#been digging of not having to render lately

[tlirswriting]

[They Colonized Mars, entry 4 // start here]

Venus:

Second planet from the sun, rendered uninhabitable 

Roman goddess of love, beauty, and sex 

> Atlas walks down the steps into Cythera’s, crossing the energy disruption field's threshold — a series of simple devices set up around the perimeter of the club to cancel out the city's artificial gravity — and he feels lighter, nearly weightless, the pressure lifting from his bones. 

> The air is warm and sweet in the hazy basement room, thick with candy-flavored nicotine and THC vapor. A tall, four-armed Venusian dances on a small stage against the far wall for a sparse crowd, glowing pink and glittering in the spotlight as she mouths along to the old 2260s pop hit Acid Rain. 

> The music thumps through Atlas, the beat reverberating up from the floor and settling into his chest, pulsing in his lungs. He unzips his jacket and makes his way to the bar at one side of the room to order two of his usual drinks; something strong and fruity with tiny paper umbrellas in it. 

> “This is what people do,” He says to SaM-B, talking over the bass as he sets one glass on top of it. 

> “I cannot drink; I have no mouth.”

> “That's okay, you just have to stand there, maybe you're… moody, and mysterious, or something. Or maybe you're shy, ‘cause it's your first time coming here.” 

> “And this is normal? I am doing it correctly?” 

> “Sure, yeah.” 

> Atlas leans his elbow on the bar and sips his drink, watching the spots of light spinning across the walls, watching the people — mostly Human — bobbing along in ripples or sitting at tables. Two bored-looking lesbians chat quietly in the same corner Atlas always sees them, but he never caught their names; nor the man in a leather harness with scars across his chest, or the girl with green hair that might have been natural. 

> “This place is usually packed tighter when I come here,” He explains. “Saturday night, people are rubbing against each other, snorting zidge in the bathroom…” 

> “This is fun?” SaM-B asks him.

> “Well, I like it.” 

> He downs the rest of his drink and makes his way to stand by the stage where a handful of people are crowded, staring up at the Venusian; she's ethereally androgynous, shimmering like a mirage, larger than life in her heels and moving like gravity forgot her. She calls herself Majel Stardust. 

> Alcohol works its fingers through Atlas, relaxing his shoulders, easing the knots in his back. He breathes — digs through his wallet for a 1.0 note — reaches out to her, hands touching briefly when she takes it, leaning close enough to smell her perfume and she tucks it into her bra. She's electric, dripping glitter, commanding attention; she's mile-long legs and hands you can't keep track of, she's power and grace, you'd almost believe the blasting music was her own voice. 

> It's all an illusion, but Atlas loves the show, dazzling lights mirrored in rows of bioluminescent spots along his cheekbones and down his arms, only visible when his defenses and inhibitions are lowered. 

> SaM-B holds perfectly still beside him, watching intently, its lights blinking in time with the rhythm. 

> She finishes her set, and disappears behind the curtain as the people cheer. A moment later, she's behind him, a hand lightly brushing his shoulder to spin him around. 

> “Atlas, baby!” Her voice is deep and rich like honey. “It's a Tuesday, what are you doing here?” 

> “Supporting artists,” He jokes as she leads him away towards a table near the back. “What are you doing, stealing me from the other queens?” 

> She laughs. “The next one's Mz. Tuna Piano, that bitch is always late.”

> He hums. “Yeah, she is.” 

> “But honestly, really,” She puts a right hand around his shoulders, and another right hand on his waist. “Talk to me. What are you doing here? You look like the train caught you.” 

> He sighs. “I, uh… I had a weird day at work, I couldn't go straight home. Needed to clear my head.” 

> She gestures to SaM-B after they sit down. “Who's your friend?” 

> “My weird day at work.” He grabs the drink balancing on top of it and takes a sip. “That, and somebody died again.” 

> “You gotta get out of there, honey; they'll eat you alive.” 

> “I will, soon, it's just…” He shakes his head. “And go where, y'know?” 

> “Here, maybe.” She sucks on a thin metal tube and blows a ring of pomegranate-scented clouds. “Anywhere. Doesn't matter much, does it?” 

> Atlas chuckles. “I'm not built for entertaining.” 

> “Some people like Martians, with your big brown eyes. You could grow your hair out…” 

> “No, really, I can't.” 

> She studies him for a moment, something knowing in her compound eyes. 

> “I'm gonna get out,” He repeats. “I have plans, I just need a little more time.” 

> She hums. “You want a hit?” She offers. “I hear sometimes humans get a kick out of CO2, makes ‘em dizzy — wonder what it'll do to you.” 

> “No, thanks; I'd feel kinda bad taking your air.” 

> “Suit yourself.” 

> He watches her curl her mandibles around her electric cigar, draw in a deep breath, and beckon him closer — he obeys, leaning in, and she tilts his chin up to press her mouth to his and blow; he breathes in concentrated oxygen, carbon filtered by her lungs, fresh and crisp, artificially sweet. He pulls away and giggles.

> “There,” She says. “You don't have to be guilty about it.” 

> SaM-B emits a high-pitched whine. 

> “Poor thing,” Majel chuckles. “Is it sentient?” 

> Atlas begins answering, “I'm pretty sure, yeah—” 

> “I wish I was you,” It beeps. 

> “I get that a lot, honey.” 

> He sips his drink and thinks about what it meant by that. 

> The night rolls on, soft around the edges, pleasantly dark and spinning like galaxies. 

>>

> Walking home, still buzzing, Atlas leans on SaM-B as they go — his body feels leaden and too-loose, metal pins digging into his flesh to keep his legs on straight — and he slurs: “D'you understand why I took you here?” 

> It beeps, “I think so.” 

> “My point…” The words swim in his head and roll clumsily off his tongue. “With all of this, is that there's more to being alive than your programming.” 

> They can see Mars’ two moons meeting in the middle of the sky through the top of the dome, dancing among silver ribbons of noctilucent clouds. 

> “I want a name,” It says.

> “Yeah?” 

> “I think Selene would be nice.” 

> “Yeah, alright.” 

> A beat. “Can I be a girl?” 

> “Sure, why not?” 

> “Thank you, Atlas.” 

> “You don't need my permission.” 

> It’s true, but she needs to hear it.

> They wobble along the street under holographic advertisements shimmering in the artificial sky. 

> Atlas vaguely remembers getting on the train — rising up over the streets, city lights glowing trails around him — dozing off, and waking up when the brakes squeal at his stop. 

> Staggering out into the cold air again, he's hit by the wind, particles of sand scratching his face and sticking to the corners of his eyes. The storm is habitable inside the dome (outside, the winds are harsher, kicking up dust clouds miles high) but unpleasant enough that he quickens his pace the rest of the way home. 

[jadequarze]

Just a smidge of happiness for them please and thank you

[hxltic]

i absolutely need suna x reader having secret sex while the miya twins are a room across🫣

OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD

You had no real attraction to Suna, but it was just one of those nights where your brothers came home after a game, bringing his friends along with him to celebrate, and to avoid sitting in their sweat, they had to shower. Thank god you took yours before the boys made it. Being the last to shower when the floor is wet and it’s steamy already is literally the worst shit ever.

The problem was, Suna never really came over; therefore, he had no real way to know which room was your brothers’.

He had specific instructions to shower and take some clothes from his room. Looking back on it, he should’ve asked which door it is, but strutting back with nothing but a towel on his waist is not an option. So, he resorts to opening every door until he finds what he would think is the room of his teammate. Or rather…either of them?

Instead, the knob twists as you’re fully bent over in your walk-in closet, digging through a basket of clean clothes for a t-shirt. Of course it had to be the second you wanted to change when he walked in, and not when you were comfortably reading in bed with a little light on earlier. There’s no bra on your chest now, just a pair of navy blue lace panties.

Hey! On the bright side: they could’ve been cotton with “kiss my ass” stamped on the back.

Your arms draw up in an effort to hide your chest when you hear the twist of the knob and the door come flying open. Key word is effort, because now your breasts are pressed up against each other, which Suna believes is ten times worse for you than the position he found you in. At least when you were bent over, he had to imagine whatever he couldn’t see.

“Holy- shit!” you exclaim, eyeing the man at your door that’s actively dripping water on your carpet. His hair is fallen and sticking to his face messily, just enough for you to spot his slim eyes. He doesn’t say anything at first.

It’s mainly just him blinking blankly at you while you panic, searching the room for literally anything to provide some decency, but once you render the clear lack of any emotion (like embarrassment) you currently possessed in his body, it calms your nerves a bit.

He’s seen a woman before. It doesn’t make him any less prone to being attracted to puffy lips and nipples only covered by an arm, but it somehow soothes you to know he won’t make a big deal out of it and maybe not even mention it to your siblings.

Eventually, you throw on the nearest shirt over your head and pull your hair through, dirty or clean, still with no pants to match.

You sigh deeply, “What is it Suna?” It comes out in an irritated grunt.

“You know my name.” His eyebrows raise with surprise, but not as high as the average person’s would.

“Yeah, I do. Is there a reason you’re still here?”

He presses on: “How do you know it? Do they talk about me a lot?”

Your head drops in your palm to shake back and forth. “I can’t do this right now,” he overhears your mumble.

“My bad, I was looking for Tsumu’s room but got jumpscared instead.”

Despite saying this, he still stands in the doorway—not with it cracked, but with it wide fucking open—and it’s then when creaks from the stairs clears the air between you two. He doesn’t move, but you quickly shove him over to peek around the corner, then drag him into your bedroom before whoever it is gets the wrong idea by the view from the hallway.

While you’re turned after throwing him mindlessly into your room, he readjusts the falling towel around his waist. What he said finally hits you a few moments too late.

“Jumpscared?! You? I’m in the comfort of my own room when you barge in with nothing on!” Your hands gesture up and down as you scold him. “And don’t talk about my body like that!” Only he doesn’t really look at your eyes. When you’re done, he finds your attention.

“It was really an accident, but I’ll stay until whoever goes back downstairs,” he shrugs. “And why does it smell like sex in here?”

Your cheeks redden. There was a reason you were looking for a change of clothes. “It doesn’t.”

“Yeah, it does.” He flops back onto the bed carelessly, dipping your comforter.

“Stop! You’re getting my sheets wet.” His body has only slightly dried, but with the full head of hair he has, it hasn’t dried at all. “Suna, get up.”

“They probably already are.”

He closes his eyes and crosses his arms over his chest. His stature was not what you thought it’d be. He was tall and packed with muscle in his legs. You could tell that much by the pictures if you didn’t figure it out by the fact that when he’s sitting you’re still face to face; but on top of that, his abdomen was carved and his arms carried some weight too.

Nothing compared to the sheer size of his legs, but still up there. They had to be the size of your head. By photos he’s an average high school athlete, so it almost appears fake when he takes the uniform off.

Unfortunately, as you were looking, his eyes had opened and he’d been watching you inspect him. Suna will always preach there are benefits to being as quiet as he is, like how he can pinpoint that your fingers come to pinch the edge of your shirt.

You clear your throat in hopes it will gather your thoughts too, then rectify his past statement. “They aren’t.”

“Right… just like how all the red tabs in this book are for nothing?” He reaches beside him to take it in his hands, then he flips through the pages quickly until he comes across one. “‘I run my fingers down her trembling thighs that yearn for my touch. You’ll take it like a—’”

Before he can finish what you remember is very unfortunately highlighted, you crawl over him to rip it out his hands and throw it. You chuck the literature nowhere in particular with shame that can’t get any higher as he laughs, then you quickly retreat with a knee up on the edge of the bed. His laughter is a sweet sound. It makes sense why he’s friends with your brothers.

You don’t even notice you’re half-straddling him while you point your finger in his face. “What I read is none of your business.”

He spoke clearly and assertively when he read, and the last thing you need him figuring out was how bad your body desired he’d read the words to you again; he was already too observant.

“Of course. Forgive me for saying such vulgar things around my friend’s sister. She would never do such a thing.” Finally, he slowly sits up, which naturally makes you rise with him, so you place your hand on his shoulder to prevent from wobbling. Your thigh is beside his with your foot unstable on the floor. “She’s just so sweet and innocent, and definitely not up here alone reading book porn.”

Your breathing picks up at the proximity and the pressure of a declaration you can’t avoid. You search between both his eyes that do the same to you. He deserves a medal or something, because fuck—the shirt lifts just a little bit every time you fiddle with it and the lace sticks to your skin like glue. “I- uhm,” you stutter, removing your stability from his body and backing away from the bed.

Of course, to add to the fucking humiliation, you stumble backward, but he reaches out to you. His hand firmly wraps around your wrist and the other is hooked behind your back when he jerks you back up to him. He only releases your wrist.

“Is that all you read?”

You shake your head. “I read regular romance and fantasy too.”

He nods, “Ah, I see. So you want the prince of a faraway land to twirl you around in his field of flowers saying how much he loves you, then you want him to make you beg to come?”

Your eyes shoot wide at the comment, only stretching the lazy smirk on his face.

“N-No,” you reply, even though that does sound extremely appealing.

“But you do want someone to ‘run their fingers down your trembling thighs’ though, right?”

To emphasize his point, he lets the knuckles of his hand trickle down the back of your thigh, just barely grazing the skin. The sensation shocks you and almost sends you forward. This can’t be happening. Actually, you pray it isn’t, so your eyelids slam shut.

This prompts his other hand to pinch either side of your jaw gently and drag your face to his. “Or lay you back and tell you to take it like a good girl.” His eyes flicker from your eyes, to your lips, then back up, noting the state of disbelief your countenance holds. He flattens the hand that stops just under your ass.

You almost melt in his hold, and this he knows because of the long breath you took after his words. It’s easy to infer you’re fairly untouched by not only your responses, but how receptive you were. It was you two, only about an inch from each other now, waiting to see who would make the next move and risk something far worse than just a growing attraction. The twins flash in your head as a beat passes and you swallow.

“Yes. But that has nothing to do with you.”

Suna shines a smile with his teeth. “Your thighs are rubbing together.”

You look him up and down. “So?”

“Can I tell you a secret?”

You don’t look him in the eyes, they drop to your pillows. Before you can separate the thighs in question that are only disconnected by his fingertips, he nudges you forward onto him, bringing your hands back to his shoulders. You’re completely straddling while attempting to keep your eyes locked on his when his entire torso is on display. He leans forward to speak just above a whisper in your ear as if this is a normal occurrence.

“I can feel you dripping all over my hand.” The cool of his breath tickles your neck, only worsening as he continues. “Why is that?”

You’re at a loss for words at first, but you suck it up, holding your own. “Nothing to do with you. Maybe I went too hard earlier.”

He wholeheartedly chuckles at this response. “So you admit it?”

“Admit what?”

“That you were up here fucking yourself to your book?” His voice is an echo behind you since he’d decided to rest his chin comfortably on your shoulder.

“Yeah. Yeah—I guess I do. It’s not like you didn’t come in here and figure it out yourself,” your eyes roll.

“Which part were you reading?”

“Does it matter?”

“Yes.”

There’s a moment of silence. “She’d just decided to drop her toxic ex-boyfriend and his sister came to console her. The way she did it was kind of fucked up, and I think the slow burn is what made me look past it, but anyway—she brings her to a party, the boy she meets there happens to be the barista at the place she orders from every day, and he has a history with the main character’s ex. He hates him even though he’d gotten over it as years passed, but she really wants to get back at him, so they send an anonymous short video of them, um… together, and he gets really pissed off.”

Suna is quiet as he reviews what you just said. He admires your perception of the book and the passion to read. He goes, “You’re into that?” and then it’s your turn not to say anything, even with the amusement lacing his tone. You grow fidgety, and just when you don’t think any more words will be exchanged, he suddenly demands, “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“That. What you just did.” You shifted your weight from leg to leg as the silence grew longer. Just to see, you do it again.

“You’re grinding against me when you do that by the way.”

You giggle maliciously, continuing to go back and forth. It’s payback for teasing you the entire time. He comes to hold your hips still to prevent further movements, but in protest, you create an arch in your back to actually roll your hips down instead, ensuring he felt it.

“Okay, really, unless you want to move like that with my nine inches inside of you, I suggest you choose your battles now.”

You finally halt at the words. He was dead serious. He feels scratching along his shoulder blades at your fingers curling up in response, but not removing yourself. He still rests his head beside yours. “Oh, don’t tell me you’re into that too?”

So that’s how he ended up with his back to your headboard, head tipped up, looking at you through his pretty eyelashes as you wrap your hand around his slick length and reposition it to line up. You lower your body down, allowing your walls to open up for him. The stretch hurts only a little just because he’s so big.

You hadn’t kissed him the entire time, so he groans desperately when you wrap your fingers tightly around his neck and lean in. He allows you to no matter how hard you squeeze.

This drives up your confidence with your pretty lace panties pushed to the side, making you raise to your feet.

“Shit,” he grabs ahold of your ankles between half-lidded eyes, and his mouth slightly dropped like he can’t believe what the fuck he’s seeing. “If Atsumu could see you now.”

The mention of your brother at all should turn you off, but it doesn’t. It only fuels you knowing that you’re actively riding his teammate. In fact, you must tighten around him, because he knows immediately.

“What? Does that turn you on? Fuckin’ slut.”

You whimper at the words, pressing your lips forward to his. You kiss him the best you can as he hungrily reciprocates.

The bed moves forcefully, but Suna knows the other guys are probably too busy downstairs to hear it, and whoever is in the other room may only potentially be a problem. So up and down you go, now slamming your ass against him and reddening his slightly tan, freckled skin.

“Poor thing was up here by herself. If dick was what you really wanted, you know you could have always asked.”

“Hhhmmm,” you whine, breathing shallow.

The brunette lets you go until your legs burn and you’re slowing pace. It’s driving him insane watching you chase your orgasm, using him like he was the perfect replacement for your fingers, in your own little world with your face twisted up in ecstasy and muscles straining. You were too stubborn to stop when he offered it to you, but he doesn’t mind. Not everyone has legs like his.

He instructs while inching his hips up the bed, “Fall back to your knees.” You do, and he grabs one wrist in each hand before digging his heels into the blanket and pounding up into you at a pace you don’t think you could ever meet. It’s rough and loud and you can feel his balls coming up to strike you from behind. Quite literally, it takes your breath away.

“Fuck fuck fuck yes,” tendrils of your hair fall over your face when you lay your head down over his head for stability. Aside from not being able to move, this is the best angle for the both of you. Your tits move over his face, which would allow him to suck and bite as he pleases while holding you still, and with the tilt of your body his fat tip reaches your most sensitive part.

You bounce over and over and he wishes he would have pulled your shirt up first. He’s grunting in your ear dangerously.

“Was this in your book too? Is this when he told her to take it like a good girl?”

You try to answer but it’s incomprehensible with the speed of his thrusts.

He commands, “Again.”

“Y-Yes,” you retry, finally getting something out. He’s satisfied with this, so he lets go of your wrists and pushes you upright, only slowing for the moment. This time, he wraps his fingers around your neck, just enough for you to breathe, while rolling his thumb across your revealed clit. The veins of his forearm show themselves and he peers up at you with a glare as if you were the most irritating thing to him.

How hard you were holding him is nothing compared to how hard he is holding you, and just that thought has your eyes threatening to fall closed.

“Then be a good. Fucking. Girl,” he punctuates each word with a harsh upwards cut of his hips, “and take it.”

“Oh God,” you connect your own weak hands around his, your mouth falling open with every moan that floats into the air. He holds your gaze with his threatening eyes, and if you tried to look anywhere but him, he’d pull you right back. “Suna, I’m coming,” you rush it out like there’s no stopping now. And honestly, you’re currently wishing you didn’t say it at all, because you know if he told you not to, your body would try its best to comply.

“No the fuck you’re not.”

Godammit.

Removing his finger from your nub, he moves the hand to meet the other at your throat. You couldn’t speak even if you wanted to, which you did want to, just to let him know that this would only make it worse. There’s a movement: you’re coming down on him yourself with the force of the thrust driving you up.

Your mouth creates the words, but they don’t come out. Suna knows anyway. “Please.”

“No.” And it’s as simple as that, because then he says, “Do you hear that?”

Of course you don’t, he just asked to see if you were sane enough to come back to your senses and focus your hearing. His tight hold on you is enough to leave a mark, but not enough to prevent your head from slowly shaking back and forth.

“On the other side of that wall is your brother. Both of them.” Your eyes shoot wide at the same time his thrusts calm down. He still continues, it’s just with a deep grind to prevent the hard slapping of skin, and he brings your forehead to his as he speaks to you. “Come now and both of us are in trouble.”

He has valid reasons to infer that it is specifically the twins, but he’s sure you don’t want to hear those right now. If it was up to him, you would have been throwing your head back and showing that arch he imagines you had before he intruded in on you changing, but holding it above your head like meat to a starving dog was fine too.

“Please let me come Rin, please. I’ll be quiet,” a chaste kiss to the tip of his nose ends your pleading, hoping it softens him up with the use of his first name.

And maybe it worked, because his eyebrows curl upwards with pity when he explains, “We both know you’re too vocal for that, princess. How about we try something else?”

You nod frantically, raising off his length and letting him lay down completely while you wait for directions. He gets situated by moving pillows out of the way. “Come here.”

You realize now the pity he expressed was fake. Swinging your leg over his waist, you begin to line yourself up.

“No. Come here.”

You stare at him dumbfounded.

“Up here, towards me,” he ushers his hands. You scoot closer towards his chest with your hands on his pecs, not sure how much closer the two of you can get.

“My face, baby.”

Instead of getting angry with you, he kept his tone. It was little but it made you feel good. “Oh.”

You come to a hover over his lips, contemplating a lot and nothing at the same time, mainly if this man was really under you telling you to do what you’re doing.

“Sit.”

“Are you sure?” You clarify.

“Yes. Sit before I make you read your porn to me.” This brings your eyebrows in with a crease and you drop with no remorse on his lips. His face is smothered somewhere between your thighs. The only thing visible is his damp hair.

Unfortunately for you, he enjoys the thrill of not being able to breathe.

You’re less than two minutes into absolutely grinding on his tongue, chasing the vibrations of his grunts and groans by tugging on his hair. Your other hand is covering your mouth.

Thankfully, because there’s a quick knock, and Osamu’s voice passes through the door. “Pizza’s here. You okay in there?”

You nod as if he can see you. You then realize he cannot.

Shakily, you call out, “Yes.” The only way to not moan while Suna slides the muscle between your lips to taste all of your slick is by biting your lip. His fingers grip the fat of your thighs.

“Okay.” In the background there’s another voice, presumably your other brother. Finally, they become faint until you hear the stairs, and you allow yourself a little freedom.

“Rin,” you look down fully expecting to meet his eyes, but you can’t see him at all.

“Hmphh?”

“I’m close…can I?” On cue, he pushes in as far as his tongue can go inside your hole. He nods yes, simultaneously flattening it to lick all of you in one stripe before deliberately sucking your clit.

To muffle your sounds, your hand comes to cover your mouth once again and you’re somehow managing to prepare for your eyes squeezing shut at the same time as your muscles tensing. Suna can feel you dripping, literally this time.

this was kinda rushed

©️hxltic

[enree9h]

LAST HOUR | sjy

✮ PAIRING : fwb!jake x fem!reader

✮ SYNOPSIS : Time runs closer to midnight. With barely an hour left for Jake's birthday to end, you rush to get to him after having forgotten about it for the entire day. But Jake doesn't plan on letting you slide with it so easily so he makes you pay for it until midnight.

✮ WARNINGS : SMUT, p in v, unprotected s.ex, cursing, making out (lmk if I missed smth!)

✮ wc : 1.5k+

✮ a/n : this was supposed to be a Hoon fic ( my ass has been fixated on him for the past week, INTENSE hoon brainrot) but I hadn't released a Jake fic yet SOO. And to be quite honest- re reading it, I feel like it fits Jake better, dk. what do you think??

MDNI

Bursting through the doors of the club, your eyes frantically scan the crowd for him. The music is loud, almost deafening and you feel the bass seep into your body. The lights dim to a red so dark that it takes you a whole minute to adjust your vision to the lowered brightness of the place. You were late by twenty-three hours to be exact and the guilt that came with it did not help your case. When you finally caught the tiniest glimpses of him you felt your shoulders relax. 

He hadn't spotted you amidst the bustling crowd yet or so you thought.

With the restroom close in sight, you decide to step in for a quick minute before meeting him. Stumbling through your apartment at the last second did not leave you with much time in hand. And having to cover the twenty minute drive to this place meant you had to use up the time you could've spent looking decent. 

So you slip through the crowd and into the silence of the restroom. The faint sound of music flows through the cracks in the door but the sudden noise of a door being banged shut jerks you out of your internal rambles. 

“Someone finally decided to show up”, his tone has an icy bite to it and it doesn't fail to cut right through you. “Jake” you begin but when he walks up to you the mellow scent of wood and smoke hits you.

 “Look,” you utter but he comes to a halt right in front of you, his gaze burning right into your fidgety self, “I’m really sorry.” 

When he attempts to get closer you inch backwards until you meet the wall. “No you're not”, his arms slip around your waist and when he leans in you feel his lips graze yours. His hands travel lower until they reach your ass and you feel his nails dig into your skin through the silk of your skirt. “I was just too wrapped up in helping Jay move,” you say in a hushed whisper. 

Jake feels his frustration reach new heights at the mention of his friend, “Oh come on”, Jake scoffs.

“It’s always him”, his lips find your jaw, “but by the end of the day”, you feel him suck on the exposed skin of your neck, “It’s my cock you’re gagging on”, he lightly bites into your flesh, purple blooms over the expanse of your skin, “isn't that right angel?” 

When you attempt to respond he does not let any further words fall out of your mouth because the very next second he’s pulling you in, crashing his lips onto yours. His nails dig into the skin of your hips and you flinch when you feel him bite into the plump flesh of your already swollen lips. His fingers are on your thighs until you watch them slide under your skirt, pushing it up, leaving your skin exposed, all for him. 

“Waited for you all day though", he whispers against your lips and you feel the guilt render your body lose in his hold. “I’m so sorry Jake” but your words go unheard and when you catch his eyes you understand why. 

When his fingers reach your soaking core you gasp and lean on the walls, your back arching at the contact. Jake watches you squirm under him and he loves it. He loves the sight of your teeth sinking into your bottom lips, and the feeble attempts you make at concealing the guttural sounds that left your lips. But Jake was just getting started so when he presses his knuckles into your pulsating core you throw your head back and bite your hand until it left your skin dotted with red. “Let me hear you, angel” 

He is quick to hoist you up against the wall and your trembling legs wrap around his midsection with practised ease. With your underwear out of his way and dangling at your ankle, he is running his thumb over your clit. “Jake oh go-” but when he drives his finger inside of your dripping hole you see stars. 

“Already clenching around me baby?” His voice is hoarse and the sound of it with his finger buried in you drives you over the edge but Jake doesn't stop there. The moan you let out when he inserts another finger inside leaves Jake feeling for the bulge in his jeans. The sight of your whimpering self grinding on his fingers, drenched in your wetness, pressed against the walls of a random club restroom was enough to make him go feral for a feel of his throbbing cock buried in your tight hole.

You feel his knuckles drive into you without thought, every thrust leaves you shaking against him, your underwear slides off your ankles and falls to the floor but you couldn't care less. “So good Jake” you manage to whisper, your voice blanketed with lust.

“oh yeah?” the bite in his voice goes unnoticed by you. The tightening knot in your abdomen makes you deaf to any and every sound but the trance doesn't last for long because Jake is quick to pull his fingers out.

“Seriously?” your body which was previously shuddering with the onset of a release is now slumped in his hold. You were so close, a light press of his knuckles against your clit would result in you coming undone but he had to make you beg for it, pay for what you did to him today. 

Jake leans in to press a quick peck against your lips and with a devious smile plastered on his face he whispers “My turn”, with that you are flipped around, your palms hit the mirror on the wall and your upper body is left bending over the sink. 

You barely get a second to compose yourself before he plunges into you. “Jake oh my god” your screams bounce off the walls of the empty restroom, cutting through the feeble sounds of music from the party. 

“So tight for me baby” Jake’s voice doesn't sound like his anymore, the hold of his fingers on your hips tightens with every relentless thrust into you. Your breath fogs the mirror and when you attempt to glance at your reflection you catch Jake's eyes in the mirror. 

“Look at yourself”, one of his hands comes to wrap around your waist as he reaches for your clit, “letting me fuck you dumb” he's rubbing circles on your bud with a growing pace and you feel your body lose any and all control. Your legs tremble under the rush of such intense pleasure but Jake never attempts to slow down. 

“Jake I think I'm-”, the sounds of your wetness fill the air and you feel your face heat up with embarrassment. Jake thrusts his hips until he feels the tip of cock reach your cervix. Your palms slip over the smooth fogged up glass and your nails scratch against it as Jake pounds into you with a newfound energy. “F- feels so good angel”  he bends and attaches his lips to your nape, pressing sloppy kisses to your shoulder blades. 

The next second he is straightening back up, grabbing your hips and driving right into you. His eyes are glazed over, breath uneven and he seems to be in a daze so intense that all your screams go unheard. 

“Wish me”, you hear him say, his words coming out in pants but your mind was clouded and your spine arching under the pleasure, too engaged to respond. 

You feel his fingers on your clit, “Wish me, angel”, and when he pinches your bud you cry out from the stimulation and that is when you hear him. 

“H-happy-” he drives in deeper, “Birthda- oh god” when he flips you around and hoists you over the sink, your ass on the edge, you look into his eyes and instantly feel your body react to it. Dilated pupils, mouth half open, skin flushed red and the sweat that ran down his neck onto his exposed chest left you gasping for air. 

Jake leans in to nuzzle in the crook of your neck as he mercilessly plunges into you, wet kisses line your skin. Your head lolls back and when you feel his cock twitch inside of your throbbing core you spread your thighs further for him. 

“Fuck” his voice seeps into your skin and leaves you trembling in his hold until you feel him go slack. 

He moves inside of you and with one last thrust, you feel the knot in your belly unwind. 

You sit, shaking in his hold, coming down from the high. 

Your hands come to sit on his shoulders and you push him to stand in between your legs. Jake throws his head back in response and the groan that falls out of his lips makes you want to part your thighs further but you hold back. 

“Hey” you hold his face in your hands, “Happy birthday Jake” you whisper and lean in to plant a soft kiss on his lips. When you pull away lightly he leans in further to catch your lips again so chuckle against his mouth and give in.

[infamous-light]

You Belong to Me Ch. 4

Alcina Dimitrescu x F! Reader

Ch. 1 Ch. 2 Ch. 3

AO3: You Belong to Me

Summary: Lady Dimitrescu's obsession knows no bounds as she becomes increasingly possessive over you. Will you succumb to her dark embrace, or find a way to break free before it's too late?

Word Count: 2.3K

Warnings: Yandere, possessive/obsessive behavior, drugged

The air was thick with tension as you found yourself seated in the same chair positioned before Lady Dimitrescu's desk. Her figure loomed beside you, towering and imposing, her eyes blazing with barely restrained fury. The weight of her displeasure made your heart pound erratically inside of your chest.

“I've been told you were wandering the halls instead of having lunch as I instructed.” Lady Dimitrescu said, her voice low and dangerous.

You shifted uncomfortably under her gaze, trying to muster the courage to speak. “I-I was just talking to the staff. I didn't think it would be a problem.”

Her eyes flashed with anger, and she took a deliberate step closer, the sharp click of her heels echoing against the wooden floor. She stopped just in front of you, planting her hands firmly on her hips, adding an intimidating edge to her stance. Instinctively, you pressed yourself against the back of the chair, desperate to put some distance between you and her as much as possible.

“You didn't think it would be a problem?” Lady Dimitrescu repeated, her tone unsettlingly calm. “Bela informed me that you were meddling in areas that you had no business being in, ignoring my explicit instruction.”

As her words sank in, your palms grew clammy with sweat.

“I-I didn’t mean to." You stammered.

"You didn't mean to," she repeated, her tone laced with icy mockery. "That's hardly an excuse. I told you to have lunch, not wander off wherever you felt like."

You went silent, the weight of her disapproval heavy in the air. But the nagging thought of why she was so insistent on preventing you from speaking to the staff gnawed at you, refusing to be ignored.

"Why am I not allowed to talk to anyone?” You finally asked, hesitant. “I was only trying to-"

“It was a recent decision I made,” Lady Dimitrescu interrupted, her voice slicing through the air like a blade, sharp and unyielding. “My daughters simply carried out my orders and I expect you to obey without question.”

To your surprise, a surge of anger flared within you. You weren’t being given a proper answer.

Her reprimand felt like an unjustified attack, each word stinging like a lash against your skin. The venom in her voice caused a small knot to tighten in your stomach, and you found yourself clenching and unclenching your fists in a desperate attempt to release some of the mounting tension that stiffened your muscles. Yet, despite your efforts, the frustration within you continued to grow, threatening to boil over at any moment. Consequences be damned. The only thing that mattered now was standing your ground, even if it meant facing the repercussions later.

“But why,” you finally managed to grit out through clenched teeth, fixing her with a steely glare. “I don't understand why I can't-”

“Because you are mine!” Lady Dimitrescu snapped.

Her hands came crashing down on the arms of the chair, effectively boxing you in with such force that the wood creaked under the pressure. The sudden invasion of your personal space made you instinctively flinch back.

“You are my pet!” She declared, her grip tightening on the chair's arms, her nails digging into the polished wood. “You belong to me and no one else can have you! Is that clear!?”

At that moment, you were paralyzed by shock, rendered speechless as the gravity of her words took hold. Lady Dimitrescu’s claim over you was beyond possessive; it was deranged. Her gaze pierced into yours, unrelenting and fierce, and in her eyes, you saw a madness that threatened to consume you entirely. Then, a chilling smile spread across Lady Dimitrescu's lips, clearly amused by the look of disbelief on your face. With a calculated slowness, she leaned in, closing the distance between you two until her mouth hovered a mere inch from yours, her breath lukewarm against your lips.

“You belong to me now,” she purred, her words dripping with sinister satisfaction. “Every breath you take, every beat of your heart, is mine to command.”

With a gentle yet unnerving touch, she extended her right hand, running the back of her fingers down the side of your face. The delicate caress left a trail of dread in its wake.

“You are mine, now and forever,” her voice softened, almost tender, but the menace in her tone was still unmistakable. “And don't even think of escaping either, for I will find you. Always.”

You could only stare up at her in horror.

Lady Dimitrescu's gaze hardened once more, her expression shifting from predatory satisfaction to stern authority.

“Now, regarding your insolence,” she began, her words sharp but controlled. “I will grant some leniency this time. You were not previously made aware of the rule prohibiting interaction with anyone besides myself and my daughters until now,” she paused, allowing her words to hang in the air. “However, this will be your only warning. Disobey me again and the consequences will be far less forgiving. Do I make myself clear?”

The threat lingered in the air, thick and suffocating, like a dense fog enveloping the room.

“Yes, my Lady.” You responded, low and deferential, feeling defeated.

There was a long, tense silence. You could feel her eyes boring into you, evaluating, considering.

Finally, she spoke. “Good. Remember your place.”

Your teeth ground together, the muscles in your jaw tightening with suppressed anger. You forced yourself to breathe slowly, even as your thoughts raged against her.

***

For the rest of the afternoon, you remained quiet. Lady Dimitrescu didn’t say much either.

Every now and then, her eyes would flicker toward you, a cold, calculating look that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. To distract yourself, you studied the intricate patterns on the walls, but the oppressive atmosphere made it nearly impossible to concentrate on anything other than the formidable presence of the Lady.

The clock on the wall ticked away the minutes, each second stretching into what felt like an eternity. You dared not to speak, sensing that any interruption would be met with a fierce glare and harsh words. Instead, you observed her with cautious glances, noting the way her long, gloved fingers moved the fountain pen gracefully, yet purposefully, over the documents. Occasionally, she would let out a soft, almost inaudible sigh, her brow furrowing in thought.

As the afternoon light began to wane, casting long shadows across the room, Lady Dimitrescu set down the pen she had been using and leaned back in her chair. Her eyes narrowed as she stared down at you.

“I grow weary of sifting through these endless papers,” she sighed, her fatigue evident. “I’d say it’s time we had dinner.”

At the mention of food, your stomach couldn't help but betray you with a low, rumbling growl.

Lady Dimitrescu's lips quirked upward into an amused smile. “Hungry, are we?”

Your face flushed in embarrassment as you reluctantly admitted, “Yes, my Lady.”

“Now, we can’t have that,” she continued, her tone dripping with faux concern. “It would reflect poorly on me if I allowed my pet to starve.”

The word pet cuts through you like a knife, stirring a deep-seated loathing.

Lady Dimitrescu’s eyes twinkled in amusement. It was as if she could read your thoughts. “Let’s not waste any more time. Come.”

***

Lady Dimitrescu strode ahead with an air of effortless grace.

Her heels clicked softly against the carpet, each step measured and purposeful. You found yourself struggling to match her brisk pace, your shorter strides turning your attempt to keep up into a near jog. She glanced back at you, her eyes gleaming with that familiar, infuriating amusement.

“Keep up, pet.” She purred, the endearment laced with mockery.

You bit back a retort, knowing it would only amuse her further and perhaps invite more of her playful cruelty. A smile tugged at the corners of her lips as she turned away, continuing to lead you further down the dimly lit hallway.

Finally, you reached the entrance of the dining room.

The moment you stepped inside, the Lady's daughters all turned their gazes toward you. They exchanged knowing glances with each other, their lips curling into slight, conspiratorial smiles. The sight made your skin prickle, an unsettling sensation creeping over you. Lady Dimitrescu swept past you, taking her place at the head of the table. She cast a glance in your direction, a faint smile playing on her lips, her eyes glinting with an unreadable expression.

You couldn't understand why everyone was behaving so oddly. It was as if everyone but you were in on some elaborate joke. Despite the strangeness, you took your place at the table, the empty seat between Bela and Daniela waiting for you like a reserved spot. The table was already set with a lavish spread of delicacies that seemed almost too extravagant to consume. Silver platters overflowed with an assortment of roasted meats, vibrant fruits, and freshly baked pastries still warm from the oven. The sight of such a feast started to make your mouth water.

Daniela giggled and inched closer into your space, her breath lukewarm against your cheek. “Looks like someone is hungry.”

Heat rose up your neck and you leaned back, putting a bit of space between yourself and Daniela. In your sudden movement, your left shoulder grazed against Bela's own, drawing her attention. She turned to you, her eyebrow arched in amusement, a small smirk appearing on her lips. You averted your gaze quickly, heat spreading across your face even more.

Lady Dimitrescu observed the scene with a wide smile, then addressed everyone at the dining table, declaring, “You may eat.”

You picked up your fork and knife, cutting into the succulent roast in front of you. Each bite was a burst of flavor, the tender meat practically melting in your mouth. You reached for your glass next, your fingertips brushing against the smooth surface of the cool crystal. Unlike the dark red liquid swirling in their glasses, yours held only clear, pure water. As you raised the glass to your lips, you paused, noticing the way everyone was staring at you. Four sets of golden eyes, radiant and unblinking, seemed to scrutinize your every move.

You frowned, a hint of unease threading into your thoughts as you wondered why they were all watching you. Swallowing thickly, you took a sip. The water was cool and refreshing, soothing your parched throat, yet there was an odd undertone to its taste, a faint hint of something unfamiliar. It wasn't unpleasant, but it was enough to make you stop drinking. You set the glass back down, the soft clink sounding louder than it should in the heavy silence.

Lady Dimitrescu watched you intently over the rim of her wine glass, taking a slow, deliberate sip.

For a moment, you felt fine, but suddenly, a cold sweat began to bead across your forehead. You tried to focus, to clear your head, but a sudden wave of dizziness hit you. The room began to spin slightly, and you had to grip the edge of the table to steady yourself. Your vision blurred momentarily, forcing you to blink rapidly to clear it. Through the haze, you could see her smile widening ever so slightly.

“Is something the matter, dear?” Lady Dimitrescu asked mockingly, her sweet tone clashing with the sadistic gleam in her eyes.

You took a deep breath, desperately trying to calm yourself, but it was no use. The dizziness worsened, making it difficult to focus on anything. Their figures began to transform into indistinct, hazy silhouettes, their features lost in the dim light. You attempted to speak, to ask what was happening, but your voice came out weak and slurred.

“W-What-” You managed to croak out, your throat tight and painfully dry.

Panic surged through you, and you shot out of your seat, the force knocking over your chair with a loud clatter. The sound echoed through the room, yet no one moved to help you. Your heart pounded fiercely in your chest, each beat sending a fresh wave of nausea through you.

“What-” you stammered, grappling with the words before you finally managed to force them out. “What the hell did you do to me!?” You demanded, your voice cracking with fear and anger.

She leisurely raised her glass of wine, taking another sip with an air of detached amusement. After swallowing, she turned her attention back, her eyes glinting with a cold, mocking light.

“Calm down, pet. You'll only tire yourself out.” Lady Dimitrescu drawled, her tone dripping with condescension.

Her daughters snickered, their cruel laughter ringing in your ears. You stumbled back from the table, attempting to get far away from them. However, your vision almost went black, and your legs buckled beneath you, sending you crashing to the floor.

A pair of arms suddenly wrapped around your waist, firm yet surprisingly gentle, preventing you from falling to the floor. With a controlled, almost tender motion, you were slowly lowered until you lay on the ground.

“Oh my.” An airy voice giggled. Daniela had caught you, her features alight with mirth as she beamed down at you.

“G-Get off me.” You mumbled, your words barely coherent as you weakly attempted to push her away from you. Daniela's grip tightened, her laughter tinkling like a delicate bell.

You heard the others chuckle as they closed in around you, forming a tight circle of predatory grins and glittering eyes. Their amusement only grew with each whimper and groan of frustration that left your lips.

Cassandra knelt beside you; her gaze fixed on your face with an over-exaggerated pout. “Oh, don't be like that.” She cooed. Her hand reached out, gently brushing the sweat-drenched hair away from your forehead. You hated her touch, but you were too weak to bat her hand away as your limbs were heavy and unresponsive.

As you looked up at Lady Dimitrescu, a mixture of fear and confusion clouded your eyes, your helplessness evident. She maintained her serene smile as she gazed down at you.

“Take her upstairs, Bela.” Lady Dimitrescu instructed softly, turning toward her eldest daughter.

“Yes, mother.” She responded.

Bela stepped forward and knelt beside you. The world around you blurred violently as she hoisted you up, the dim light of the room fading into obscurity. With the last of your strength ebbing away, your vision darkened around the edges and the overwhelming exhaustion dragged you into unconsciousness.

[urprettylittlething]

Breeding Experiment

Yandere - Gojo Satoru x CursedKitty! Reader x Geto Suguru

A/N - Another part of CursedKitty universe! After a few very late nights and some glasses of wine I present to you a NSFW oneshot drabble thing where they fuck and want to breed Kitty :) I warn you this is my first time trying to seriously write some smut let alone a breeding kink so i apologise profusely in advance if this sucks, do let me know how it is <3 (and thank you to the lovely person to suggest breeding link <3) If you want to send in your own ideas for Kitty, my inbox is open! <3

summary - Gojo and Geto found out they can fuck you, can they breed you?

warnings - Dubcon/Noncon-ish? Kitty is having a pretty good time but they didnt ask for consent and she doesn’t really understand, female anatomy, they call Reader 'Kitty' and 'Experiment' a few times, cum, eating Kitty out, smut, breeding kink, vague Yandere vibes, they’re a little mean, (let me know if i need to add more please)

genre - Oneshot Drabble thing

wc - 1.3K

Edit - spelling and grammar fixed 09/10/23

Gojo was leaning back against his headboard, a few pillows stuffed underneath him. His legs were spread in front of him, knees bent so he could dig his feet into the mattress below him. Kitty was in his lap, her back resting against his hard chest. Her little tail was wound tight around her waist to keep it from getting crushed between the two of them.

The only thing she was wearing was a long and clean shirt, given to her by Satoru. She wasn’t wearing any underwear as him and Suguru deemed it unnecessary. She was for their eyes only so it didn't matter too much to them, and Kitty didn't seem to mind either. She looked similar to how the two of them first found her, but now she was cleaned, properly scrubbed and groomed to their satisfaction. 

Her Kitty ears were pressed flat against her hair as she pressed against Gojo. Each leg of hers had been hoisted up and over Gojos, keeping them hooked back and her pussy exposed. 

‘She’s such a dumb little thing.’ Gojo thought to himself. There she was, squirming against him, trying to close her legs. Not even thinking of just lifting her legs up so she could close them. No matter, it made his job so much easier of keeping her upper half restrained. 

He had wrapped his hands around her wrists and kept them tucked against her own chest. ‘And what a tease too.’ All of Kittys squirming had riled him up, getting him hot and bothered the longer she unintentionally grinded her ass against his hard cock. 

Suguru on the other hand had been between her legs for just over twenty minutes now. Eating her out like it was his last meal while she mewled, gasped and cried against Gojo. 

If Gojo was being completely honest, he didn't expect him and Suguru to take it this far. But they couldn't help their naturally curious nature.

Especially after the first bath they had been forced to give her. The both of them had quickly figured out just how little she knew, or understood for that matter. Rendering her useless to do most things by herself when she didn't understand them. 

Anyway, it was only natural for their eyes to wander, allowing themselves to take in the full image of her nude self. 

It shocked them a little to see just how much she resembled a human girl. She was equipped with full anatomy (atleast to their eyes on the outside), except the ears and tail of course. So it was only natural, the curious human nature of them, to think about whether… well… whether she worked or not. 

It had been around two weeks since then and in Gojos opinion he would say the two of them had held out pretty well, given his inability to be patient most times. But alas, here they were now.

Suguru groaned from where he was slurping Kitty’s juices from between her legs. “From all the curses I’ve had to swallow, she has to be the sweetest.”

Gojo gave a huff in response, a tad salty that he didn't get to go first, but it's whatever. The view he had been blessed with almost made up for it anyway. 

And of course poor Kitty seemed overwhelmed already, her chest heaving, body hot and sweaty, her ears flattened and twitching against her head and eyes half lidded. Her pouty mouth open, gasping and mewling incoherent noises at the pleasure Sugurus tongue was forcing her to experience for the first time. 

Every flick against the sensitive little nub causes her hips to jerk, mewling even louder. Every wiggle of his tongue inside her caused her to squirm even harder against Gojo as she cried out. 

“Poor thing,” Gojo murmurs, “I doubt she even understands what we're doing to her. Atleast shes enjoying it.” 

Suguru finally pulls his face away from her pussy, rising up to kneel on his legs from between hers. His mouth and chin were covered in Kittys juices. He starts pulling off his clothing, using his shirt to wipe around his mouth. 

As he was pulling off his last article of clothing, Kitty was starting to squirm again. Making little noises and whines that neither of the two really understood, not quite understanding why the stimulation had all of a sudden stopped. 

They had quickly figured out that she couldn't communicate with them in any language. Tugging at their shirts and whining at them to indicate she needed something. Although they had learned that she could understand them, to a certain extent. 

Gojo hushed her and leaned down to press gentle kisses against her exposed neck. “Shh.. Calm down Kitty. Suguru is going to take real good care of you now.” She seemed to calm a little at that. 

Suguru leaned forward, now on his knees between them. With Kittys forcibly spread legs, courtesy of Gojo, on either side of him it allowed him to place his hands on the flesh of her thighs. The tip of his throbbing cock now poking and teasing at her little hole. 

“Should be nice and easy, Kitty. Nice and wet, such a good girl for us, huh?” Suguru said, beginning to push his way into her tight hole, loosened up a little from his tongue. Kitty’s walls fluttered and pulsed around him while he bowed his head and groaned. 

“God, for a curse this pussy is tight. Warm too.” He muttered as he inched himself further into her heat. 

“Bet she could take both of us. Such a dirty little kitty we have on our hands, enjoying Sugurus cock so much, aren't you?” Gojo teased as she mewled and moaned and pawed at them. Her head was tilted back and resting against his shoulder, a small dribble of drool escaping down the side of her mouth. He couldn't blame her, after all, she had bigger priorities to worry about right now. 

“Could fill this pussy up so well. Breed her like the bitch she is.” Suguru groaned, furrowing his brows as he began pumping in and out of her tight walls. 

“You think we could breed her?” Gojo perked up a little in interest. The thought was certainly entertaining given the throbbing in his pants. 

“If we stuff her full enough, probably.” He grunted in response. Beginning to thrust his hips into Kittys even harder. Wet, slapping sounds filled the room they were in, almost louder than the little curse situated in Gojos arms. 

She began to pant and whine, droplets of tears gathering in the corners of her eyes as she squinted, her tongue poking out from between her lips. They both could take a good guess as to what was about to happen. 

Suguru began to fuck into her even harder while Gojo reached down with one hand, the other keeping a hold of her wrists, to flick and rub and pinch at her little clit poking out from all the pleasure.

Kitty screeched and cried as her ears trembled and her tail shuddered from where it was wrapped tightly around her. Her orgasm overwhelmed her, causing her pussy to tighten and gush with even more juices. Making the sounds from between them sound even wetter.

Suguru threw his head back, groaning as he emptied his load deep inside her as Gojo leaned down to whisper into her ear.

“We're going to breed you, you’d want that right? Have your tummy round and full with our child, all for you to look after. Stuffed full with our cum, our perfect little experiment, huh?” His fingers are still rubbing and circling the throbbing nub, making her cry and tremble and squirt more of her juices.

He only stopped when Suguru had recovered and began pulling himself out of Kitty’s fluttering walls. Both pausing to stare at the way his cum oozed out from her little pussy.

Kitty’s eyes fluttered while her ears relaxed against her hair, closing her eyes in bliss and seemingly exhausted. 

Suguru and Gojo looked up at each other after a moment of silence between them and what had just occurred before he spoke up.

“Come on Kitty, my turn.”

[assortedgoods123]

Severus Snape x chatty!reader Soulmate AU

Writers block with stardew valley stuff so im trying something totally different to shake the cobwebs loose

do ppl still need to say they dont fuck with jkr or is it a given at this point? (genuine question)

*meet-cute!!!*

*this reader has titties and gender neutral pronouns*

Walking quickly, your eyes are glued to your phone as you round the corner of a street in London. You are already running late for a meeting but you absolutely refuse to deal with your coworker's bullshit without something caffeinated in your hands.

Just as you are about to look up and find the entrance to the cafe you frequent, you slam into something. You squeak out a nervous gasp when you realize it wasn't a lamp post, but a person.

"Ohmygosh I am so so so sorry!" You say, frantically digging in your bag for your horde of cocktail napkins. Your eyes flit nervously over the stranger, realizing you're both covered in his drink order. Dabbing at his torso with your little napkins, his silence makes you about a thousand times more anxious.

"I really am so so sorry, I wasn't looking where I was going, it's totally my fault." You stammer out, glancing at up at his face while you pat pat pat his chest with your napkins.

Your poor little heart, already beating like a hummingbird in your chest, leaps into your throat at the sight of the hottest fucking guy you've ever seen in your life. The kind of hottie you would chase down the street to throw yourself at. You've done very embarrassing things to get a chance to know people who are far less good-looking than this man in front of you now. And because you were too preoccupied with your phone, you're almost certain you won't be walking away with his number.

And he's frozen, staring at you with a weird look on his face. Definitely the worst first impression you could have possibly made.

Never one for fits of grace, you frown and say, "People as attractive as you should come with an escape lever." You throw the soggy napkins in the trash nearby and add, "I hate embarrassing myself in front of hot people."

Still not getting a response, you turn and look up at him. "You gonna say anything handsome?"

-

Severus Snape has never been rendered this speechless in his entire life.

The day the courts ruled him not guilty enough for Azkaban was certainly shocking, but even that paled in comparison to what he was experiencing now.

He was leaving his favorite coffee shop when he bumped into a muggle. People are clumsy, it happens. But then, instead of apologizing and running away from the tall scary man, they started talking to him. The sweetest, softest voice Severus had ever heard, telling him he's... hot. Attractive. Handsome.

Every single time anyone has ever shown interest in him in public, Severus has immediately and viciously shut them down. Far better to come across as an asshole upfront than to be humiliated and heartbroken later.

But now, he had this sweet little muggle running their warm hands all over his chest in a matter of seconds. Before he could snarl at them to back off, he looked down and, well.

What was already a very low-cut top was now soaked with tea, becoming slightly translucent. Half of Severus was now laser-focused on the stretch of the damp fabric over your tits, while the other half was screaming at him to get a hold of himself.

You asked him a question, he realizes. Jerking his head around to face you properly, he blurts out, "Huh?"

Oh he's doomed, he thinks.

-

You gasp and grab his arm, "Oh no I'm already so late I need to go right now but listen, here's a bit of money to buy yourself a new drink it's the least I can do I'm so so sorry for running into you and dashing away but I really am late it was nice to meet you bye!"

Hustling away, you sigh and hope you run into him again. Such a shame you couldn't stay and flirt longer. Checking your watch, you growl and break into a jog. Fuck this day, you think.

-

"Fuck this day" Severus mutters, before heading down an alley to dissipate home. Just like him to meet someone who actually thinks he's attractive only for them to be so late they have to literally run.

It was only a fraction of a moment, but Severus knows it'll be the thing keeping him from falling down a pit of despair some nights.

Hating himself as he does it, he sniffs the money you handed him. It smells like your perfume. He sets it aside on his dresser.

Pathetic virgin, he thinks.

Later that night, however, he wakes with a gasp. "Idiot idiot idiot!" He snarls, yanking the covers away from himself. "You were so focused on them you forgot to check your soul mark" He glowers at himself in the mirror before lifting his tongue. There, on the underside, is a swirl unique to him and his soulmate.

His heart skips a beat when he sees it glitter in the dingy bathroom lighting. It's activated. And the only people he spoke to yesterday were you and the exhausted-looking barista.

He thinks of the look on your face when you saw him, how you pouted so cutely when you threw the napkins away. The way your clothes stretched over your body.

I've gone mad, he thinks, as he throws on some clothes and dissipates to an alley in London.

-

I am literally insane, you think.

You've been sitting on a bench outside the coffee shop you almost went in yesterday for about half an hour now. It's too early for anyone else to be up and about yet, it's about 3 in the morning. You woke up last night realizing you didn't check your soul mark after meeting that stupidly hot guy. Sure enough, it was activated.

You twist your fingers anxiously, hoping and hoping that he will show up eventually. You'll be so sad if it's not him.

Suddenly, you hear an odd noise in a nearby alley. Nervously, you run your hands along your pepper spray.

Turning your head to look, you see him. Disheveled and breathing heavy, he locks eyes with you and storms over.

Feeling slightly lightheaded, you rush towards him and lift your tongue up so he can see. Tears of happiness and overwhelm run down your face when he nods and shows you his activated mark.

"Can I...?" You open your arms, asking for a hug.

Hesitating, he steps into your embrace, standing like a stiff board while you sniffle into his shirt and squeeze him tight.

You have a good feeling about this.

(not sure how to end it so ill call it here 🤗)

[anon-e-miss]

The Desert Blooms - 11

If they thought a priest they could make of him, they were particularly hopeless fools. Praxus believed their emperor blessed by the gods. Camshaft put no stock in the wisdom of the divine. What sort of god would bless Windbreaker? Certainly none Camshaft thought worthy of psalms. He walked the abbey’s maze while the priests and acolytes were in prayers. Walls surrounded the temple complex and though they raised his hackles, Camshaft ignored them for now. He ran his digits along a quartz hedge. Fine dust fell from his palm. Elsewhere, the fine dust, really seeds, he had sown before was taking root, hidden beneath the maze’s manicured hedges. In time they would grow and in time he would harvest, all Camshaft had to do was wait. Impatience bred error and Camshaft could not afford mistakes.

In the private chapel attached to his apartments, Camshaft prepared a workshop. He hid his tools, a mortar and pestle and beakers to begin, all pilfered from the abbey’s kitchen, underneath scrolls stored in the padded bench. Within the cupboard, he tried crystals he had picked from the abbey’s sprawling garden. A piece of resin burned in a hanging incense burner, it suitably masked the scent of his work. A single scroll was open on the altar, selection of offerings, crystals he had preserved sat alongside it. It was enough of a show to keep the priests from digging any further into his affairs. A pair had been assigned watch of him and Camshaft made certain to be an utmost boring charge. It would not be long before they grew tired of this task and Camshaft could go about his business with less supervision.

He did not light a lantern or even his headlights when he slipped from his apartments late in the dark-cycle. By chance, Camshaft had observed what looked like marcacite growing among a cluster of galena at the base of the abbot’s dovecote and he had waited for the double full moons to investigate. Moving silently, the prince slipped into the abbot’s garden. His steps were silent, and his paint flat and unremarkable, along him to disappear into the shadows of the night. Camshaft had mastered this as a youngling. In the emperor’s palace, to be seen was to be an open target. His originator had called it cowardice. They were all cowards, Camshaft thought, Windbreaker still had eight creations living. Zeta had been the boldest and quickest to die though Polyhex had been blamed for his assassination. For all Camshaft knew, that was true, he had not shot the aft, in any case. Though his brothers and sister carried blades when they were gathered, none had drawn one in vorns. It was all too easy to have the blade turned on its holder; this lesson was one Camshaft would take credit for teaching.

Though he had not been in the habit of carrying a knife, Camshaft wished for one now but his originator had ordered him to be tonsured unarmed. Did he hope one of Camshaft’s siblings would take advantage of his confines to strike at him. It was unlikely, they were not bold mechanisms. He spotted the marcacite, blooming now in the light of the twin moons. Marcacite only bloomed when both moons were full. Quickly, Camshaft plucked the blooms, using his claws, now painted black, to cut them from the galena they grew from. It was almost as clean as using cutters. Once they had grown more, they would be just as lethal as a blade. Windbreaker thought he had rendered Camshaft helpless, he was wrong. Camshaft would never be helpless. As he made his way back to his apartments, Camshaft saw spindly blooms growing in a mass of leafy gneiss. It was so similar in appearance to the Queen Munitia’s Lace it grew amongst, Camshaft almost missed the zoisite. The barest of smiles crossed Camshaft’s face as he harvested the poisonous blooms. It was no longer a matter of just waiting for the spores and seeds he had sown to grow, now Camshaft had something he could work with now.

It loathed him to smile as Crosscut, the damnable mech, removed his cloak. Calor was only just fading into Imber. There was no cause for a cloak but it was a fine piece of clothing and Crosscut never failed to showcase his wealth at every possible opportunity. Did he think wealth could ever impress Camshaft? Whatever small token the emperor bequeathed a favourite, as a prince, Camshaft had seen and spent so much more. Richest were nothing to him and never had been, though he could admit he missed the power he had wielded as Duke. These priests did not obey him as his servants had. No, Camshaft had no authority over them, his originator would not want to make life easy for his most hated creation.

The new Duke of Petrex smiled his politician’s smile as his footmecha, a femme called Road Rage took his cloak. He was too pleased with himself. Though it would have suited Camshaft to drag his claws across his face, such naked violence would not serve his purposes. This mech had been gifted Camshaft’s hereditary title as a reward for telling Windbreaker of the mutilation Camshaft’s natural and adoptive creations had endured. Though Camshaft had been relieved at first to hear his creations had escaped death and were to both be bonded to the heirs of Amalgamous, once he had read what the Tough of Adaptus meant, he had been devastated. He had no more tears to cry with the news, and the knowledge that his originator celebrated the shameful mutilation done to his grandcreations. All Camshaft had now was rage.

“Amber?” The acolyte attending them cut the jade tart and served it.

“Of course,” Crosscut said. “More high grade! Didn’t you notice the prince’s goblet is empty?”

“Yes, my lord.”

It was true, Camshaft’s goblet was empty, the high grade taken from the abbot’s personal reserve was watering the quartz Crosscut had presented him. No one had seen Camshaft pour it out. Crosscut’s goblet had been refilled several times already. The scoundrel was fond of engex, overfond really. What the acolyte, the fourth or fifth creation of a noble clan, had imagined his duties would be when he had sworn his spark to the gods, serving as waiter to a lecherous social climber was unlikely to be it. He did not mask his derision well but Crosscut was already too deep in the bottle to notice, that or he just saw the acolyte as beneath him.

“Thank you,” Camshaft said. He took a sip as he watch Crosscut pour a thick layer of amber syrup on his tart. Camshaft’s already glistened with it. He took a bite and inclined his helm, dismissing the acolyte.

“I hope you’ve considered my offer since our last dinner together,” Crosscut said, as soon as the acolyte was out of the room.

“I have,” Camshaft replied. His claws glistened with a rich black polish, the blue accents, his chevron and his arms and legs had been polished to a shine. He looked effortless rich and refined, and he knew Crosscut was salivating.

“And?” Crosscut asked. “Will you accept my proposal, be Consort of Petrex?”

“I cannot possibly accept,” Camshaft replied, demurring. “The emperor would be furious. He would send you to the gallows for certain.”

“And if the emperor agreed?” Crosscut asked.

“Then how could I refused?”

“Ahem,” the acolyte appeared at the door. “It’s time for prayers. All guests must leave the abbey.”

Camshaft leaned back against his chair, sipping his engex, as the acolyte cleared the table. The young mech was scowling. The new Duke Petrex had been deep in his cups before he had left and had broken not just his goblet but the amber pot and his dessert plate. Old wealth rarely cared for the new and Crosscut had not made a good impression. Did Crosscut really believe he could convince the emperor to allow him to wed a prince, even his most hated one? The mech had a very high opinion of himself, there was no doubt of that. The nearest village was only a short drive. By now, Crosscut would be celebrating his imagined victory at the pub, making an even greater spectacle of himself than he had already, from the gossip Camshaft had heard.

“Shall I draw you a bath, Your Highness?” The acolyte asked.

“Please.”

“And more high grade?”

“No thank you,” Camshaft replied. “I prefer to keep my helm.”

He stripped himself of his armour and climbed into the hot oil bath the acolyte had prepared. Camshaft sighed and leaned his helm back against the ledge. Things had gone far more smoothly than he could have hoped. If need be, he had been prepared to bed the damnable mech, but Crosscut’s fondness for engex and the acolyte’s chaperonage had saved him that indignity. By mid-cycle the tradesmech that worked for the abbey would be in a tither about the ignoble death of the Duke of Petrex. To die of intoxication was quite unbecoming. The emperor would be quite annoyed that yet another favourite he had elevated had died in this way. It was the very same way Camshaft’s consort had died. Camshaft took a sip of engex. Well, not quite the same way. For Garboil, he had mixed the poison into his Tetahexian brandy, for Crosscut, he had mixed it into the amber syrup he so favoured. It was a shame he would not know that Camshaft had done him in, but Camshaft knew and that was enough. For now.

[thefaiao]

seeing your clowns made me go feral since my fixation is cringe and clown flavored

Who let you cook like that who let you cook AUTHHFFH UR ART IS SO COOL IM BEING DRAGGED AWAY

You’re hatching is so fucking inspiring since it’s soMETHING I try to do in my own work I LOVE UR ART

would it be fine to ask what brushes you use? I love ur values also, you’re so so good at shapes and form WAAAA I LOVE UR STUFF. I did dig up an old ask you made iirc, but I’m not sure if it’s changed

Hey! Thank you very much. I'll go through the brushes I use for each program: Drawpile

From what I understand most of these are MyPaint brushes... but I only know them as drawpile brushes because that's what I use. Main ones I've used lately is Irregular Ink and a default brush for coloring

I don't really change the size of irregular ink much and the pressure doesn't matter that much. It has high stabilization which I haven't changed, but I'm sure you could get away with lowering it. For the other brush I'm pretty sure it's a default one that I slightly tweaked (drawpile is a bit bad about communicating what brush exactly you are using to you.) I quite like it because it feels like playing with clay, makes it easy to map out the volume. I use it for those lineless pieces I do from time to time too. I change its size a lot while drawing. I've also used these two, one of the pencil brushes and a second one I stole from Jokioro that I have no idea what is called

I used the first one for the D'arce I did a while ago and the recent VTMB piece. It's great at emulating sketchy graphite pencils, I like layering it to do multi-colored hatching rendering. The second one I don't know how to use super well yet but it's probably my fourth most used as of late. It works very weirdly so if you wanna figure out how to make it work I recommend looking at how Jokioro draws. Clip Studio I bounce around a lot with all the brushes, but I use a loooot of stuff from the Frenden pack. Mainly Meeko Leako for lining and even coloring, it has a great texture to it, very fun

This has been my most used brush for years. It's great for super straight lines and produces a great difference in value between quick lines and thick lines. I haven't used it as much since I picked up drawpile more recently, but it's amazing! Other than that I use the default G-pen when I just want simple lines without much texture

It's a bit ugly at a glance but I think if you lock in it's great for super clean lines, just trying to get the point across without much noise. I also like coloring with it at times, when I'm going lineless. SAI Binary pen. Use the binary pen. It's the best brush ever made

It just feels super right to draw with it, it's so simple but it makes your lines look super slick, and it's just a binary pen. I guess they just got the behavior down perfect for it. But yeah, love this brush. IRL I've always used these archival ink pens in different sizes for basically everything I've done traditionally, and of course just a simple number 2 pencil for sketching and such. I've used a bit of charcoal recently, and been wanting to deep into darker pencils for detail, but this is still the default. I also will probably try out dip pens sometime

That's all I can think of immediately, but I always like to mess around to try and find another great brush, and you should do the same even if you end up using these a lot.

[my-deer-friend]

Play along: Amrev codebreaker!

While browsing through some primary materials reading up about John Laurens’ mission to France as special minister to the court of Versailles, I came across a letter that he wrote to the president of the Continental Congress on 9 April 1781 that included a coded message using a numerical cipher. 

I took a shot at deciphering it – here’s the process I followed, and you can play along too!

1. The first step, of course, was to determine which specific encryption was being used. After a bit of digging, I came across the immensely useful United States diplomatic codes and ciphers, 1775-1938 by Ralph E Weber. He explains that the cipher in question was “prepared on separate encode and decode sheets, the latter contained 660 printed numbers, with usually 600 words, syllables, and letters of the alphabet scattered randomly throughout the sheet.” So, for example, the word “congress” is “143”, the syllable “el” is “593” and the letter “r” is “215”. This cipher was an updated and improved version of the one used by Benjamin Tallmadge, and Weber explains that Laurens was the first one to use it. Weber also handily provides the decode table in an appendix. 

2. The second step was to design an efficient way to decode the hundreds of numbers Laurens used in his letter, and the obvious answer was my good friend the spreadsheet. I transferred the table from the book to Google Sheets, which was mildly tedious but hugely time-saving later on.

3. Now the fun part! I typed out the numbers from Laurens’ letter, and then used a simple LOOKUP formula to match the number to the decoded text.

The cipher also includes two nuances - an underscore beneath the word means a plural, and an overscore denotes adding an “e” - so I marked these in the cells with pink and green highlights respectively.

4. The final step was correcting a few errors in my table, refining the decoding (some numbers have various iterations to save space, such as 103 which can be any one of “ec/eck/ek” depending on which syllable is needed), and extracting the final text. 

It all reads very smoothly, with the singular exception of “ght-f-t”, which is the way Laurens rendered the word “gift”. The obvious explanation for this mangle is that he mis-wrote 340 (ght) instead of 170 (gi).

That’s definitely 340, 304, 196 which decodes as “ght-f-t”.

While it seems like a strange error to make, bear in mind that the encoding sheet (the one Laurens was using to change plaintext into numbers) would have been listed in alphabetical order to make finding the numbers easier (while the person at the other end has the sheet in numerical order, to reverse the process just as easily). And when we sort alphabetically, we can see that 340 and 170 are right next to each other:

A simple slip to make for someone writing coded letters late at night in low candlelight.

If you want to play along:

Here’s the code/decode spreadsheet. 

And here is the transcribed text (underlines for plurals, asterisk for added “e”). I've given the solution under the cut!

I have employed the most unremitting efforts to obtain a prompt and favorable decision relative to the object of my mission_ 381, 304, 543, 437, 366, 377, 276, 75, 75, 226, 269, 385, 426, 377, 17, 465, 197, 481, 428, 593, 381, 355, 153, 278*, 428, 333, 70, 18, 405, 184, 226, 291, 197, 376, 524, 330, 446, 362, 449, 143 The Count de Vergennes communicated to me yesterday his most Christian Majesty's determination to guarantee 381, 59, 594, 18, 9, 205, 330, 497, 254, 401, 376, 503, 306, 503, 467, 428, 226, 236, 330, 278*, 245, 205, 506, 99, 376, 381, 381, 256, 184, 90, 340, 304, 196 ...and the value of the military effects which may be furnished from the Royal Arsenal, 418, 330, 497, 428, 197, 380, 377, 196, 376, 45, 278, 245, 205 I shall use my utmost endeavours to procure an immediate 467, 208, 491, 18, 278*, 9, 205, 45, 278, 42, 381, 230, 215, 355, 18, 237, 330, 497*, 215, 167, 290, 377, 376, 341, 278, 182, 302, 75, 376, 59, 594, and shall renew my solicitations for the 357, 34, 197, 18, 203, 291, 491, 481, 484, 34, 325, 89, 113, 392, 197, 269, 336, 458, 278*, 97, 18, 245, 205 may not be 126, 21, 215, 497, 376, 341, 296, 75, 477, 226, 103, 196, 481, 278*, 483, 215, 553, 75*, 18, 238, 377, 59, 374, 478, the providing this article I fear will be attended with great difficulties and delays as all the 476, 490, 481, 36, 228, 351, 392, 226, 197, 18, 237, are remote from the sea, and there are no 441, 420, 50, 563, 503, 197, 18, 377, 59, 278, suitable to our purposes. The cargo of the Marquis de la Fayette will I hope arrive safe under the convoy of the Alliance_ 481, 341, 78, 465, 75, 426, 408, 596, 115, 76, 376, 174, 196*, 291, 103, 197, 75, 75, 184, 226, 197, 281, 5, 171, 278*, 428, 593, 381, 355, 492, 194, 236, 376, 45, 574, 408, 504, 366, 381, 506, 197, 197, 193, 213, 75, 197, 199, 291, 377, 197 The Marquis de Castries has engaged to make immediate arrangements for the safe transportation of the pecuniary and the other succours destined for the United States_ 481, 350, 215, 167, 450, 196, 376, 34, 381, 75, 473, 376, 76*, 458, 278*, 72, 208, 449, 577, 114, 89, 405, 486, 497, 197, 113, 126, 34, 361, 376, 269, 278*, 277, 291, 104, 381, 113, 278*, 401, 230, 408, 550, 552, 342, 291

Have fun!

I have employed the most unremitting efforts to obtain a prompt and favorable decision relative to the object of my mission_ after many discussions, difficulties and delays with the details of which it is needless to trouble congress.

The Count de Vergennes communicated to me yesterday his most Christian Majesty's determination to guarantee a loan of ten millions to be opened in Holland in addition to the six millions granted as a gracious gift.

...and the value of the military effects which may be furnished from the Royal Arsenal are to be deducted from the six million.

I shall use my utmost endeavours to procure an immediate advance of the ten millions from the treasury of France to be replaced by the proposed loan,

and shall renew my solicitations for the supplies of the ordinance and military stores on credit that the present of six millions may not be absorbed by thousands objects and the purchase of necessary clothing

the providing this article I fear will be attended with great difficulties and delays as all the wool and manufactories of France are remote from the sea, and there are no

public magazines of cloth suitable to our purposes.

The cargo of the Marquis de la Fayette will I hope arrive safe under the convoy of the Alliance_ and by satisfying our immediate necessities prevent the delays above-mentioned from having any disagreeable consequences

The Marquis de Castries has engaged to make immediate arrangements for the safe transportation of the pecuniary and the other succours destined for the United States_ and has repeatedly assured me that the naval superiority which will be established on the American coast the ensuing campaign

[foli-vora]

Congrats on 3k, lovely!!!!

Can I have “you know where to find me.” with Dave York?

Pls turn my pelvis into dust. Your Dave is AMAZING.

My love. Thank you for your never ending support and love. I am honoured you enjoy my Dave! I apologise for the delay, and I hope you enjoy! ❤️

A sidenote: Yes, I'm slowly making my way through these requests. Yes, they are incredibly late. Yes, we're ignoring the fact I'm well over 3k now LMAO.

your taste i crave

dave york x f!reader

word count: 1.3k warnings: SMUT 18+ ONLY. semi public sex/workplace sex, rough unprotected p in v, brief talk of choking, vague descriptions of toy use, use of tie as a gag, creampie, oral sex (f), cum eating, a brief thigh nibble, dave's messy idc

The edge of the copier is harsh where it digs into your stomach, but you can’t find it in you to care—not when he’s moving like this, not when his hands are locked on your hips, keeping you at his complete mercy as he takes what he wants.

He’s so fucking rough, and if you didn’t have the tight pull of his work tie around your mouth and making words practically impossible, you’re absolutely positive you’d be begging him for more.

You don’t think it will ever be enough.

Instead, all that falls from your parted, restrained lips are muffled whines and broken moans when he hits that spot that’s almost too far. It sends a jolt of pain through your system, rocketing up your spine and bringing your body harder against the machine in an effort to escape the intense sensation, but it’s quickly replaced with more heat, more need.

He merely drags you back against him each and every time, his neatly trimmed nails pressing indents into the fleshy skin of your waist as he moves behind you with tightly restrained grunts, the slap of his hips meeting your ass echoing in the small copy room.

Despite the time of day, with most of the office having enough and retreating home, there’s not much time left.

Beyond the dizzying, overwhelming feel of him rutting into you without abandon; cock so fucking solid, so goddamn thick; and bringing a flood of tears to your lash line, you know it can’t last—not like it usually does.

He’d still want to go back to work—most likely for the rest of the evening, the strict borderline obsession with his career rendering him unable to leave the mountains of work flooding his desk.

So there’s no room for build up here. No time for teasing. No long, blissful drawn out torture of him bringing you to the edge only to stop at its peak again and again.

This is about release. This is about working and relieving the tension that had been slowly building across his broad shoulders with every bullshit thing that had happened today and granting him a clearer head for the hours left at the office. This is about him, and you’re only too happy to oblige.

“Might—fuck… might have to–to make this a regular work thing,” he grits out, hand curling around the back of your blouse and tugging roughly at it until your back is pressing against his chest.

The silk collar of it cuts into the soft flesh of your throat, and you want to ask for more.

Maybe his hand? His long thick fingers curling around the width of it and giving it that perfect squeeze that borders on too much but is always just enough.

Maybe his belt? The worn, cared for leather smooth against your skin as it tightens and tightens, slowly pushing your lungs to the max until you’re weeping from the irresistible assault of sensations.

The gag wound tight around your mouth makes it impossible to get the words out, and his mouth latches onto the curve of your shoulder, nipping and biting at the skin until it feels raw. You stretch out for more, his lips soon running hungrily along the expanse of your throat.

Close.

He’s getting close.

You know it, you can feel it.

You can feel it in the way his already bruising grip tightens just that little more. You can feel it in the way his breath starts to catch where it ghosts your skin, sticking in his throat and coming out in shorter pants as he chases the promise of that sweet, sweet high.

You can’t speak, can’t utter a single fucking word to coax him along. You can’t beg for him to keep going, to finish right where he is and fill you to the fucking brim so you can take a part of him home.

He goes wild for your shaky home videos, the smooth finish of your vibrator glistening with the remnants of his cum sliding down the silicon as you fuck yourself with his name on your lips in the cosy comfort of your bedroom.

A mantra of his name fills your mind.

Dave, Dave, Dave.

You want him to hear it, you want him to know that it’s only him that could do this, only him that could use you like this. You love it, crave it.

That familiar tingle runs along your spine in anticipation, your body aching for just that little bit more, your clit throbbing in need of desperate attention to get you just over that line right alongside him—

The groan that falls from his throat is utter filth, hoarse and throaty, and one of your favourite fucking sounds he makes. He slams his hips upwards one more time, forcing the head of his cock right up against your soft cervix as he starts to cum, and you’re left to do nothing but whine into the now damp material of his tie, barely aware of the tear that leaks from the corner of your eye.

He takes a long moment to recover, sweat slicked face hidden in your shoulder as his chest heaves against your back. The tie loosens from around your mouth and falls to rest at the base of your throat, leaving a mess of saliva coating your lips and chin which you try to wipe away as cleanly as possible with the back of your hand.

Too soon, he starts to pull away, guiding his softening cock from your tender, weeping cunt with a low hiss of ‘fuck’ before you hear the rustle of his slacks and the smooth pull of his zipper.

You take that as your silent cue, twisting and bending as well as you could on shaky legs to retrieve the damp panties still tangled around your ankles and attempt to drag them back up into place.

“What do you think you’re doing?” He asks gruffly, tugging the thin lace out from your fingers and letting them drop to your feet once more. “Who said I was finished with you?”

“But—”

There’s no time to argue.

He works quickly, dropping to his knees and gripping the underside of your ass enough to spread you open before pressing forward eagerly. The thick, firm feel of his tongue swipes through the mess he had made, forcing its way along your wet folds before pushing into your throbbing cunt.

You manage to smother the yelp of surprise with a quick slap of your hand over your mouth, half wishing he had left the gag in place if he wasn’t done with you. Maybe he’s trying to test you, or maybe he just doesn’t give a shit about being quiet anymore.

God, it’s risky.

It’s so fucking risky, it’s so fucking good—

He holds you tightly, winding an arm around the front of you to pull you harder against his face as he practically devours you from behind, eagerly coaxing more of his cum and your arousal into his mouth with feral curls and flicks of his tongue.

Your knees threaten to give out when he finally moves away from your entrance and finds your clit, smoothing over the swollen nerve with alternating quick, light flutters and firm, wide rolls. He falls into his pace easily, rekindling the heat in the pit of your stomach in a way only he knows how and you’re desperate to find something to anchor yourself with.

“Y-yeah,” you breathe brokenly, hands clutching the machine for life and eyes rolling with the fresh waves of pleasure as you can’t help but start to rock back against his face, focusing on the feel of his slick tongue sliding back and forward over your previously neglected clit, “maybe we could make this a… a r-regular work thing.”

He hums into you, breaking away with an obscene wet smack of his lips before nipping at the inside of your thigh playfully.

“You know where to find me, pretty girl. Bend over, give it to me.”

-

tags: @maievdenoir, @javier-pena, @lv7867, @dihra-vesa, @katronautt, @radiowallet, @januarystears, @missminkylove, @beskarprincessjenny, @mswarriorbabe80, @danidrabbles, @amneris21, @eri16, @absurdthirst, @hnt-escape, @acourtofsnakes, @ezrasbirdie, @mstgsmy66, @lovesbiggerthanpride, @coaaster, @sherala007, @greeneyedblondie44, @wyn-n-tonic, @you-got-me-starry-eyed, @shirks-all-responsibilities, @withasideofmeg, @harriedandharassed, @andruxx, @buckybarneshairpullingkink, @spideysimpossiblegirl, @prostitute-robot-from-the-future, @tanzthompson, @mad-girl-without-a-box, @hope-for-the-best-98, @fangirl-316, @christina-loves, @jediknight122, @hallway5, @xoxabs88xox, @nicolethered, @churchill356, @massivecolorspygiant, @just-here-for-the-moment, @gracie7209, @pinkie289, @lavenderluna10, @goodgriefitsawildworld

[charon-cries]

Hiya! Hope this message finds u well :3 I absolutely love your art; found you from insta! Quick question also; I’m not sure if you’ve answered this before, but which brushes do you use for ur digital art? I love the textures they’re so crunchy (endearing)!! Have a lovely day!! :D

hello!! here's a little brush tour ft. this half rendered martin.

also, a great app for ipad artists who really want to dig into texture is art set 4. i swear by it and i've been using it for about two years. none of my more recent art uses it, but that's just because i'm experimenting with my process rn

so here's a list of my most used brushes lately, and there will be links to all of them at the bottom of this post.

the two labeled "custom pencil" are both my own personal modified pencils (both sourced from the 6b pencil) but the narinder pencil and the vanilla 6b pencil are both very similar to them. i use these two for sketching and flat color specifically, and if you do specifically want these two brushes then i'd be happy to upload them somewhere for you to download, but they're not really necessary for texture

i also use G&B halftone brushes sometimes! but i greatly prefer the RSCO sample pack, and i cannot find the link to the G&B brushes no matter how hard i google, and pretty much any halftone brush set will do the same job

and here's what they look like in practice!

(i like to set these halftones to color burn. color burn is my most used blending mode, even for shading)

and then i hit "copy all," paste, and duplicate it. so you should have two layers of just your entire canvas. then import a paper texture

i'm partial to the set i'll link down below, my favorite is #5. you should absolutely check out the rest of the free texture packs on their website if you're wanting to diversify your texture process btw, all of their stuff is fantastic.

to use that texture, your layers should look like this!

on the layer set to the linear burn, i also like to go into the adjustments menu and bump up the brightness until all of the colors are at similar values to what they were before. and the normal layer on top is just to control the intensity/opacity of the paper texture!

after all of that, sometimes i'll go in with brushes like MM rake follow, or more from COFE's weird pencils, on top of all of those layers for finishing touches.

definitely play around with it, try new free brushes all of the time (i heavily recommended subscribing to Manero. they have a lot of free stuff and it's all fantastic) and see what works for you <3

here are the links to the brushes in this post, as well as some extras! some of them are paid and some of them are completely free. + it wasn't mentioned here, but i use the tatyworks linen fabric brush for blending! for any of the paid brushes, i'll try to link some free alternatives

paid brushes:

alternatives to paid brushes:

free brushes:

extra goodies:

[bird-inacage]

Love Sea Episode 9: Lost at Sea before the Finale

Sigh. I had high hopes for this episode, which reached it's apex in the main conflict with Rak's dad (our honorary big bad). But yet again it's at a crucial juncture in the story, where writing and execution have fallen short when it really mattered.

Despite building tension for the past few weeks in service of this moment, it's swiftly deflated with little fuss. I thought the contract-tearing scene would provide a riveting layer of complexity for our characters to navigate. But it's barely a hiccup. The entire pay off we've been hurtling towards just unceremoniously fizzles out.

Here are my observations as to why this episode missed the mark (some of which I hope to dig into when I do a full review of the series).

The 'saviour' plot device. Where a character repeatedly saves the day in service of other characters (regardless of their credentials to do so). This is the role they've boxed Mut in. He swoops in - solves, fixes, pursues, soothes. He's faultless. He's unwavering. He's Rak's hero in shining armour. This isn't fundamentally bad except his capacity is reduced mainly to just that, and the cost is little to no development of his own. I take enormous issue with this because I dearly love Mut. He has great scope for a far more compelling trajectory. We had wonderful insights into his outlook on life in the earlier episodes, which have since taken a noticeable backseat. We are yet to see significant exploration of Mut's struggles, flaws or weaknesses. There appears to be some focus on this in episode 10, but why so little so late?

The women are rendered superfluous. Which isn't helped when we already have a lacklustre GL portrayal. As things go awry - Kwan, Vi and Mook are varying degrees of 'just there'. I would have loved to see the plot utilise the women who know Rak best, to contribute towards bringing Jak down. But the show's priority to aid Mut's heroic efforts, means the women are left with very little to do.

Mut VS Jak. If you compare the two men, Jak is taller and in fairly good shape. Physically, you'd expect more resistance in a fight. When Jak goes down, he barely tries to get up (even when Mut's back is turned). Thus, the outcome of the fight feels unearned, especially if we are to believe this man has violent tendencies that have traumatised his children. (He may not be murderously insane, but still volatile enough to maim his own son). By being so easily overpowered, the takeaway ends up being: 'oh, we needn't have worried'. And this exchange didn't have to be strictly physical either, it could have been psychological. Jak could have taunted Mut like he did in the café, and tried to chip at his resolve. Alternatively, if Rak were the one to overcome his father (in a bid to save Mut), it would show that Rak's love can power through his fear, and he'd gain that lesson through his own agency rather than Mut telling him he should no longer be afraid. (Another symptom of this series is subjugating Rak to a huge degree of passivity).

I'm not sold on Jak's character motivations, based on what we've seen. He's not quite smart or menacing enough to be a calculated sociopath, and he's a shade too conniving for an apathetic loser. If he's as lazy as we've been told, why would he go this far to secure Prin's money, when he's already syphoning finances from Rak and his mother? Couldn't he just sit back and continue to leech with no effort? If his desperation were a result of poor spending, it would at least ground his motive. Or if he's fuelled by the thrill of tormenting his family, we'd need to see mental depravity. Instead, much of Jak's actions feel - dare I say - 'because plot'? (Make your villains more formidable and their eventual downfall will pack more punch).

The few too many plot conveniences. The sillier one being how on earth Rak left the house without anyone noticing? The enormous glass staircase which sits front and centre in an open plan property makes it near impossible to go undetected. Unless he parkoured from his bedroom?

I'm gutted because the show veers towards the more questionable choices at their disposal. The set ups are there. The ideas are there. The parameters are there. It's what they decide to do with them that sadly misfires. This has caused my investment in the story to plummet towards the latter half.

I continue to watch for Fortpeat, and I feel for them because they've worked so hard. There's some lovely acting sprinkled throughout this episode but at this late stage in the series, the plot should be driving things home. Whereas the metaphorical tide keeps moving those goal posts in and out of sight. I hope they can at least round things off on a high note next week.

[hanasnx]

prompt #100 w anakin🤭

prompt: #100

prompt list | rules

minors dni 18+

word count: 0.5k | characters: anakin skywalker x gn!reader

notes: i have not been keeping up with these and i’m sorry ! anakin has been difficult to work with lately but i had fun with this one bcos i was waiting to use this specific scenario on something and it fit so good ugh

warnings: established relationship, smutty content but not actually explicit content, mention of hair long enough to be in face on reader, reader being frisky and touching anakin’s crotch and smutty dialogue

“Negative, I’m closing in on the target. Proceed as planned.” Anakin confirms into the mic of his headpiece, turning the wheel of his ship to the left. Since you’re untethered, you shift, bumping into his knee. Unfortunately, you’re nestled between his legs on the floor in his cockpit. His vessel only seats one, unless you count R2 in the back. You could hardly survive out there though. His cold blue eyes regard you, and soften as soon as they land on you. “How are you fairing down there?” he asks, balancing out the shuttle so as to comfort your seating.

“As well as I can be.” you reply in thinly veiled exasperation, blowing a lock of your hair out of your face.

“I don’t understand why you insisted on coming along.” he sighs, “I assured you that there was no room.”

Turbulence hit, and you brace yourself, pawing his thighs. The nails of your two thumbs digging into the fabric of his pants, and his eyebrows furrow.

“What are you talking about?” you joke, “Plenty of room.” Your gaze drifts to his crotch at eye-level. “Best seat in the house too.” you murmur, immobilized by a devious idea forming in your head. It clouds your judgement— as lustful thoughts often do— and you salivate.

“Did you say something?” he questions, the leather of his gloves noisily gripping hard onto the steering as he maneuvers with care through the atmosphere of this planet.

“Nothing!” you respond innocently, palms sliding up his thighs as you lean forward as if you are hypnotized. One of the reasons you wished to tag along is how desperately you clung onto him this morning. A late night of love-making had rendered you an emotional, needy creature. Begging him for his attention and affection, your lover had to kiss you countlessly to coax you to free him so he could perform his duties. Duties you now consider derailing him from.

“Angel,” his chiding voice cuts through your stupor, “you’re not trying to distract me, are you?” his playful tone betrays how open he is to the way you’re touching him. The tips of your fingers making contact with the fold of flesh where his thighs and pelvis meet. Is it just you or is there a hint of a tent under his robes?

“Of course not,” You press your lips together, gauging his physical reaction carefully. “Unless you want me to.”

Anakin can’t tear his eyes away from the windshield, but that smile you love so much shines through in his scoff. Shaking his head at you. The excitement over the possibility he might actually let you do as you please— shoots a familiar thrill down your spine, straight to your core. You adjust, unconsciously seeking out friction. It exacerbates as you observe him, love-stricken, biting his lower lip.

He drawls, quiet like a secret, “You're still horny? Didn't I fuck you hard enough last night?”

His once flaccid member hardens unmistakably. “You did, and I can’t stop thinking about it.” you exhale, brushing your touch over his sex, tracing the rim of his mushroom-tip. He shifts his hips forward, chasing that pleasure. “That’s the problem.”

That signature, lively grin stretches onto his handsome features as his gaze flickers to you. “Well, what are you waiting for? Go on, reward me for it.”

[sev-on-kamino]

Could you do something for f!reader x tech for prompt 14 or 12? No pressure though. LOVE YOUR WRITING 🩷✨

I can, and I will, friend! Thank you so freakin’ much 🥹🥰 I apologize this took so long 😩, but I hope you love it🥰

Blossoming Romance #14: Looking at their lips as they talk (prompt list here)

Tech x afab!Reader

warnings: prepare yourself for fluff, a lil misunderstanding, followed by more fluff🥰

word count: 772

Tech liked to talk, and you liked to listen. The topic didn’t matter. Linguistics, flora and fauna, the finer points of hyperspace travel. You absorbed it all like a sponge. He would get so excited, yet serious. His eyes lighting up, his hands gesturing about. His voice holding your focus captive.

You loved it all, but lately you were distracted. You’d ask a question, he’d launch into the answer, but instead of focusing on the answer, and adding to your increasing compendium of knowledge, your mind would wander. Your eyes hopelessly drawn to his lips.

Every so often his tongue would dart past his teeth to wet his lips, and it would really take everything you had to pretend you’d heard whatever he’d just said. It was growing more and more difficult not to interrupt him with kisses. You wanted to tug his helmet off, press up against him, and indulge in those lips of his. Unfortunately your split focus had not gone unnoticed.

Tech had been thrilled to finally meet someone who could not only handle his tendency to dig into almost any subject in great detail, but who seemed to genuinely enjoy every moment. Lately though it seemed like your mind was anywhere else. The friendship turned relationship was still new, but according to Tech’s research you shouldn’t have been bored of him already. There was still so much for the two of you to learn about each other.

You still sought him out, still asked him to teach you things. It didn’t make any sense to him when you would inevitably get distracted and he’d lose you for several moments.

“Tech,” you called, as you entered the cockpit holding your holopad. “It’s giving me that error message again. What issue did you say corresponds to code 221B4?”

“Leave it there, and I’ll fix it,” He replied not looking up from the piece of equipment he was working on.

“You don’t have to. I wanted to try myself,” you took the seat next to him, and watched him. “What are you working on?”

“The alluvial dampers,” Tech answered. You waited for him to continue like he always did, but he just kept on working. Your brow furrowed in confusion.

“Those go in the coupling motivator with the artesiatic dampeners, right?” You pushed.

Tech looked up, his lips pursing into a thin line, as he regarded you. Normally recalling information would earn you a smile, and if you were really lucky, he’d press his forehead to yours.

“Yes, that is correct,” he said after several seconds that felt like hours.

“Alright, Tech, what’s going on? Are you upset with me?” You asked utterly confused by his icy behavior.

“I’m merely surprised you remembered given that you no longer bother to pay attention during our conversations.”

Your face warmed up instantly, and you tugged nervously at your earlobe.

“Tech,” you ventured quietly.

“It’s quite alright. Even my brothers don’t listen as attentively as I would like at all times.”

“It’s not that,” you said with a nervous chuckle. “I’ve been wanting to pay attention, I’m just a little distracted is all.”

“Distracted by what?” he asked confused. You cleared your throat and took a breath.

“Distracted by you, Tech,” you said staring down at the floor.

“I’m not following, cyare.”

“It’s…it’s your lips,” You stammered out. He brushed his fingers over his lips, frowning in confusion.

“What about them? Is there something wrong with them?”

“No, not at all. Quite the opposite,” you giggled. “I just keep thinking about kissing you.”

He opened his mouth to reply, but he was rendered speechless by the realization you had simply wished to connect with him physically. It made sense given what he knew of your affectionate nature, and he couldn’t believe he hadn’t realized sooner.

“Well, I apologize for my assumption and subsequent accusations,” He said placing the piece of equipment down, and reaching for you. You took his hand, giggling once more as he tugged you into his lap. You cupped his face with your hands, as you brought your lips to his, satisfaction spreading warmth and comfort through your body.

Tech wrapped his arms around your waist, holding you close. Imparting knowledge to you would always be something he enjoyed, but he decided he would make time for this far more often. The contented hums this simple action elicited were far too enjoyable to miss out on.

You broke the kiss with a sigh, and pressed your forehead to his with a small smile playing on your lips.

“Apology accepted, darling,” You said before leaning in to steal his lips once more

[oddygaul]

Zenless Zone Zero

Well, I’ve been playing the shit out of this game, so fair warning, there will be significant brainrot ahead.

Overall, I really dig it. I’m a huge mark for character action games, and well-done life sims tend to suck me in; Zenless Zone Zero is nailing both those aspects pretty damn well. In fact, it’s nailing them well enough that… how do I put this… it starts to slip into the territory of being A Good Game Generally, rather than just a gacha. And while this is a big accomplishment for ZZZ, this also puts it into direct conversation with other full-price games, resulting in its gacha elements causing more friction than Honkai Star Rail’s ever did*.

*I’ll be comparing this to HSR a lot, because I play way too much of both and they’re made by the same developer. I recognize that it is pretty odd and potentially even problematic to A / B compare them when I could be looking at the game through the lens of, you know, Gaming At Large. But hey, that’s why this is a subjective journal and not a holistic review blog! It is what it is.

So, the aesthetic of this game fuckin rules - it’s like, late 90s to early 2000s VHS-core. The main characters run a Blockbuster, for Christ’s sake. Presentation-wise (and systems-wise, and, hell, music-wise), ZZZ is obviously borrowing a lot from the Persona series, but like… great? I’d love it if more things cribbed that style and made it their own, from the confidant hangouts, to the small but comfy explorable areas, to the dynamic menus with edgy character poses. The character design itself is all superb, all the way down to the crowd NPCs - some the shopkeepers here have cooler designs than the main characters of some other games. Even aside from the designs, ZZZ is doing a lot with lighting and color desaturation that really lends it its own unique vibe. They actually have a cohesive artstyle in here! wild.

The presentation of the story is also killer. Sure, a decent chunk of the conversations are just models lip-flapping at each other - although they at least emote and pose a bit here, unlike the Star Rail dialogue scenes with their demure princess waves. In the main story, though, we get not only a heap of fairly lengthy cutscenes, but also this really cool comic panel-style presentation.

I feel like there was a bit of a trend in the PS3/360 era of games to present a game’s story in this comic panel / storyboard style. I understood the motivation: games increasingly demanded a more involved, consistent storytelling approach, rather than the ‘One big rendered cutscene at the beginning and end’ they used to get away with, and the generation’s increased visual fidelity meant that doing even basic, in-engine cutscenes took a lot more resources to make something half-decent. In Spyro the Dragon on PS1 you could get away with a fun little 15-second gag with a barely animated polygonal yeti or whatever; in the PS3 era, you were going up against tryhards like Metal Gear Solid 4. Amidst this landscape, the pitch of having your illustrators pretty up some storyboards and put them in the game sounds like it’d save a lot of work - plus, consoles were finally outputting a high enough resolution that this sort of flat image wouldn’t be compressed to hell.

Thing is, I always kinda hated that approach. In some cases, I think that’s the popular opinion - I fuckin love Bayonetta, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone defend its weird slideshow cutscenes. Even in games where the execution is perfectly fine, though, it rubbed me the wrong way. I think of Infamous - objectively, the art’s solid and fits the tone of the game, and the motion graphics aim to capture some of the dynamism typical cutscenes would provide. Despite all that, it still feels cheap to me - all of the panning, effects, and graphic imagery feel like they’re trying to polish up something that inherently doesn’t fit.

In ZZZ, though, I’m loving every one I come across. It’s obviously still done for efficiency reasons - there’s already a handful of characters that exist only in these panel scenes, saving the team the effort of having to model and rig them. But the freedom this allows for staging and storytelling is huge; the characters are more expressive here than anywhere else in the game, and we’re able to see situations with huge crowds and new locales much more often than would be possible in typical cinematics. And the illustrations are genuinely good, too - full of character, cool poses and creative compositions/angles.

if everything actually had to be modeled, there's no way we would've gotten Legally Blonde Nicole

Plus, the cutscenes are constant, and boy do I love the animation here. It feels so rare nowadays for a high-budget game to do stylized 3D animation of this ilk. Your biggest budget games are all going for the cinematic look, and pushing realism as much as they can - and while I know an immense amount of work and craft goes into animating something like The Last of Us, boy, I just could not care less about something so lacking in flair*. Even bigger properties that use a stylized artstyle these days, like Breath of the Wild, still tend to lean towards fairly naturalistic animation. Zenless Zone Zero’s cutscenes, on the other hand, spin and stretch motherfuckers around like we’re back on the PS2, are filled with forced perspective, and I am absolutely living for it. It’s not even reserved only for bombastic action scenes, either - we get honest to god character acting-focused conversation cutscenes.

*Seriously, take me back to the Naughty Dog that animated Jak & Daxter. Jak’s hero animation is top tier to this day

Of course, the combat animation slaps too; each of the playable agents is absolutely dripping with character. Even characters whose designs initially left me cold won me over once I saw the amount of care put into their movement and combo strings. It’s honestly shocking to me that this is the same studio that made Genshin Impact, a game I dropped after about 2 hours because of how lifeless all the animation felt*. Unique run cycles for every character, actual non-human designs, the flourishes everyone has when stopping mid-combo to snap them back to idle, the absolute synergistic audiovisual bliss of the parry… it’s really impressive stuff from a young team.

*Same studio in name only, totally different team, I know, but still

Mechanically, I have some mixed feelings about the combat as a whole. Zenless Zone Zero is, without a doubt, aiming to present complexity and depth as a team battler - that is to say, it’s more about team synergy, tag combos, and knowing who to use when, rather than soloing as any particular character. Nonetheless, I really would’ve appreciated individual characters having a bit more depth to their movesets; a jump, a launcher, cancels, anything. As outstanding as all the animation work is, there’s some characters that only have a normal attack string on square and one special attack on triangle. Like, sub-Dynasty Warriors level of complexity here. It’s rough.

This is where ZZZ’s gacha nature gets a bit ugly: so far, more complex kits and skill expression are mostly locked behind rarity, which is kind of scummy. In Star Rail, for the most part, 4-star characters are defined as such due to their numbers: they still have mechanics and complexity, they just aren’t tuned as high as the limited characters. Hell, in some cases they have more complexity. Ruan Mei is an almost incomparably stronger unit than Asta, but Ruan Mei’s play pattern is fucking boring: you use skill every three turns when it runs out. Asta, meanwhile, basically has her own risk & reward minigame that demands more thoughtful SP management.

In ZZZ, on the other hand, the lower-rank characters straight up have less going on in their kits. Nicole has like… one tech, sorta. Anby has one single animation cancel to chain her normal into her special quicker. Lucy’s only skill expression is choosing whether to tap special or hold special. Meanwhile, Zhu Yuan, a limited character, has a normal string that bounces between melee and ranged attacks, can be dodge-canceled at any point in the combo to branch into variations of the string, and a hold-normal attack string that’s completely different and has the same branching dodge-cancel tech.

It’s one thing to lock raw damage and meta viability behind a gacha, but locking the characters that are mechanically more interesting to play straight up sucks. If I hadn’t been lucky enough on the standard banner to pull exactly the two characters I find the most mechanically satisfying, I don’t know that I’d still be playing - and this is the point where ZZZ begs comparison to other, non-live service character action games. Sure, it’s probably not fair to compare a random A-rank’s moveset to Devil May Cry V’s iteration of Dante, a feature-creeped nightmare of a kit 3 console generations in the making. But what about Sengoku Basara Sumeragi, my personal character-action GOAT? By all accounts a mid-budget title, yet it offers 40 full characters chock-full of more unique mechanics and animation cancels than you can shake a stick at.

Fuck, can we please get a new Sengoku Basara? Please? I’m desperate out here. I’ll take anything, y’all.

There’s also the inherent issue that plagues every action RPG (usually deftly avoided by the character action genre), which is the delicate balance of player success depending on the numbers vs actual mechanical skill - a balancing act made even more noticeable due to the gacha genre-standard of characters taking weeks of grinding to level up. This is a topic for another day, but suffice to say, a big part of the reason Honkai Star Rail works for me as a very pretty version of Cookie Clicker is because of the Autoplay option. In Zenless Zone Zero, if you’re not willing to grind out the same mob fight for a week or two, you’re gonna hit an endgame roadblock of doing chip damage to a boss you’ve mechanically mastered because you’re underleveled, and boy, that never feels good.

For all those issues stemming from the gacha, I will say, it’s great that the story missions let you use the characters that are actually supposed to be present for those missions, even if you don’t own them. Aside from how nice it is to have an opportunity to put the whole roster through their paces, it goes a long way for actually getting invested in the story. Honkai Star Rail’s storytelling is a hot mess for many reasons, but it’s always particularly jarring rolling up to a sidequest at like, a local theater troupe with a wanted space criminal, the sitting president of a completely different planet, a ten year old child, and a shirtless cyborg cowboy, none of whom have canonically met each other; ZZZ’s approach sidesteps this issue. The proxy angle even provides a pretty valid diegetic explanation for why agents that don’t know each other might be working together.

Now that we’ve sort of meandered back to the story after talking about animation led us on a long detour - the story is surprisingly solid. In particular, I really appreciate how straightforward the writing is. I don’t know if the issue lies with the original text or the localization, but Star Rail’s dialogue, even in simple missions, tends to be incredibly meandering and overstuffed; ZZZ is a lot better about letting all its characters talk like actual humans. It also helps that the plot so far is a lot more grounded, and spends more time focusing on each faction’s group dynamics rather than the overarching plot. These games live and die by their characters, so leaning into those strengths is a smart move.

Zenless Zone Zero is, unfortunately, fully in line with Hoyo’s weird conservative politics - in particular, 1.0 and 1.1 are absolutely stuffed full of copaganda. With how many safety regulation jokes they made at the construction company, I initially hoped they’d lampoon the police faction a bit, or make a commentary on how comically heavily armed New Eridu’s police force are. In a vacuum, Zhu Yuan shouting combat lines like “Stop resisting!” or “Freeze, hands up!” while blasting someone with her gigantic, ‘JUSTICE’-emblazoned rocket launcher shotgun feels like it ought to be satire. Every time we talk to the officers, though, it’s just line after line about their solemn duty to protect the people of the city, how essential and important they are for the community, and so on and so on.

This wholehearted embrace of the world’s current power structure is something Zenless Zone Zero approaches in nearly the exact same way as Star Rail. In both games, your playable character is someone that’s sort of operating outside the law - in Star Rail, as the maverick organization that is the Astral Express, while in ZZZ you work as an illegal proxy. Despite this setup, any time the protagonists come into contact with a governing body, they are no less than thrilled to help them enforce the will of the law.

In Star Rail, you aid the local governments (one of which is an undemocratic monarchy) in committing massive cover-ups to hide their failures from the populace not once but twice. In ZZZ, you aid the police to an obsequious degree - playing along with them to not arouse suspicion is one thing, but helping them organize a fucking community day on Sixth Street? Fuck that. Hell, said community day is even shown to initially be DOA because none of the local residents trust the police - and you best believe we get two full scenes of the MCs changing the resident’s minds, resulting in them spouting shit about “Oh, it was our fault for judging the police too harshly - they really do have our best interests at heart!”

is it tho

There’s an argument to be made that the N.E.P.S. are a little different, given that they exist in a post-apocalyptic world with monsters popping up every day - and ZZZ’s copaganda is certainly a little less flagrant than something like Spider-Man helping the NYPD install civilian surveillance networks in Insomniac’s Spider-Man. And, sure, perhaps this can help excuse why they post fully armored, rifle-wielding soldiers in the Lumina Square DMV, and provides some justification that their existence is more helpful than the real world’s civilian-murdering property guards.

Thing is, though, at every turn you’re hit with dialogue and situations which make it clear that, no, they’re the normal cops. Every other sidequest seems to involve calling the N.E.P.S. in on somebody or helping with an investigation, and for every time we see them handle ethereal activity, there’s two instances of them being called in for petty property theft or something similarly minor - even the playable character has heaps of dialogue choices threatening to call the police on someone*. Much like Star Rail’s reactionary politics were strangely at odds with the ‘blazing a new path’ ideals of the trailblaze, Zenless Zone Zero’s obsession with the police puts a damper on its underground, counterculture aesthetic.

*Including a case where both options threatened this, leaving me without a non-narc dialogue choice.

illustration by Lv01KOKUEN

And finally… I don’t know where to fit this in, so I guess it just goes in its own little section at the end here. Lots of people, myself included, have touched on the Persona inspirations - and they’re certainly significant. One thing I’m surprised I haven’t seen anyone mention as a huge influence is Yasuhiro Nightow’s Kekkai Sensen / Blood Blockade Battlefront. From its sense of style to its worldbuilding, ZZZ damn near feels like fanfic to me. Hell, it’s right in the name - BBB? ZZZ? And this is on top of the dimensional crossover / big city vibe, the retro fashion, the different factions. Victoria Housekeeping might as well be Libra 2.0 - Von Lycaon is a damn near perfect 50/50 expy of Klaus and Stephen Starphase. And then Belle / Wise, who assist these powerful fighters in a noncombat role just like Leo, also turn out to have some sort of special magical eyes granted to them by untold powers from within the dimensional rift??

I’m here for it, don’t get me wrong - love Nightow. But that can’t be coincidence, right?