually correct about this sort of thing.

The travel had been enriching. Almost exciting. He'd never gotten out of the castle much at all, this was all new and excitingly mundane.

Good things do not last forever.

It was almost sunset when he noticed it. Torches being set up, a platform prepared. A crowd gathering.

An execution, came the mutter from one of his soldiers. Though he recognized the set-up, Night had never been in attendance to an execution. He was morbidly curious. The crowd held such a contempt. A broiling hunger for blood.

He wished he'd wheeled his horse away when a few people were ushered out of a nearby building.

The prison, maybe?

There weren't many of them. Nightmare dismounted his steed, and much to the dismay of the soldiers at his side, he found himself sinking. Into the growing shadows cast by the dying sun.

He re-emerged beside the stage, where the few people were lined up. Ready for death by hanging.

That trick wasn't one that Nightmare quite understood yet, but he was always drawn to feelings of intense negativity. He knew that, now. Something about these prisoners were bothering him, even at a distance, and he found himself more curious as he stood before them.

His guards, at the back of the crowd, hadn't seemed to figure out where he had gone. He had the time, now, to loom over the small group of prisoners.

The city guards, the trained ones, had likely seen him earlier at their headquarters. They did not speak even a word against him as he stared.

Nightmare stared at these faces.

A dog monster, scrappy and scarred, black fur clashing against a few patches of white. One of her ears was missing.

A pair of humans, both men, one with long, curly red hair and another with short-cropped red hair and the beginnings of a beard. Maybe they were brothers?

A skeleton. His sockets dripped with black magic, and his soul was a piercing crimson, just infront of his chest.

A flame monster, small and stout. Their flames a flickering green and purple. One of their eyes had a patch over it.

Nightmare was not great at determining emotions yet. He was hardly versed in his own feelings, but there had been improvement recently. Understanding new emotions had been coming more naturally to him.

Sometimes it hurt, but he was learning.

Now, past the blossoms of a headache, he felt a bit baffled as he subconsciously picked through the negativity these monsters exuded. Their fear. Their pain. Their loss, and their anger.

Oh.

"Only one of you is guilty."

He'd said it without thinking, practically announcing it with a voice that still felt unnaturally deep. A voice which rattled his ribcage and seemed to force past the barrier of darkness around him.

The group before him seemed startled. Confused.

Well, all but the skeleton, who seemed to only raise his skull slightly. As though just noticing Nightmare was there.

"How could you have possibly been jailed in the first place?" He muttered a bit quieter to himself.

He knew, deep down, that there were many, many rules in place for situations like this. Laws which he could challenge. People he could speak to. He could appoint members of his court to each of these people and try to earn their innocence through the rites of the law.

Then again, he remembered the rage of the crowd. The frustration of the people waiting to see these killings take place.

He didn't know what to do.

Now the prisoners, especially the two humans, were staring at him hopefully. He'd managed to shatter the negativity a bit. He believed them. He knew this was wrong.

"I don't know..."

The mutter came again unprompted.

These people would not have the means to repay him for his help. He couldn't just waive fees, or risk his court turning against him. He couldn't afford enemies being made so close to his inner circle.

He couldn't just leave them, though. Not after he'd seen the injustice of it all.

Stuck in his own thoughts, he was drawn out of it by a snickering laugh.

"Just set them free." A voice followed, "You are our King, aren't you?"

Nightmare then found his eyes drawn to the skeleton.

The others had eased themselves away from him. He stood, now, almost alone. He seemed unbothered by speaking up, his sockets held in an almost lazy posture. Tension going completely un-held.

He grinned up as the King, and seemed to watch contentedly as the thought settled in Nightmare's skull.

He could do that. Simply waive their charges. Pardon them. He could do that, surely. Many royals had done it before him for less certain terms. His mother had plenty of times.

"And you are guilty. You'll still be hanged. You know this, don't you?" Nightmare asked.

That was when the Skeleton's lazy sockets seemed to tighten with a sort of glee. Some hidden joke Nightmare wasn't privy to.

"Hmm." This was a poor choice. This was a bad decision. "Tell me, quickly, how you came to be here. Before I proceed?"

Nightmare didn't know why he was asking. He was... curious. Just like he had always been.

Very few people would ever speak straight to his face. Ccino, that was the only one who'd done it since his change. Since the prophecy. This skeleton had done it. He'd spoken when no one else could muster even a plea.

The silence he seemed to bring to every room. Broken, just briefly.

The skeleton stared at him a moment.

"Name's Killer, your majesty." The tone was mocking. "A while back a buddy of mine got into hot water, and I decided to help them out. Now, plenty of bodies later, I'm the one stuck on death row."

Simple. An admission of guilt.

Nightmare stared at him some more.

Finally, it seemed his frantic guards had noticed him. Found him. They rushed to his side, though not as fast as he would've liked. He could feel the frustration seeping from each armored body around him.

"You don't have an aversion to it," Nightmare voiced, "Killing, I mean."

Killer nodded. Unashamed.

It felt strangely calm, still. Perhaps it was because the crowd was still chattering. They likely hadn't noticed Nightmare at all.

The king turned to the city guard, still stood on the steps. "Free these four people. My judgement decrees them as not-guilty."

And, before any time could pass in the slightest. "Killer, I would like you to accompany me, before you abscond."

He'd noticed it. Killer had undone his cuffs before their conversation. Completely freeing himself from his weak imprisonment.

Killer seemed amused at the concept of sticking around to chat.

"If you would, I would like to recruit your services at my castle. I need a man who is willing to kill. And kill swiftly." Ccino said to establish an image. It was obvious now that his reputation would remain in the gutter, no matter what choices he made. He was not Dream.

Killer's sockets narrowed.

"And what would I get for being your little hunting dog?" Again, it was bold. It was new.

Nightmare was sure his expression hadn't changed since he'd come before the group. That same angry glare that sat permanently along his skull. The magic had an image to project.

His tendrils flicked, slightly.

"Payment, room, Fresh meals, and any other amenities you may like, so long as it does not break our treasury." He replied, "All I ask is that you simply obey me. And Me alone."

Not true. He'd probably ask for him to listen to Ccino as well. Once he knew for certain he'd stay.

Killer seemed to be thinking. He eyed they king, up and down. He looked to each of the guard around the king. The ones who were back in position now, though Nightmare could feel their annoyance. Their confusion.

Then Killer turned.

Then he turned back.

"Mm. Can't be worse than the ol' noose." Killer replied. "Funny way to run a country, my king. Hiring the first murderer you spot?"

Nightmare didn't humor that with a response. He was honestly shocked the skeleton had even agreed.

Though, all of that negativity had been swapped out for a glee. Something deep in Killer had changed during their brief interaction. A hope. Night could barely grasp the edges of its existence with his subconscious. But it was there.

.

He ignored the crowds as they grew confused. He ignored the worry pouring from the criminals as he had them released and informed them of their pardon.

He did not ignore when his guards told someone to keep their distance. He glanced up. Killer was standing beyond the guards, looking bored.

Nightmare, trusting fool he was, didn't even ask a guard to watch him to ensure he stayed put.

"Stand down." He ordered the guard, who begrudgingly allowed the skeleton to smugly slip past.

His tendrils kept the monster at a distance Night preferred all on their own. He seemed to take the hint.

"They're all gonna be dead by morning, you know." Killer voiced easily.

Nightmare turned to him, confused. What did he mean by that? He'd pardoned them?

"Are you deaf? The crowd wanted us dead, especially me." He chuckled, "Leaving them here is definitely going to get them killed. If the crowd doesn't rip them apart the second you leave, then it'll happen at night. There will be no witnesses."

Oh... Night hadn't fathomed that these people could turn on the innocent once declared. It hadn't even crossed his mind. Did they have a home to return to? A family they put at risk?

The noose was a fast death, but being murdered? That would've been so much worse.

He could tell, by the way they evaded looking at Killer, that he was right. Nightmare would be sentencing them to a new sort of death if he did it like this.

But he didn't have time for a trial. Or several. The sun was going down, abd Ccino expected him back. The castle needed him present, or they might revolt.

Someone might hurt Ccino.

Oh, he was such a poor ruler. He did not know his people well enough. How he lamented the lessons Dream had taken about crowds and current issues abd how to be likeable.

Night didn't know how to handle this. He was still learning!

A trembled in his hand. He tucked the limb quickly away from where it had been lightly clutching his tunics thick fabric, now hiding it beneath his cloak.

"Killer is right. It won't be safe here, for any of you." He spoke. Thank the gods it didn't sound as shaken as he felt. "I extend an offer to you all. You may stay here, or you may come take up positions among my staff back at the castle. Unlike Killer, I do not expect any crime from you, but you will be paid and housed."

The offer was met with a roar of frustration from the crowd, Nightmare chose to allow his guards to handle it. He watched, carefully, as the four looked between eachother.

The brothers agreed first. (They introduced themselves as brothers as they knelt in thanks.) Then the Dog. She said she had no family left to watch over, starting a new life would be for the best.

The flame refused, saying they would leave town by morning, and try to stay safe.

And so, Nightmare left the town with four new party members. Each had been provided a horse, each tied to one of the guards. Aside from Killer, whose steed was held personally by Nightmare.

He figured Ccino would chew him out for this, for bringing criminals into the castle when he was sent to collect soldiers, but Nightmare had a good feeling about these ones.

They did not hate him. Or fear him. He was helping them. And it felt good.

[remnantofstars]

Wow they're so silly!!! None of them said cheese for the picture :/