#variable tile floor

[alicegalefeeny]

Exterior Burlington Large mountain style brown two-story mixed siding gable roof photo

[captain-hawks]

hajime umemiya x reader

c: fluff, pining, brother’s best friend!hajime

for all that’s changed in your hometown since you moved away to college, some things, it seems, will always stay the same—like your unfortunate affinity for running into hajime umemiya half asleep in your rumpled pajamas in your parents’ kitchen.

it seems impossible, that your older brother’s best friend has somehow grown even more handsome in the three years since you left.

the pictures to be found of him on social media are scarce, his own infrequently-updated feed is nothing more than a showcase of updates on his vegetable garden. but the rare, recent ones you’ve caught from acquaintances—and stared at for far longer than you’ll ever admit—clearly haven’t done him justice.

his mid-20s have done little to change his penchant for pushing his wavy white hair away from his face though, and one rogue lock rests against the prominent scar on his eyebrow. it’s embarrassing, the way your fingers still twitch at your side with the urge to touch it after all this time.

(and it’s even more embarrassing—how long your stupid, lovesick heart has carried a torch for him.)

“fancy seeing you here,” he grins, looking up from where he’s leaning against the counter, scrolling through his phone—likely waiting for your lazy brother to drag himself out of bed.

“hey umemiya,” you chirp, quickly averting your gaze from his blue eyes, heart thundering in your chest as your arm brushes his when you go to open the cabinet beside him.

there’s warmth at your side as he spins, his body nearly caging you in as he casually reaches up to grab the box of cereal your fingers were stretching for. the same kind the two of you always used to sit at the table and eat on mornings like this, when he’d plan something foolish like an early hike with your brother and end up at whims of his terrible sleep schedule.

“hajime,” he says, placing the box down in front of you. running a hand through his hair, he gives you a rueful smile.

your toes curl against the cool floor tiles.

you’ve been on a first-name basis with him for long enough, but it’s always felt too intimate—like the way your lips and tongue move around the syllables will unwittingly serve as a blatant beacon announcing the truth of your pitifully unrequited crush on the man standing next to you.

“hajime,” you repeat softly, heart involuntarily bouncing against your ribcage at the way his eyes crinkle at the corners in response.

the sound of your phone vibrating against the countertop drags your attention away from hajime, but your lips turn downward in annoyance as you see the name that flashes along your screen.

“your brother said you guys broke up,” hajime states casually, eyes darting away from your phone and back to your face after he reads your ex’s name.

“because cheating on me once just wasn’t enough,” you sigh, flicking a button to silence your phone and decline the call. the joys of a long-distance relationship with your lame high school-turned-college boyfriend.

“i wish he would have let me kick his ass after the first time,” hajime crosses his arms, brows furrowing.

warmth unfurls in your gut, and you tilt your head to the side in confusion, “how’d you know about that?”

he scratches the back of his head a bit sheepishly and then shrugs. “i may have asked your brother what was up when you stopped posting pictures with him for a little while last year.”

there are too many variables and factors bouncing around in your sleep-addled brain to find the sum of all these parts, logic slipping through your fingers like the honey-sweet feeling dripping down your spine and coating your nerves.

don’t be ridiculous.

“you could’ve just asked me,” you nudge his foot, feeling a little bold, like you can blame your uncharacteristic forwardness on exhaustion.

he mirrors the motion, then briefly catches the back of your ankle against his. “you changed your number.”

you did, after losing your old phone, though you hadn’t quite felt bold enough to message hajime on social media out of the blue to share your new number. your brother was always the proxy between the two of you, after all.

unlocking your phone, you hand it to him, suppressing the subtle shudder that runs down your spine when his fingers brush across your own. his lips quirk upward as he types, holding your phone out to you a moment later, only to snatch it back, reaching a hand out to pull you beside him.

with one arm wrapped around your shoulders, he finds his way to the instagram app, both of your faces popping up on the screen as he flicks to a story post.

“i just woke up!” you protest, like your legs aren’t threatening to give out under you.

he leans closer to you, the gentle scent of his shampoo leaving you dizzy on the inhale, a lock of his hair tickling your face.

“you look cute like this,” he grins, choking out a laugh when you pinch his side.

he snaps the photo and quickly clicks the post button. then he lets you go just as fast, like you’re not prickling with heat from head to toe, though you still find your shoulder flush with his when you lean back against the counter beside him.

opening the post, you have to stifle the sound that dances eagerly against your closed lips. the picture makes your heart lurch—his eyes are crinkled shut in laughter, his face turned slightly into yours, your smile bright.

he leans into you a little more, looking down at the picture with you, tapping the side of his foot against yours.

“he’s probably checking your posts,” he shrugs, eyes sparkling with mirth and something else you can’t quite identify.

“umeeee,” your brother’s tired voice interrupts you as he slinks into the kitchen, fully dressed—though his t-shirt’s clearly on backward, and his hair looks like he lost a fight with his pillow.

hajime pushes up off of the counter, fingertips skirting against your forearm in the whisper of a touch as he turns back to you before leaving and grins, softly murmuring, “text me sometime.”

[jokeringcutio]

Jealousy - Stepdad William Afton x Male Reader (SMUT)

Summary: When Stepdad William Afton comes home and sees you with a friend, he grows jealous. Warning: This story contains explicit sexual content (SMUT), Stepdad William Afton x Stepson Reader, not beta-read AN: I literally just wrote this now, hope you enjoy anon:

You tapped your pen against the notebook, eyes flitting between the scribbled equations and the clock. Your friend leaned over the table, his voice a hushed whisper laden with urgency.

"Come on, man, think. What's the next step in solving this?" he urged, tapping the paper where a complex algebra problem taunted you both.

"Isolate the variable," you murmured, but your concentration broke when the front door slammed shut with a resonance that seemed to ripple through the house.

"Damn it," you muttered under your breath, feeling the familiar knot of apprehension twist in your gut.

William Afton, your stepdad, loomed in the doorway like a dark omen. His shadow stretched long and ominous across the kitchen tiles, a harbinger of the mood that followed him home from whatever hellish workday he'd endured.

"Evening," he grunted, his voice gravelly, unused. He shrugged off his coat, movements stiff and deliberate, the fabric whispering threats as it slid down his arms.

Your friend's eyes darted toward the man, then back to you, an unspoken question hanging between you. But you knew better than to acknowledge the tension. You kept your focus on your homework, pretending the atmosphere hadn't shifted, pretending the air wasn't now thick with the sour tang of his displeasure.

"Long day at work?" you ventured, a feeble attempt at normalcy. Your stepdad was usually gruff when he got home – had never been soft since your mother’s passing a few years ago. But today his mood was exceptionally sour.

"Every damn day's a long day," William snarled, the sound of his work boots heavy against the floorboards as he trudged closer, his presence filling the room with a pressure that seemed to squeeze your chest.

You watched, heart pounding erratically, as William's eyes narrowed on you, the ghost of a scowl etched deep into his weathered face. He was a relic of a life before, a reminder of things best forgotten, things that lurked in the corner of your mind, clawing for attention.

"Focus on the problem," your friend said, but his voice wavered, betraying his calm facade.

"Already am," you replied, though your gaze never left William. You were caught in his gravitational pull, a moth too close to the flame, anticipation curling hotly in your belly.

His eyes, steel traps snapping shut, fixed on you. William's gaze burned, a silent blaze scorching through the room.

"Studying hard?" His voice dripped with sarcasm, each word a laden weight in the charged air.

"Trying to," you replied, the words sounding hollow even to your own ears.

Your friend shuffled papers, a nervous rustle amidst the growing storm. He must have sensed it – the electric crackle of William's mood, the kind that precedes lightning, dangerous and unpredictable.

"Think I'll head out," he muttered, scooping books into his arms with trembling hands. He was a pretty boy, one of the prettiest in your class. With a youthful blush on his cheeks, long black lashes and plump lips to die for. His chair scraped back, a desperate plea for escape etched into the sound.

"See you," you murmured, your voice steady despite the quickening beat of your heart. Your friend nodded and offered a tight-lipped smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. And then he was gone. His footsteps retreated, a fading echo against the tense silence left in his wake.

The front door closed softly, a definitive click sealing your fate. Alone now, with him, the air seemed to shift, became thicker, laced with something unspoken but palpably present.

William moved, a shadow stretched across the floor, reaching for you with dark tendrils. You sat, still as stone, yet every muscle screamed to flee.

"Good riddance," You heard your stepdad say. There was a smile in his voice – but it was the kind that has teeth, sharp and unforgiving. The smile of a predator who has cornered his prey, and you, frozen in place, could only wait to see what form the pounce will take.

You tilted your chin up, eyes narrowing as you met his glare. Your spine straightened, an act of silent defiance. You knew what was coming; the unspoken challenge hung heavy between you. "Anything wrong, William?"

The title of 'stepdad' was stuck in your throat, a deliberate omission that does not go unnoticed. You did it on purpose, of course. Relieved to see your stepdad hadn’t been ogling your classmate. Relieved that envy radiated from his pores, a thick jealousy drenched with desire.

A desire for you.

Just as you wanted.

Just as you had allowed yourself to indulge in ever since you’d become of age. To tease him, to challenge him, to draw out that desire.

His jaw clenched, the muscles ticking in his cheek. "Don't push me, boy," he warned, the words low, the threat clear and pointed.

"Didn't think I was," you replied, the edge to your voice was like a razor. Sharp, dangerous. You locked your gaze with his, unflinching, daring him to make the next move.

He moved swiftly, his large hand clamping around your arm with bruising intent. Roughly, he dragged you from the chair, your body a mere object to his force. "I've had enough of that clever mouth of yours."

"I could put it to good use, sir…” But your clever protest was crushed under his grip as he bent you over the table, punching the breath from your lungs. His other hand stroked past your shoulders, finding the back of your neck, pressing down hard, a vice of control.

"Time you learned some respect," he growled, his breath hot against your ear. Fear spiked through you, chased by a forbidden thrill. You were trapped, caught in the snare of his power, your body enjoying the struggle until your cock twitched tightly against the inside of your jeans.

"William..." It was a gasp, your voice strained. You were at the mercy of whatever was to come next. As expected, you didn’t have to wait long for your stepfather’s hands to leave your neck and pull your jeans down.

Leather bit into your ass, the sound of the belt cutting through the air amplified in the silent room. You cried out, the pain white-hot and searing, leaving you trembling. Your cock was heavy and leaking pre-cum against the table’s surface. You were grateful you had the table in front of you to rest upon since your legs threatened to give out.

"Teaching... you... a lesson," William grunted between each strike.

You gasped. The pain coiled in your stomach, roiling, insistent, and, to your disbelief, there was an answering heat. It was wrong, you knew it is, but the adrenaline, the edge of danger, sparked something deep within you.

“Think you can just date other boys?” You knew it wasn’t really a question. It was just William showing you what was on his mind, how he’d gotten worked up. His jealousy.

The belt stilled – your ass given a short reprieve. You moaned, suppressing a shiver when a cold liquid was dribbled generously into your hole, your muscles quivering. Goosebumps formed on your skin, you could see them on your bare forearms.

Suddenly, the belt dropped, clattering to the floor. A zipper could be heard as it lowered, and before you could process it, your stepfather’s hard length pressed against your entrance, seeking entry.

"No, William, we can't – "

"Oh, we can," he whispered, and then he was inside you, filling you to the hilt, stretching you in ways you never thought possible. You bit your lip, tasting blood as the sensation overwhelms your senses.

His hands gripped your hips, holding you in place as he thrust, brutal in his intensity. Each time he bottomed out left you gasping, your vision blurring.

"Feel that, boy? This is what happens when you disobey me." Panting, harsh.

You couldn’t form words, reduced to moans and whimpers as your body betrayed you, your cock rubbing painfully tight against the wooden surface of the table. It felt so, so good.

To feel your stepdad deep inside, the head of his cock battering that sweet spot deep inside. He knew just how to stimulate your prostate, drove into you like a pro – as if he hadn’t always had wives before you. As if he was used to making love to young men.

It must have been why you stayed, why you remained in his home after your mom died and you grew old enough to go to campus.

Faster and faster he pushes into you, his breathing labored in your ear, the smell of sweat and leather mixing, intoxicating. "You like it, don't you? You like being under my control."

"No," you breathed, but your voice was unsteady, a fractured denial. You sure as hell did.

Faster Daddy, deeper. But all that escaped you was another sinful moan. Sopping-wet sounds of the lubricant around your stepfather’s cock filled the room, betraying how easily he could slide into your tight hole. Your muscles spasmed, your fingers clawed at the wooden surface of the table – grasping nothing.

With a grunt, he picked up the pace. "Liar," he hissed, his grip on your hips bruising. "Gonna make you come, boy, and you're going to beg for it."

And that was the last straw; the humiliation, the pain, the pleasure, all of it crashed over you like a tidal wave. Just as you were about to come undone, he pulled out, and with a devilish smirk, jerked you off, milking your release onto your stomach and all over the kitchen table.

Gasping, spent, you collapsed onto the table, your heart pounding in your chest, your body aching. You didn’t care having slumped down upon your own cum. All your mind repeated was the feel of your stepdad’s strong fingers around your own shaft as he pushed and pulled, the way his veined hands had worked the veined flesh, the way his thumb had brushed past the slit of your cock the moment you’d started to orgasm, how cum now coated his hand.

"Next time, think twice before you defy me," you heard his low voice like a growl behind you. You heard the wet sopping sounds of his hand on his cock, jerking himself off at a rapid pace before you heard the low grunt and felt the warm release hit your back.

You gasped for air, your body pulsing with every heartbeat, consumed by a heady mix of shame and satisfaction. The lingering ache between your legs was a reminder of how you crave more. So much more of him.

“No other man,” William started, his husky voice cracked, “or boy, may ever be inside of you. Got it? Just me. Only me.”

You lay sprawled across the cold surface of the kitchen table, every heaving breath a testament to the turmoil within. The aftermath clung to your skin – a mixture of sweat and something far more primal. His satisfaction filled the air, thick and suffocating like the summer humidity that sticks to everything it touches.

"Only you," you whispered, the vow etched deep into the marrow of your bones. It was a promise to yourself, a line drawn in the sand of your own will. You would not let anyone else breach your walls, seek solace inside your body. Your clenched fists were symbols of your newfound understanding, knuckles white as the fierce determination took root within you.

You turned to look at your stepdad, who was immaculately dressed once more. The trace of his spent dripped from your inner legs. His pants showed no stain. Everything was on you. You looked debauched, while he looked fatherly. Put together. In full control.

William straightened his tie with slow, deliberate motions, an air of ownership radiating from him. His eyes, dark and fathomless pits, reflected a twisted sense of achievement. They bore into you, heavy with unspoken words. Words that screamed of dominance and possession. He had exerted his control, marked you like you had silently begged for.

"Look at me," his voice commanded, low and gravelly. You resisted, but only momentarily. When your eyes finally met his, you saw the smug curl of his lips, the shadow of a man who reveled in the power he wielded.

"Good boy," he sneered, the condescension in those two words cutting deeper than any physical touch could. Each syllable was a brand upon your spirit, marking you as his in a way society would never condone.

He turned away then, leaving you alone with the echoes of what had transpired. But his departure did nothing to alleviate the weight of his influence. It lingered, a specter haunting the corners of the room, a reminder that he could – and would – return to claim what he considered rightfully his.

And boy… you couldn’t wait.

[saintsroww]

full throttle.

summary. the poor reader is the only one left remaining in her pathetic, ragtag group. cw. solotraveler, tad bit bloodthirsty!ellie x fem!reader, wlw, not really story canon, death, detailed murder/murder spree, blood, wounds, organs, had a relationship that mirrors ellie’s and riley’s in the game, and reunion. wc. 2,020 cr. images from pinterest. notes. sorry for the like… two month's absence lmao. tlou gameplay is rather cool so I wanted to write something about it. The apartments are different. ruhroh. anyway, i had fun writing this. her dead eyes look has me in a lil chokehold. disc. hey now instrumental earbuds recommended

She killed them all, one by one.

People that you were associated with, even if you weren't as torn from their eventual demise, it was how quickly it all went to shit, that startled you. This one specific person of thin stature capable of brutally ending the lives of others in such a short amount of time left you baffled and it undeniably gripped your heart with fear of being her next victim. Her approach was aggressive and oppressive, it was as if you were on her playground, one of many to be unfortunate enough to be the next group to step their toes into her territory.

Each breath you withdrew wavered, and your thoughts were nerve-wracking, it spun at a fast pace equivalent to a revolver's cylinder rotating with no signs of stopping. Dread was a sentiment that has long ago been somewhat dulled through years of experience against the infected, adrenaline and stress were the most prevalent variables.

But this woman– this woman forcibly tugged it back to the surface without even being aware of your existence. 

The small group you were in was struggling to come together, the man who took the reins, even though it was unspoken, did it out of necessity, he did his best to keep the group positive rather than at odds with each other. But considering the eight people in your group and how they are, that man was surely left to rot in the slightest inconvenience when he went out to search for supplies with four other people. No matter how much you asked about what happened, their vague explanation departed an unsettling weight on your chest. 

Internally, you knew that something ill-fated happened that wasn't by the wretched, blood-drenched mouths of the infected– or maybe it was, just that they put him in a horrible position for it to happen. But you'll never know the exact details now, because they're all dead. 

They intended to move where the group lives today, and along the way, in Downtown Seattle, a small coin on the road dimly shined like any other, an opportunity to coerce this young woman to surrender her weapons and backpack to us.

And with nature inherently flourishing across Downtown Seattle over time, this Capitol Hill gas station in particular was no exception to it either. The inside of the gas station had bloodstained, dirty, shattered tiles with the owners of said blood missing their lower half, their organs splayed out onto the flooring, and one other unfortunate soul had their throat brutally slit and chest shanked. 

Some died the regular way, a bullet through their head or throat when they least anticipated it. She hastily retreats to cover every time she'd successfully end someone, it only took a few seconds again for someone to run into her trap once more, that or they were foolishly out in the open, gunned down by her Bolt-Action Rifle or her silencer.

You felt an overwhelming sense of cowardice and uselessness when you hid away after witnessing six out of the eight other people present get slaughtered, exploded, and stabbed with no remorse. You regret deciding to stay with this group, you should have taken off after the leader died weeks ago.

You dreaded to see even an inch of that auburn hair or any sighting of the hand-crafted trap mine premeditatedly planted on the ground. 

You stayed low to the ground, your sweaty palms grasped the grip of the pistol intensely, your shoulders ached, and the two other people remaining in your group were communicating with one another, in search of that one person. You were hidden behind a car on the other side of the street in front of the gas station, peeking your head up to watch the others try and kill her. You felt pity for her when it seemed like it was in your group's favor at the beginning, deciding not to look at the woman to instead look into the cars for anything to pass the time,  you didn't want to do that to her but.. It's never quite fair in the apocalypse.

In your peripheral vision, you see a figure rise from the roof of the building, throwing something down at the last remaining people's feet, detonating immediately on impact. A blinding flash and a loud bang rang through your ears despite not being too close to it. Gargled screams stole your attention, during the few seconds of smoke in the air, you can see that same figure riding the man’s back, impaling their chest and then into the side of their neck, the body falls to the ground with a harsh thud.

The last man standing eventually gained his senses after being disoriented for a brief moment, with no hesitation he turned around and tackled her from behind, the switchblade she had in her left hand rammed into his thigh, the scene was harrowing to watch, his cries of anguish and guttural groans rose in volume when she twisted it before pulling it back out only to repeat the actions. He released her after she jabbed him a third time, before he could move his foot towards her again, she shot him in the forehead, the bullet silenced by the empty plastic water bottle on the muzzle of the pistol.

That brought you out of your blanked-out mind, why were you just watching, frozen in your place? 

Grass lightly crunched beneath your feet as you measured every step you made, silently attempting to retreat from your hiding spot as soon as possible while she was preoccupied looting their corpses. 

Your head was on a swivel, consistently turning to the left to see if she was still searching the bodies up until you made a right turn, going from crouching to standing,  making every reluctant step you make forward have you sweating, the soles of the weight of your shoes on the green grass felt like that was enough to give away your position. You stuck close to the walls of the building. After a small, handful of minutes passed, vacant apartments were what your eyes landed on, your steps grew rushed as the desire to just disappear far away from that woman increased. The pressure you felt started to wane, silence engulfing the atmosphere. Your speed-walking pace went to a jog, heading towards the entrance of the building. 

The edges of your lips twitched as you reached the doors, twisting and pushing the door knobs, opening them up until it was ajar was when the loud pop of a bullet penetrating the wood above you, leaving it splintered and small pieces of it dropped onto your head, your nervous system was shook, fright rushed through your bloodstream, your body moving faster than your thoughts, another shot rang through the area, right where your head was if your movements were delayed by a thread. You slammed the doors shut, shoving your pistol into its holster, your feet shuffled hurriedly to push whatever was nearby onto the entrance. The door knobs jiggled and the doors thudded with what you assumed was the woman striving to barge in.

“I Know you’re in there!” Even through the wood, her winded words were wrapped in a belligerent tone of voice. 

Booking it, you run past the front desk, the walls are caked in dust, and the air smells stale. The sound of hard thuds was washed out by your heartbeat pulsing in your ears, and when you opened the break room, shutting the door behind you, looking for anything that could help you get away. But time was of the essence because footsteps that moved at a slow stride reached your ears through the wooden door.

How the hell did she get in already?

There was nothing of utmost relevance that would aid you in your predicament, and the clock ticked at an unnecessary rate. 

The footsteps outside the break room stopped, your head snapping to glance at the knob that was silently turning, the click of the door unlocking was quiet– that was when you acted without thinking, survival instincts gripped your body, and you swallowed your fear.

As the door was pulled back enough to be ajar, you sprinted and slammed yourself onto the door, knocking the woman on the other side back, her back hitting the wall‐ but you were onto her, trying not to give her a second to regain her composure considering how fast she is in doing so.

Her switchblade was the first thing that met you when you attacked her, her swing was fast enough to slice your cheek. 

“Ugh!” Your head flinched, and the moment of weakness let her fist collide with your stomach, resulting in you being stunned enough to drop to your knees, when you saw the tip of the switchblade shine in your peripheral, aiming for your jugular, the hairs on your neck stood, your hands jutting out to grab her arm, trying to dislodge the switchblade from her crimson-soaked hands, the same hand that punched your stomach grabbed the back of your head by your hair, pulling your head back.

“Stop!” You plead, eyes wide. “You made me–” The only thing you heard from the other young woman was heavy breathing that bordered on growls with how hard she was inhaling and exhaling. And in the midst of your scuffle, pale green eyes met your own.

Her pupils dilate when they find your eyes, they flicker up and down your face, intaking every detail, the constraint she enforced upon you, although indistinctly, was eased. You can tell by her demeanor that if you try doing anything, the perplexity between you will dissipate, and her pitiless efforts of killing you will continue until you are deceased.

Harsh breathing was the only sound that played like a broken record.

Scarlet fluid in a splattered manner appeared to be across the entirety of her face and upper half, built-up dirt underneath her short nails and a pitch black shirt with white text partially veiled by grime and blood, a testament to the carnage she was capable and fully willing to participate in furthermore.

She muttered something incomprehensible under her breath, the agitation in her face faltered as the period of time-stretched. For you, your eyes remained wide, a tiny spark of possibilities imbued you. At first, her words were a tentative whisper, unsure if her thoughts were in fact correct.

“Y/N..?” 

“Yes, yes, Ellie..” You swallow, your throat gently bobbing, the stinging pain on your cheek making the situation feel more substantial. Your answer was what made her hold on to your hair to finally be freed, her hands falling to her sides. Her hunched posture over you slowly withdrew to her fully standing. The atmosphere between you two shifted as relief washed the both of you down akin to a tidal wave whilst you moved to stand up, her green eyes watching over the twitch and pinch of your facial expressions. 

“How… I.. I didn't know that it was you.” She shook her head vaguely, regret overtaking her as she stared at the blood trickling down your cheek, down to the smooth line of your jawline.

Your back met the wall, and your stomach and cheek ached, but your focus was directed to Ellie. Your feelings about seeing her again after so long were a tad bit muddled. She changed, of course—who wouldn't in the apocalypse? But the massacre you witnessed and now realizing that the person behind it was someone you knew left you astonished. Your curiosity about what happened while the two of you were separated certainly picked at you.

Shaking your head, “It's fine, Ellie.” You said, your chest rising and falling in harmony with hers, the corners of your lips jerked upwards a little out of relief that you seemingly get to live to see another day, that and reuniting with someone you loved.

“You did what you had to do.” 

Ellie licked her lips before she tried to act out her thoughts, but when her hand reached out to touch yours she stopped herself.

this ending was bleh, sorry my ladies.. i got bored near the end D:

[murfeelee]

inZOI Beta Release - Thoughts/Rants (Pt1: Build/Buy Mode)

This post will be my positives & negatives about Build/Buy, with a quick bit about the Zoi Creator at the end. Pt2 will cover Live Mode.

Buy/Build Creator

Ok, so I admit that I didn't watch the tutorial video, and I really should've. Cuz the controls drove me effing crazy. I wish there was a keybinding option, so we can change the WASD controls and just let the game feel less clunky to control. I feel like there's way too many button clicks to do things EA managed far easier in TS3 and ESPECIALLY in TS4.

After playing around in BB for 2 days straight I think I've gotten used to the controls & category layout. All in all I've had a great time building my first inZOI lot! ❤️

BUT! I deducted 3 points, cuz of what I effing HATE the most:

VERY limited Copy/Pasting materials/textures/patterns

VERY limited MoveObjects On (the ALT button ain't enough, Krafton!)

Not enough unique options in different BB categories

1: Materials/Textures/Patterns

It's hard AF to use their super-limited Eye-Dropper/Copy-Paste ability. We can't use the same pattern on whatever we want. Instead, it's only for "identical pieces of furniture" [read: the EXACT SAME furniture], which is THE dumbest thing I've ever seen in my life, esp. when there's variables like Gloss/Specular/Vertical/Scale/etc that I really hate having to do over & over & over & over. Whatchu mean I can't copy the texture from a right curtain to a left curtain!? Whatchu mean the rugs can't match the drapes!?

I like that there's a slider and manual text box, but I would also like a +/- button that I could click, for when I want to change the values with a click. Esp, since I'm playing in Windows Mode, and it's hard to finagle the slider with the huge cursor in the way.

It's just REALLY annoying having to manually line up all of these wallpapers so they have the same tiling & vertical values & gloss/specular values & colors; it's driving me up a literal wall.

It's easier when the walls are all connected, cuz then you can use the Paint Room feature so all the connected walls in a room are edited together. But that only works on individual floors, and is MUCH harder to finagle cuz of the way the wall meshes are split into portions based on if there's an interconnecting wall attached to it. It turns 1 wall mesh into 2+ separate meshes if there's an intersecting wall or not.

It's hard to explain, but like--I was only able to make that blue Feature-Wall segment on the wall by literally building two walls on either side of the section I wanted to be blue, and then sledgehammering the intersecting walls when I was done. You can't just color wall tiles individually--let alone copy/paste from one wall to another in a totally different room--which was a problem for me cuz my lot has several Feature-Walls.

Yes, you can select a wall or fence or something, and click the Copy button to copy that wall wholesale, but I really just want an eyedropper/save/click-drag-drop ability to just duplicate a favorite texture on a wall to use on a rug or a car or a shirt, etc. I don't want to have to demolish a whole wall mesh, just to Copy/Paste a wall's texture.

What's amazing is that it really will copy/paste EVERYTHING that's on that wall--including the decor, doors, windows, etc; AND how long the wall mesh is.

It's really cool, but jfc, I just wanna copy/paste the wallpapers. 😭

I also really really LOVE the ability to add Gloss/Specular and import our own textures to everything, it might be my fave Build/Buy feature (that and the search box ofc); but I almost feel like it's somewhere between TS2/TS4's retexture mods and TSRW's Pattern tool, just much smoother & more innovative cuz it's in-game. I've been abusing it like crazy, but Sims 3 CASt is still FAR superior.

Having the ability to at least manually add sims pizazz to the textures is delicious; the Import ability really is the best alternative to TS3's Create a Style feature. Krafton occasionally includes some nice premade pattern/texture variations, but nowhere near enough. Esp. when you have situations like THIS:

That is the ONLY workbench in the game, and not only is it non-recolorable, but it also only had ONE (1) color variation. 🤦DO NOT effing do this, Krafton. Decor's one thing, but functional items should have as much variation as possible, so we can use it more!

(Also, PLEASE more Maximalist/Bohemian/cultural content--I need Persian rugs & runners and lace doilies & tablecloths & faux fur like NOW. 🙏)

2: MoveObjectsOn

And Krafton, whatchu mean there's no Move Objects On cheat, just some [ALT] button that doesn't even work half the time?!

Doors & stairs are OBVS the worst offenders, but there's plenty of other instances I noticed, too. This game is WAY too finicky--ALT sometimes works fine, but I've been holding my breath in suspense the whole time, not knowing when it'll work or not.

BTW, spiral stairs and elevators need to happen ASAP. This is an ultra-modern world; ain't no way we shouldn't have elevators, when they're in the freaking trailer.

It KILLS me that we can't put curtains over a door; not even the shimmery Silver Part Curtain. You're killing my hippie-beaded + sheer curtain dreams, Krafton, istg.

And why can't we put chairs on either side of a dining table? (Why are there no long 3-tile dining tables?) And why can't I rotate cushions on my sofas?

Why can't I put a 3x3 rug on top of a 3x3 wood panel deck?

Scratch that--you can't put ANY rugs on the panel decks.

Why do I have to FIGHT this game to place everything?! 😩

I also dislike how the push/pull effect on walls actually DUPLICATES an extra wall, rather than just MOVING the wall to the new location. Making you have to sledgehammer the old wall, which again, just makes us have to use extra clicks for no reason.

It's also hard to see WHERE the new wall will be, with the light blue hologram/x-ray-like wall effect they use. I liked how EA had the bright neon green, cuz it just stands out better, rather than blending into the already light-blueish surroundings.

Ofc I'll get used to it the more I use it, but I just don't like it; it feels like guesswork/trial & error; and it wastes time I REALLY don't have.

I LOVE this push/pull effect though:

Apparently it only works for stairs though--it's not available for doors/arches, platforms, chairs, tables, etc, which sucks, cuz Paralives can do it on darn near everything, and I'm so jealous.

GOD I can't wait for Paralives. I still think it'll be the improvement to TS4's Build/Buy mode that I really want. This ain't it, chief. I was far too frustrated tryna make the home I wanted--which is a big no-no for me as a builder.

3: Object Variety/Variations

Krafton. Why in the HELL is there a JAIL CELL door? 🤨

There are ONLY 4 double doors available ffs (and only ONE 1-tile arch what is going on), and in your infinite wisdom, your devs were like aaahhhhh yes, in this really cutesy game full of kitty cats and glitter-butterflies, the one thing they'll need is CARCERAL architecture~! Genius. 🤦

I have no idea why they put trees in Outdoors (Buy Mode) and not in Exterior (Build Mode). I assumed we just didn't have trees yet. Thank god for the Search box, cuz this was Where's Waldo for sure. And we have GROWING Plants that grow over time too!?

Trust and believe I immediately selected the Bonsai plant, LOL.

But there are nowhere near enough tall potted plants--I hate that the tallest plant barely reaches door-height, and it's sparse AF, when I just want lush bursts of greenery in those lonely corners:

And FAR more potted plants for surfaces--why can't I put these tiny AF plants on a table surface? Why would I ever want a bouquet of roses on the floor? 🤨 Again, MOO > ALT every time.

Also, we DEFINITELY need a Collection file ability, or a Favorites ability, or something to tag items we want to save and remember to use. And the Household Items storage feature TS3 has, where we can store away objects we own, but don't want to place on our lot. Right now I'm just cramming the extra objects on an empty floor. (Speaking of--basements & attics: we need that ASAP.)

I am NOT a fan of the modern minimalist style of the Build/Buy objects. Esp. esp. when there's so few options.

And then Krafton SWIFTLY told me to STFU & hold their beer.

The Craft/Create Custom Furniture tool is cool! It's pretty limited though--I really wanted wall lights but it seems you can only make floor/table ones; and they REALLY need more options for the beds cuz there really isn't anything there. But I made a handful of pretty custom objects that look amazing, this feature is just wow, modular furniture taken to a whole new level, EA could never.

Functional vacuums & brooms & mops in the basegame without wasting money on broken Bust the Dust Kits, EA would NEVER!

There's also other cute things, like rail guards on windows.

You can actually draw curtains open & closed, which is incredible...but I'd like to be able to SEE the curtains, and color them and stuff, not just see the frikkin curtain rod.

4: Random AF Extra Bits

I like that we can actually toggle the Night/Day setting for Build/Buy, to see exactly what our lots will look like at different times of the day.

I also love that with lighting/lamps, changing the lightbulb color is what changes the color of the light itself; which is much easier than in TS3's pie menu. The only issue is that it's harder to tell that the lightbulb does anything unless you toggle the Night setting, to see the colors better; I gasped out loud when I changed the time and realized that lightbulb colors actually MATTER at night.

Apparently there's no terrain tools in the Beta--no ponds, pools, etc--but we DO see the icons for them, so obvs it must be a feature coming eventually.

I wish it was possible to change the Setting Options in Build Mode. I didn't realize that the "Background Noise" sound setting was actually the in-game music, like wtf? So I was stuck playing the game with inZOI's music looping in my ear for HOURS before I just Googled how to shut it off. Annoying, but small enough to be super irritating.

TL;DR: Build Buy 7/10

So yeah, this is just all of my initial impressions just mucking around in Build/Buy Mode; I haven't even PLAYED the frikkin game yet or tested anything in Live Mode. 🤦That'll be Part 2.

But so far I'm...satisfied. 7/10!

I managed to recreate Magnus Bane's Penthouse pretty darn close to how I got it in TS3 (with all the EPs & Store Content, and an effton of 3rd Party CC & mods). So inZOI's base game Beta being able to get me most of the way there all on its own is actually REALLY commendable, they definitely impressed me. 👏👍

But there's just far too much Krafton really skimmed on, that irritates the absolute mess out of me.

But I also have a gut feeling that Live Mode is gonna be CRAZY--I can't wait to play with the functional items.

Zoi Creator

The Zoi creator is pretty much the same from the Demo (x x), which is actually frustrating. Where are the improvements? 🤔 There are obvs more options, and I like the clothes categories (School, Party, etc), but I already said that I wasn't a fan of the super modern aesthetic for the clothes, and it just feels like more of the same. The shoes are still my least favorite, hella boring. And we still can't layer accessories & makeup, or have tattoos (the limited face/neck options are hidden away why?). Why can zois only wear 1 ring on 1 hand? This is 2025, and you're still making the same mistakes TS3 made 16 years ago, when TS4 at least lets you wear accs on both hands. I want my zois BLINGED UP. 😩

(Yes, my graphics settings are all on Low; I can't afford anther new pc if inZOI makes this one internally combust, stfu.)

[taemcains]

↬shutdown

ANHEALANE + bubble bath

rating: t, suggestive content

tags: @rc-catalog

song: moonbyul - shutdown↻

It takes Lane's top climbing halfway off her torso for Anhea to finally admit to not knowing what exactly a bubble bath entails.

Hoping her gloating is wiped clean by the folds of dusty cloth she pulls over and off her, Lane blinks at her to fool innocence. The angel, standing backlit and dressed by the darkness, but also in her regular attire unfortunately, looks at her with an imperious brow furrowed, chin tipped up, in a pose Lane was starting to recognize as superiority masking curiosity.

The bath bomb they'd found and carefully displaced like a jenga block among the contents of Portia's wide bathroom shelves glitters and blinks from its seat at the edge of the bathtub, a pinprick of light amidst navy blue shadows. Anhea eyes both it and her with vague suspicion as she picks it up, a gaze that washes over in heat at the sight of Lane half bare, stepping around shallow pools of death-cold water on the tiled floor in a bra and loose pants, subtle restraint in her eyes warming her all over.

‘It's as it sounds,’ she says, and waits until Anhea makes her way over to the bathtub with a sigh. She drops it in, and they watch as it fizzes pink and blue, and then serenly swim to the sides in muted blue, cowed under the shade of New York's eternal night. Anhea peers in interest until the last lazy ripple, and then turns away at Lane's satisfied stare. ‘How childish.’

She can't pinpoint when exactly it'd started. Somewhere between protecting her from what stalked the nights in Rotkov, and quiet dinnertime talk, and long, late night insomnia-fueled conversations, she'd wormed her way into Lane's conscious, made herself the centre and sun of it. She was the only one who didn't rest their expectations upon her shoulders, didn't want her warmer or colder but just wanted her.

The silence when she's alone by herself was beginning to feel less and less comfortable, more and more an itching for the presence of white wings, and a scent sweet and heady, like the secretly pleased smiles she allowed so rarely.

Feeling her eyes on her back, Lane quickly unhooks her bra, slides her pants and underwear off her hips, and just as hastily slips into the unforgiving cold of old rain turned bathwater. Anhea left no doubt in her wanting, but this unknown and this variable, she was apprehensive to plunge headlong into. The freezing shock of the water mercifully jolts every other thought out of her head.

‘Cold?’ Anhea asks, watching her closely.

She shoots her a look.

‘Fine, it's obvious.’ She rakes a hand through the blonde wisps escaping her ponytail, the ends in a way Lane knows is a nervous habit, before loosening it entirely and releasing it from its tight grip. ‘I should be able to help.’

Lane almost jolts, then catches herself. ‘Since when do you help without gaining something in return?’ she asks, trying to inject composure into her voice shaky from both the cold and a sudden bolt of heat down her center.

Anhea throws her a long glance, and then turns back to her clothes. ‘I don't.’

Lane watches with her heart knocking once in her chest, twice in her throat, as her fingers strain for her back.

‘Do you need help?’ she asks, words finding her throat too dry to grasp onto and climb out her mouth.

Anhea slides her a look. Having determined something incomprehensible to Lane, her mouth tilts up the barest inch. ‘I can do it on my own.’

Hugging her knees to her chest, Lane watches as her fingers meet behind her back, wrestling with the clasp before it gives in. The harness comes apart under her hands and clatters to the floor. The buzz of a zipper tugged down… her shirt falls away.

Lane stares. She has been staring, for the amount of time it takes to forget there was an amount of time, but she looks just a little different bare, without compression by her tight fitting tops. Her shoulders are slightly broader than she imagined, and imagine she did, and the faint grooves down her stomach set off an impulse she could barely force herself into giving into only in the dark of her room. When her arms rise and then lower to take off her pants, she can see her muscles flex in tune.

She keeps her eyes on her feet as she makes her way over to the tub. She could chain up her desire, but it was impossible to not hear its rattling when Anhea smoothly steps in, and drapes herself over Lane, forcing her to extend her legs to accommodate her body and lean back to accommodate her wings.

She loosens a quivering breath that has no space to exit but the junction of her neck. Anhea shivers, and it gives Lane the courage to timidly put her arm around her waist underwater.

She remembers the haunting wound too late. Anhea winces quietly, but it’s sharp as a whip in the quiet lapping of water over the edges of the bathtub, and sharper still in the ears of Lane, who attuned herself to every minute shift of her body.

‘I’m sorry, did I-’

‘No.’ Not cold, but not warm either.

Helpless to and against her pain, she can do nothing but hold her fragile as a baby bird until she sinks down comfortably into the cage of her arms, her weight making Lane shut her eyes in relief and an odd sense of peace.

She's still too scared to move, so Anhea does it for her, slowly turning back to face her, their fronts brushing together teasingly.

Loose blonde locks trails waves over her shoulders. So close, her eyes are clearer than ever. Lane realizes this is the first time she's seen her with her hair down, and with a faint jolt of something that hurt too sweet to be pain, she thinks she looks so young. Innocent.

Anhea’s eyes flit and flicker to every feature on her face, and Lane follows her example, both of them grasping onto this opportunity for closeness, and when Lane’s reach her lips, they stretch into a full smile.

‘Warm now?’

She drags her gaze back to her eyes with considerable effort. There was the playful, challenging glint in the pale green of her eyes, the upward tilt of her deep pink lips twinning it, the curve of her waist warm against the close-held coldness of water, and then nothing else, for a very long time.

[toyybox]

Spiderwebs #48: Rust

Masterlist

content: bludgeoning, gore, murder

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

It was so cold. All over, Jackie felt numb. His head was ringing. It was a high-pitched whine, like the keening of a machine. He was aware, vaguely, of a voice, of rushing water, but it was all so far away. All the world was one step removed. It was a strange dream, but any dream was welcome. Any escape from reality, from concrete walls and floors.

Water splashed over his face. He spluttered and gasped. His eyes snapped open.

White ceramic and the scent of citrus, the light bright enough to make him squint—he recognized this place. It was the inside of Heather’s bathroom. That meant…

I’m out. Out of the basement. He could have wept at that thought. Oh God. Oh my God… 

“Finally. You’re awake. Stop gaping like a fish and look at me.”

And he would recognize that curt, cold tone anywhere. Heather! Although terror ran incessant claws up his insides, he was happy to see her. Unreasonably happy, to the point his chest ached. He could have died at that sight. Perhaps he would. She didn’t seem too pleased.

He looked up at Heather, to where she was standing.

“Sit up,” she said.

With another shiver, he sat up. Water dripped down his sleeves—water? He was in the bathtub. What a strange sort of baptism. He was waist-deep in freezing water. The shower curtain hung down at his left, creased up on the metal rod, the sheets plastic and pale gray. 

 “What—” He shifted, which made the water splash. “Why are we here?”

“You'll see.” She then patted his damp, dripping hair. “Sit tight. Don’t move. Understood?”

He nodded. 

"Good." She walked away, out the bathroom door. It shut behind her. Silence followed.

Jackie took this moment to study his surroundings. The tap was still running. He shut it off, though it took a great deal of effort. By now, the tub was just over half-full. 

Cold water. To wake me up, I guess. Jackie had fainted, hadn’t he? That was the last thing he remembered: his vision going white, and the pale certainty that he would pay for his exhaustion. 

Above him, he saw the shower head. In front of him, to the right, he saw the sink and cabinet-mirror. And so much light. Once, he believed nothing could replace sunshine in his heart, but now he was grateful for any method of sight. It was so dark in the basement. The lights had quickly burnt out. For the first time in weeks, even months, he could see his hands. His palms, his arms. The curls falling over his eyes. The damp gray-white of his shirt. Colors and shapes. 

The door opened with a whine. He lifted his head. 

Before he saw the rusty length of pipe, he heard the sound of grating metal. It dragged against the smooth floor. Scraping against it. He shivered again. 

Heather stood above him, poised with the pipe. “Get ready.”

He could not take his eyes off the rusting metal. His voice was painfully small. “Ready? For what?”

She just reared the pipe back. Up above her head. Aimed at him.

Even in his current state, Jackie knew that it was a lost cause. She had lost it. It, that undefinable variable that kept everyone glued together. His brief defiance had been the last straw—or this was simply an inevitable thing running its course, a spinning spool of thread well on its way to unraveling.

But none of those pretty words would save Jackie now. He stared, past the pipe, at the tiles behind it. There was a design, fleur-de-lis and ferns in a blue accent. He tried to focus on that instead. It would all be over soon. 

She took a step forward.

He held his breath.

“Jackie?”

He didn’t reply. Just focused on his breathing, on the blue design, anything but Heather.

“Look up,” she said. 

And there—just above his head, just barely above him—there was a sharp crack, as the pipe slammed down on the wall. A sound louder than any gun, that split the air in half. 

Jackie flinched. Now his stare was on the pipe. He couldn’t help it. Right above him, copper-red splotches on silver. There was a crack in the wall, a starburst across the ceramic. That could have been his skull. He was shaking badly.

“I should kill you,” Heather said, in between heavy breaths. “I should. I should give you a proper punishment. Something you'll remember."

The pipe lifted, then slammed down, fracturing another tile. The sound of crashing metal was closer than before. A shard of ceramic fell into the water. Jackie shut his eyes and let his nerves wind down, trying to get his heart to stop stuttering, keeping as still as he could. He felt such a wild, sharp fear that it was nearly enough to make him faint again.

"I should do it. Maybe I will. Maybe." There was a long pause. Her breathing slowed, slightly. "I suppose it doesn't matter. Right, Jackie? I know you still don't understand what I'm telling you. You never learn."

The pipe didn't land again. Carefully, he opened his eyes, and saw it motionless by Heather's side.

"I'm giving you another chance," she said. "We can move on and pretend none of this ever happened.”

He nodded quickly.

“Fine. That's enough. Now—”

They both looked towards the door. A cane tapped against the tiles.

Even Heather seemed to be caught off-guard.  “Callaghan?”

Yes, it was professor Callaghan—or doctor Callaghan, if you wanted to be perfectly accurate—in the doorway, still professionally dressed. There was an air of remarkable calmness about him. His expression was simply bewildered, nothing more. 

“Miss Rodriguez,” said the professor with pleasant serenity, as if she wasn’t holding a heavy metal pipe. “Are you alright? You haven’t answered my calls—or anyone’s calls, in fact—for several months. It was good that you left that window open. I was starting to think that something unfortunate had happened.”

“N—no, I'm fine, professor." Her expression was blank, however.

Callaghan frowned, this time. “Miss Rodriguez, I must insist you put that…” He glanced at the pipe and finally noticed it was there. “That piece of metal down. There are more dignified methods, I’m sure.”

“Methods? For what?”

He scrutinized Jackie, who stared back. “I assume you wish to dispose of him?”

“Who? Jackie?” Her voice was more than just startled. Urgency was seeping into it. “No, it’s not like that at all.”

“Miss Rodri—”

“Please. Just leave.”

“Heather, it’s alright. I’m here to help you. You’re in ill health. Sit down. And if this is really such a pressing matter, I would recommend using a firearm, if not the anesthetic we discussed. I don’t understand how this is safe or hygienic.”

She raised the pipe once more. “A gun? That’s it?” 

Callaghan nodded.

Jackie tensed. He pulled himself further away, sinking deeper into the water. 

Heather reared her weapon.

Then the pipe swung in the other direction, away from Jackie. The sound of metal against flesh split the air.

Professor Callaghan dropped to the ground. His body thudded against the tiles. It was a low, soft sound, heavy and damp on top of the solidly smooth floor. It was an unnatural sound. It didn’t feel right. Something snapped—he heard it, quietly, like a twig, like cartilage.

They waited. The seconds dragged on. The professor did not move. 

“You killed him,” Jackie whispered.

“Quiet.” She stepped back. “He’s not dead.”

No, he was definitely dead. The professor’s skull was cleaved in two. There was a great crater of split-cherry red in between. The one eye that wasn’t crushed to jelly looked sightlessly to the floor. His jaw hung limp and open. There was blood everywhere. On the ground, on the pipe, splattered on her face, smeared against the tub’s edge. Dripping down from Heather’s hands in thick clumps. 

Jackie whimpered, his stare fixed on the professor, and sank even deeper into the bathtub. 

It happened so quickly. Callaghan’s shoulder was flush to the tub, his mangled head just inches away. There was a wet mass that might have been his brain. Some of it had splattered against the tiles, pink and soft. 

Heather dropped the pipe. It banged on the floor, then rolled under a cabinet, leaving a spotted trail. Although the sound gave Jackie a start, the professor did not react to it. Perhaps Heather was hoping he would.

Still, she waited a few more minutes before turning away from his body, her eyes vacant all the while.

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Taglist:

@theelvishcowgirl @lthrboy @whumpy-wyrms

@yassifiedinformation @creppersfunpalooza

@vidawhump @dont-look-me-in-the-eye @inkwell-and-dagger

[zmediaoutlet]

The rot under his skin doesn't feel like rot. Pressing down doesn't make his skin sag and crumple, like a bruised pear, as it's been—other times, when the world felt like it was going to end. Or had ended. Hard to separate the two, sometimes.

Sam presses his head back against the cool tile wall, trying to center. He's not anywhere but here: a hospital bathroom, bleach and lemon-scent sanitizer, emergency lights glowing cool fluorescent white. The rabid's screaming behind two locked doors but that's been going on for an hour now and he can put it aside. Focus on the problem to find a solution. Over a life of messing things up this is actually something he's practiced at. Regardless of what follows.

The rot. Maybe not rot. Maybe something growing instead, a multiplying virus, a fungus spreading. There's heat in the thickening black veins under the skin and what feels like a fever crawling dizzy from the back of his skull and maybe that's where the rage comes from, too, whatever chaotic demand—for someone else to feel like this, for it not to feel as lonely as it does, in an echoing white room with screams for company. Sam feels carefully along the raised darkness in his chest, testing for that slippery nebulous line between thought and feeling and instinct. Trying to decide: does he want what he wants because of what's in him by nature, or from what has been trained into him, or because of some insidious growing blackness that's wrapped under and around his heart, infecting everything he touches with the wrongness of it. Familiar thought-pattern; familiar even with the dizzy unreality of fever. This is another thing he's practiced at.

Buzzing. His phone. D, glowing under his thumb, and he thinks: does he want him here because—? Or because—?

Man, you doing okay? "Dude, don't worry about me," Sam says. A snort. Have you met me? Pissy but Sam feels something settle in his chest, stretching his boots out on the tile floor, closing his eyes. Even with how screwed up it's been—his brother, free, being exactly as overbearing and rough-edged and careful as Sam had prayed for him to be, on his knees, begging help from whatever far-flung corner of the universe it might come. When it was as bad as it got and he thought maybe he'd never get that tone again.

Dude, tell me you aren't getting chewed on by darkness-zombies, Dean says. Sam smiles, tipping his head against the wall. Cool on his temple. "You get the girl safe?" A sigh. You're bad at changing the subject, but then—We're nearly there. Some kind of diaper blow-out emergency. Haven't seen sign of black fog, or—

He talks. Sam listens, his fingertips pressing against the thickest part of the growing under his skin. His throat feels thick and his head hurts and his chest feels—some way that's hard to pin down, although he'll try later, writing notes, making sure he's quantified the variables. In the meantime there's Dean's voice, nattering about the drive and worrying about the circumstances and wondering what the hell's taking the girl so long in the bathroom, it's always like this, and he should know, huh, considering the big ol' girl he got saddled with for a little brother, and Sam can see him leaned up against the side of the car in the sunlight with that furrow between his eyebrows that means he's worrying about twenty different things but knowing that he, Sam, is about five of them at various points on the list, and he wants—wants Dean here, on the tile floor under the emergency light with the smell of bleach around and wants Dean's skin bared under his and wants Dean's eyes wide open on his and wants to take that bare stretch of his forearm where that awful seared mark is finally gone and wants to—sink his teeth in, wants to have him, wants to pin him in one place and get his breath hot and shaking against Sam's own mouth and wants to make him—what?

Oh, here she is, Dean says. Okay. So—it's like a half hour more to her grandma's, and then flipping a U-ey and coming right back for you, huh? Couple hours, tops, you'll be seeing this handsome mug.

"Can't wait," Sam says, dry, and hears a brief hah before the line goes dead.

He holds the phone against his collarbone, breathing in the quiet after. Imagines darkness, spreading from the tender inside of Dean's elbow, filling him up inside. His eyes fever-bright, his hands clawing. What's in him a vile, awful thing. All because of Sam.

Thirty seconds, imagining. Feeling—it doesn't matter how he's feeling. Then he draws his heels in and stands up, forcing himself not to sway by gripping the sink so hard a knuckle pops. When he opens the bathroom door the rabid's screaming doubles in volume. There's still a chance to fix what can be fixed. Whatever else has to take a number, but if Sam's honest—some things he doesn't want to be fixed. He wouldn't recognize them, if they were.

[definitely-mothman]

Assurance of Quality

Another one shot for JeiazuJune! Prompt: Obsession.

Summary: As Vice Housewarden, Jade’s routine each morning is simple and to-the-dot. On a particular morning, an unforeseen variable interrupts this routine.

Full Fic Beneath Read More~

As Vice Housewarden, Jade’s wake-up period was scheduled at 4:30, an hour before anyone else would be awake, Housewarden included. The routine was well established, and served to benefit all parties involved. This hour empty period allowed time to get dressed (mostly in the hall bathroom, lest Floyd be roused) and begin putting together Azul’s morning tea.

As assistant manager, this hour empty period allowed for the opening procedures of the Mostro Lounge; taking chairs off of the tables and arranging them properly, ensuring the drink counter was stocked adequately, flipping on the lights and air conditioner. Any remaining time prior to 5:30 following these procedures would be spent rearranging the desk in the VIP Lounge. This was nothing extreme- moving things around too much would ruin whatever bizarre organization system Azul had set up beforehand. But generally, he’d just attempt to make the paper stacks more neat and presentable prior to the Lounge’s opening in the afternoon, and he only really had the quiet to attempt this in the early morning.

He was going about this typical routine, finishing earlier than usual- it was only about 5am, so he had much more time to do this than normal. But, as he unlocked the VIP Lounge, his foot caught on a texture wholly different from the tile. Looking down, it seemed to be a piece of paper. He took it up off of on the floor, carrying it into the lounge with him. Upon bending down to pick it up, it was clear it was an envelope, with which an attempt had been made to slip it under the door into the VIP Lounge.

On the blank side, Azul’s name was written in full with what seemed to be a felt pen (calligraphy pen? It was pretty amateur if so). Flipping it over, the envelope’s flap was help shut with a little heart sticker. The glitter on it wore off a little bit on Jade’s gloves.

Ugh…disgusting.

He took up the envelope in both hands, prepared to rip it, when the idea struck him. It surely couldn’t hurt to open it- although the contents might hurt to read. But that would be dealt with in time. Slipping a letter opened from Azul’s desk, he slit open the envelope, gently setting the blade back and pushing it straight with his fingertips.

Surely enough, the envelope contained a letter, written with that same ugly felt pen. The contents were…expected, but still nauseating to glance over. These flowery declarations of affection, the rambling language used, messing handwriting, not to mention the choice of paper and pen…

It was not addressed to him, but he felt offended all the same. Such clumsy wording, the lack of confidence to deliver this upfront- the lack of prior research done was downright insulting. The thought of sending such a formal letter to Azul, with such sensitive content, and to both not write in black for legibility, nor use a wax seal as a symbol of formality…it was clear this person was worse than a fool. They were fully ignorant of who it was they supposedly loved.

In the second left drawer of the desk, schedules were typically kept for the lounge, sorted by day. Of course, Azul didn’t typically lock this drawer, given it didn’t hold anything particularly sensitive. He flipped through the schedules, eventually finding that name which matched the one written at the letter’s bottom.

Hah- Another Octanivelle student. And how fortunate. They would be under his management in the following days. It always made him smile to see how luck frowned upon the stupid.

He quickly made a note of the student’s name, saving it for reference later. Azul had plenty of personal records for those who worked in the lounge, and especially for Octanivelle’s own students…and Jade himself had done much legwork in the acquisition of this information. But what to do with all of it..? Of course, he would pull everything there was to find and begin setting up…something. But what something would that be? What kind of punishment was warranted by this pathetic attempt at a confession?

Of course, he’d have to debate that with himself. As lovely as it would be to discuss the specifics with Azul and have a second pair of hands in everything, it would be better for him to never know the letter existed in the first place. Considering the difference in status as well…such a confession was completely worthless to him. Worthless people who approach the powerful like this can only serve to steal from them and abandon them to die.

Yes, Jade reasoned this with himself. To have the letter never exist would be an assurance of safety. Just as his parents had assured his safety in a similar way. If he wasn’t able to do it back then with Savannaclaw, he could at least do it now within his own dorm.

Taking his magic pen from his jacket, he knelt over the small bin beside the desk. A small flame lit at the edge of the letter, slowly growing to envelop it. The letters which curled into blackened ash held the same meaning to him. Dirt.

Even when the whole letter had curled into a blacked ball of soot, he hadn’t let go of the top corner, blowing out the flame. Such a thing as this should not remain in the VIP lounge where Azul could see it. This letter, after all, never existed in the first place.

An idea struck him, and a smile began to creep on his face as he returned to stand. He began moving back towards his own dorm- the blackened paper in his clenched hand. He had a small cardboard compost box about the size of a ring container. The ugly wad should fit in it, along with something else.

Perhaps a letter of his own? Or would that lessen the impact of the gift? He would have to draft that out and consider it. Wrapped nicely with paper, and tied with a delicate red ribbon. A far more beautiful presentation than the burnt disappointment he held in his fist. The sort of perfect exterior that one should consider when approaching the Housewarden.

But he would have plenty of time to consider this plan of action. As for now, it was approximately 5:15 in the morning. Besides hiding the disgrace, there was a lavender blend he needed to start heating. After pouring, it would need to cool for about 4-5 minutes for a warm but not scalding temperature. He’d have to retrieve the cups from the back of the cupboard, and the small tray kept in the lower side of the pantry- along with arranging everything.

By the time he would be done with it, it’d be just about 5:27. Azul’s alarm was typically set slightly before 5:30 as to allow a few minutes to rouse from sleep (and recover from the startling effect of his alarm).

And then, on the dot, he would be there to wake his Housewarden, as he always had.

What of the letter? The student? They were not so devoted as this- absolutely worthless. But that hardly mattered now.

The student would be just as the letter was; if not burnt past recognizability, it would be crushed to dust beneath his hand, it’s remnants swallowed whole.

• • •

Hope you guys enjoyed-! Reblogs and comments always appreciated!

[deusvervemakesgames]

Project RBH Devlog 0060

We’re dangerously close to being done laying the game’s groundwork and moving on to simply making content for the game. I’m hoping that I might be able to start doing youtube video DevLogs once that happens.

Here’s the rundown on what I got done last week. It’s a lot.

First up was the health drop that enemies rarely do. The placeholder heart was fine, but, well, it was placeholder. Here’s the new one.

Next, there was a single frame in the new door animation that wasn’t quite right, and I could see it mid-animation. So I fixed that, too.

And then I moved on to something I hadn’t realized that I hadn’t done. There was still an enemy left to redesign. The enemy that fires bullets in a circle. Previously it was a static image of a skull-like design. I changed it up to better distinguish itself as something that moves, and in the process discovered that I have so much more I can do within the geometric enemy design motif I’ve established. Look at this guy! I think it might be my favorite.

I was also getting sick of the upgrade selection screen. White rectangles over a black background. Boring. So I reused the Nexus background as that felt fitting for something that benefits the player and swapped out those rectangles for an actual sprite. Hovering over them still tints them in a certain way that I’m not 100% sold on but it works for now.

Next up was a problem I had in putting the player in the level. I don’t think I ever mentioned this but the quick and dirty solution I had to possibly spawning inside of an object was to keep shifting the spawn-in location to the right. Which could shunt the player outside the level. Fixing that wasn’t hard; I’d already done it for the door object and simply reused that code. It checks the spawn location to see if it overlaps with an obstacle and if so, randomly picks a direction and a distance and checks there instead. Repeat until success.

With that done, I spruced up the rooms in the generator so that they’d stop being totally empty open boxes. I still need some set dressing for these things to make them look and play better, but the actual generation code works and I’m fine with that for now.

Then came something that was harder than I thought. Enemy spawning.

Currently what happens is that in every room, except the first and last, a proximity sensor detects the player and then spawns enemies in the room randomly, one by one. The issue was actually getting them in the room. If I manually placed them it would screw up my generation code placing floor tiles, meaning I had to code them in. That’s where things got tricky. While I have variables in my room generation that marks how many rooms there are—horizontally and vertically—and how big a room is, these variables don’t include the walls around each room that join them to other rooms. I forgot that detail at first which had them spawning in inside of an evenly spaced grid as desired, but that grid was smaller than the actual level leaving them all scattered. Maybe I can make the final math formula a bit more streamlined but hey, it works now. I also used it to fix the code for the player and the door being off-center.

And since I’m now using Math to figure out where everything goes, I can easily adjust the size of the dungeon without issues. Right now it randomizes the width and height between three values, designed to ensure that it’s always a landscape rectangle.

For some extra polish, I added in an animation for enemies being spawned in. I already had one, but it was pretty placeholder. I think it was my bullet impact particle but in reverse and bigger.

Anyway, now a sort of dark hole thing opens below them and vanishes.

Ideally there would be a delay between the black hole and the enemy spawning in, but that’s something I can afford to worry about later.

I also wanted enemies to have a particle effect when they died. I ended up reusing the explosion sprite for this, because I wasn’t happy with it as an explosion. It’s a shockwave more than anything.

And because I wasn’t happy with the explosion, I redid it. Again. Third time’s the charm, probably. I am much happier with this effect.

You may also notice that I recolored the bullets. The previous pure-white bullets were fine, but I wanted them to have an outline that popped against the background. And since I had the chance, I took the opportunity to color them based on whether they were the player’s or enemies’.

I think, next, I’m going to whip up about 20 proper upgrades to replace the current ones with. Maybe 10. We’ll see. Because from here on I think all that’s left to do is, like I said before, add stuff.

Until next Devlog!

-DeusVerve

DevLogs like these are brought to you by Patron(s) like Haelerin!

Support me on Patreon to get Early Access to builds!

[marilostfieldblog]

[Transcript begin.]

[The transcript begins with the sound of someone crawling on tile, sobbing as they do. Someone can be heard running over before the crawling stops and incoherent screaming follows.]

?: Let me go!

[Voice identified: Sparrow.]

?: Not happening kid.

[Voice identified: Mari.]

Sp: LET ME GO MARI!

M: Nope.

Sp: THEN HELP ME HELP CASSIDY PLEA-

[Sparrow coughs, the sound of footsteps on tile continue as well as small thuds as if someone was being punched.]

M: I'm afraid I can't do that one either.

Sp: WE CAN'T LEAVE HER HERE!

M: Sorry kid. Life ain't far sometimes

Sp: SHUT UP AND HELP ME!

[The footsteps stop Mari can be heard setting Sparrow on the floor before taking a deep breath.]

M: Kid. Stop.

Sp: Then help me!

M: I'M NOT HELPING YOU GET YOURSELF KILLED! CUZ GUESS WHAT KID THAT’S WHAT WOULD HAPPEN!

[Sparrow stops abruptly, Mari can be heard walking once again as if pacing back and forth.]

M: I Understand you don't want to leave Cassidy behind but neither of us are gonna be able to help her!

Sp: Mari… Please…

M: Sparrow look at me… There’s nothing the two of us can do…

Sp: So what? You just want to leave her behind?

M: I never said that.

Sp: Well you're making reasons why we can't help her!

M: YOU CAN BARELY MOVE THANKS TO MAI! I ALMOST DIED TRYING TO SAVE YOU WHEN I NEVER WANTED TO DEAL WITH YOU IN THE FIRST PLACE-

[Mari stops everything instantly, realizing what they said. The footsteps start back up as sparrow begins crying again.]

M: I didn't mean that I'm sorry

Sp: [Mumbling.] G- go away…

M: Sparrow.

Sp: GO AWAY! IF YOU NEVER WANTED TO DEAL WITH ME THEN GO AWAY!

M: I… Can't do that… Sorry.

[The footsteps stop, Mari takes a deep breath as they can be heard sitting on the tile.]

M: A week.

Sp: W- what?

M: If you know where Cassidy is currently, give me a week to come up with a plan.

Sp: Really!

M: Yes, I just can't promise anything about Cassidy's safety cuz that's a variable I can't control. Happy now?

Sp: YES! THANK YOU MAR-

[Sparrow coughs some more, the crying now over as with the crawling.]

M: Maybe stop screaming? Probably bad for someone in your condition.

Sp: Yea-

[Sparrow is cut off by Mari shouting.]

M: SHIT MY PHONE!

[Mari can be heard struggling with the phone before the audio cuts off.]

[Transcript end.]

[homesquarecraft]

What is the most expensive cost of modular kitchen?

What is the most expensive cost of modular kitchen?

Introduction

A modular kitchen is more than just a place to cook; it is a reflection of style, convenience, and modern living. As homeowners increasingly seek sophistication in kitchen design, costs have escalated, with luxury features taking center stage. But what exactly makes a modular kitchen so expensive? Let's explore the key cost drivers and understand how to balance opulence with practicality.

Factors Influencing the Cost of a Modular Kitchen

A number of variables decide the final price of a modular kitchen, ranging from the choice of materials to technological input. These are the most significant ones:

Materials and finishes: Finishes of high quality like acrylic, lacquer, and PU paint cost more than laminate.

Hardware and accessories: Soft-close hinges, drawer channels, and lift-up mechanisms contribute to the cost.

Level of customization: Made-to-order designs, custom color schemes, and custom storage solutions increase the price.

Brand and appliance quality: Top brands providing built-in ovens, dishwashers, and refrigerators play a major role in determining costs.

The Costliest Components in a Modular Kitchen

Luxury Cabinetry and Finishes

Cabinetry is the structural backbone of a modular kitchen. MDF, plywood, and solid wood are the main components used, with hardwood being the costliest. A lacquered or PU finish provides an ultra-modern look but at a high price.

Luxury Countertops

Countertops determine style and functionality. Quartz, marble, and granite are the most popular materials. Marble radiates luxury, but engineered quartz provides strength with a modern look.

Luxury Appliances and Smart Technology

From voice-controlled refrigerators to WiFi ovens, smart kitchen appliances transform cooking experiences. But these state-of-the-art innovations do not come cheap.

Designer Fittings and Accessories

Gold-plated faucets, sensor taps, and luxury soft-close hinges add an extra touch of class to the modular kitchen, making them among the most expensive additions.

Kitchen Design Standards for a Luxury Modular Kitchen

Following the correct kitchen design guidelines ensures functionality while preserving aesthetics. Some of the important considerations are:

Accurate placement of kitchen work triangles for ease of movement.

Optimal storage optimization through intelligent drawers and pull-outs.

Smooth incorporation of intelligent kitchen solutions such as automated lighting.

Premium Cabinetry: The Backbone of a Luxury Kitchen

The choice of cabinetry material and finish is a determining factor in the cost. Solid wood is the most costly, followed by plywood and MDF. The finish type, whether PU paint, acrylic, or veneer, also affects prices.

High-End Countertops and Their Financial Impact

Countertop material influences budget and durability:

Marble: Timeless but needs maintenance.

Quartz: Engineered for durability.

Granite: A natural stone with beauty and strength combined.

Smart Kitchen Appliances and Their Impact on Cost

Modern high-end kitchens include state-of-the-art appliances such as:

Built-in ovens and dishwashers for that smooth look.

Sensor-based faucets to promote cleanliness.

Smart lighting systems that adjust according to natural light.

Luxury Interior Design Concepts for a Modular Kitchen

A luxury modular kitchen succeeds on the basis of a mix of:

Open-plan configurations with built-in dining areas.

Minimalist designs with concealed storage.

Best luxury interior design ideas featuring LED-lit shelves and textured backsplashes.

Flooring Options and Their Cost Consequences

High-end flooring options add to the appearance of a kitchen. Some options are:

Wooden flooring: Luxurious but maintenance-intensive.

Vitrified tiles: Economical with high strength.

Natural stone: Stunning but costly.

The Use of Lighting in an Elite Modular Kitchen

Multilevel lighting adds ambiance and functionality. Task lighting, pendant lights, and LED strips are key elements of contemporary kitchen design.

The Price of Customization in Modular Kitchens

Custom elements like hidden pull-outs, revolving corner shelves, and customized finishes add a lot to the cost.

Types of Sand Utilized in Modular Kitchen Construction

Although not given importance, the types of sand used in construction contributes to durability. River sand, M-sand, and pit sand are vital in kitchen foundation construction.

Conclusion

The costliest items in a modular kitchen are high-end cabinetry, countertops, appliances, and hardware. Yet, with thoughtful planning and wise decisions, the luxury modular kitchen is within reach without the undue financial burden.

[wesleyemmert]

DFX452 | Blog Post 3 | 3/25/25

Rendering and Finalizing the Ad

Creating an animated sequence involves multiple steps, from rendering in Unreal Engine to compositing in After Effects and finalizing with sound design in Premiere Pro. Here’s a detailed breakdown of my workflow.

Rendering in Unreal Engine

Rendering in Unreal Engine can be complex, but I follow Jon Jags Lee’s UE5.5 tutorial to ensure high-quality results. A major part of this process is configuring the render settings correctly.

Setting Up the Render Queue

Since transparency is required for compositing, I avoid rendering as a JPEG sequence and instead opt for EXR files, which retain more color data and support an alpha channel. I use DWAA compression to keep file sizes manageable without losing quality.

Optimizing Render Quality

To ensure smooth, high-quality visuals, I adjust several settings:

Anti-Aliasing: Reducing jagged edges by tweaking the sample count.

Render Warm-Up Frames: Set to 240 frames (instead of the default 48) to ensure particle effects are fully active.

Game Overrides: Forces Unreal to render at its highest possible quality, though large scenes may cause crashes.

Color Output: Since EXRs use a linear color space, I disable the "tone curve" to match the viewport's appearance. This requires configuring OCIO color spaces.

Console Variables: I customize settings for screen percentage, motion blur, and depth of field quality to refine the final output.

Once configured, I save these settings for future renders to streamline the process.

Rendering Separate Passes

Rather than rendering the entire scene as one file, I break it into individual elements for more control in post-production:

Goblins

Chest

Chest Shadows

Since Unreal doesn’t have a built-in shadow pass method, I use a green-screened floor to extract shadows later.

Compositing in After Effects

With the rendered sequences ready, I move to After Effects for compositing and additional effects.

Importing and Organizing Footage

I import the EXR sequences and set up a 30fps composition. Though 24fps would create a more cinematic feel, I stick with 30fps for a smoother look. After trimming and arranging the footage, I adjust the pacing. Initially planned as a 15-second ad, I found that extending it to 20 seconds gave viewers more time to absorb the details. However, if this was for a client, of course, sticking with the 15-second ad would be advised.

Creating a Motion Background

To add visual interest, I create a moving circular pattern using the CC Repeat Tile effect. These animated circles move left to right, giving the scene depth. I also add a masked solid layer to create a fading "floor" effect in the opening shot.

Applying Effects

To enhance realism and style, I incorporate:

Green Screen Shadows: Using the Key Light effect to remove the green and isolate shadows.

Lighting Effects: Lens flares, vignette, light rays, Lumetri color.

Environmental Elements: Blur, drop shadow, particles.

For the goblins’ jump animation, I add a sparkle effect using shape animations within a duplicated composition, making the movement more dynamic.

Designing the Logo

Since this is meant to feel like a toy line, I needed a playful, eye-catching logo.

Sketching Concepts Initially, I considered using a single goblin mascot but decided to include all four for a stronger brand identity.

Illustrating in Adobe Illustrator

Used the pen tool to trace renders, creating a cartoon-like version.

Designed a pocket for the goblins to "sit inside."

Adjusted their arrangement for better visibility.

Typography and Final Touches

Selected a bold font and adjusted it for balance.

Added an outline stroke to separate the goblins from the text.

Applied a Gaussian blur behind each goblin for better contrast.

Here's the logo without any borders, in addition to the first and second attempt at the logo. I'm much happier with the changes made in the second, but what do you think? I may continue to adjust it later, after feedback is given.

Audio Editing in Premiere Pro

After compositing, I bring everything into Premiere Pro for sound design. If this were a more complex project, I’d use Adobe Audition, but Premiere has all the tools I need.

Adding Sound Effects

I source free sound effects from Pixabay and Freesound.org, ensuring they are copyright-free. Carefully layering SFX enhances the animation’s impact.

Voiceover Recording

Since I lack voice-acting experience, I first attempted recording in Audition but wasn’t satisfied with the results. Instead, I used AI-generated voiceovers from ElevenLabs due to budget constraints.

Mixing and Leveling Audio

To ensure professional-quality sound, I follow standard audio levels:

Overall Mix: -10dB to -14dB

Dialogue: -12dB to -15dB

Music: -18dB to -22dB

Sound Effects: -10dB to -20dB, with peaks up to -8dB

Finalizing the Ad

With everything in place, I render a finished draft and gather feedback for adjustments.

The next step is to create high-quality beauty shots of the toys and chest for my portfolio.

That wraps up this post! I’d love to hear your thoughts on the logo design—did I manage to pull it off despite not being a pro illustrator?

[vishvajit123]

Global Electric Mop Market: Share, Size, Trends, Regional Analysis, Key Players, and Forecast (2025–2035)

Electric Mop Market Outlook

The electric mop market was valued at USD 6.67 billion in 2024 and is projected to reach USD 12.4 billion by 2035, growing at a CAGR of approximately 5.8% from 2025 to 2035. This industry focuses on the production, distribution, and sales of automated mopping devices that utilize advanced technology for efficient floor cleaning. Equipped with features such as automatic scrubbing, steam cleaning, and self-cleaning capabilities, electric mops offer superior performance compared to traditional mops.

The market is driven by increasing consumer demand for convenient and time-saving household appliances. Factors such as growing hygiene awareness, advancements in cleaning technology, and the rising adoption of smart devices contribute to market expansion. The report covers various product types, including cordless, corded, and steam mops, as well as applications in residential and commercial sectors. Distribution channels include both online and offline platforms. Leading brands such as Bissell, Shark, and iRobot continue to dominate the market, with continuous innovation shaping the competitive landscape.

Get free sample Research Report  https://www.metatechinsights.com/request-sample/2121

Market Dynamics

The increasing preference for smart, automated cleaning solutions is a significant driver of the electric mop market. Modern consumers seek appliances that are efficient, easy to use, and equipped with advanced features such as self-cleaning systems, adjustable settings, and cordless designs. The need for minimal manual labor and enhanced cleaning performance fuels the adoption of electric mops.

Heightened awareness of hygiene and cleanliness, particularly after the pandemic, has further propelled market growth. Consumers are increasingly prioritizing deep-cleaning solutions that ensure germ-free environments. Steam-based electric mops, which use high temperatures for disinfection, have gained popularity due to their ability to kill bacteria and break down stubborn dirt with minimal effort.

One of the key challenges facing the electric mop market is the dependency on electricity or battery power, which can limit usage during power outages or in regions with unreliable power supply. Battery-operated models require frequent recharging, which can be inconvenient for cleaning large areas. Over time, battery degradation can lead to higher maintenance costs. Consumers seeking energy-independent cleaning tools may find this a drawback.

A notable trend in the market is the rise of subscription-based services for maintenance and upgrades. Many brands now offer subscription models that provide regular delivery of replacement parts, cleaning solutions, and software updates for smart mops. This strategy enhances customer loyalty, generates recurring revenue, and ensures optimal product performance while catering to the busy lifestyles of modern consumers.

Product customization presents a significant opportunity for growth in the electric mop market. Consumers are looking for tailored cleaning solutions that cater to different flooring types, such as hardwood, tile, laminate, and carpet. Manufacturers are responding by introducing electric mops with adjustable cleaning modes, interchangeable mop heads, and variable steam settings to accommodate diverse cleaning needs. This customization enhances customer satisfaction and helps brands differentiate themselves in a competitive market.

Industry Insights from Experts

Mark J. Bissell, Chairman & CEO of BISSELL Inc., highlights India as a key emerging market with significant growth potential due to its large population and increasing demand for home appliances.

David Qian, Vice Chairman of ECOVACS, notes the rapid innovation in robotic vacuum cleaners and electric mops, emphasizing the importance of customer feedback in driving product development.

Segment Analysis

The market is categorized based on product type, including cordless electric mops, corded electric mops, steam mops, and spray mops. Cordless electric mops have emerged as the most popular choice due to their convenience, mobility, and rechargeable battery operation. Consumers prefer these models for their flexibility and ability to clean without power cord restrictions. The advancement in battery technology has significantly improved run time and performance, making them ideal for modern homes.

Read Full Research Report https://www.metatechinsights.com/industry-insights/electric-mop-market-1938

From a technology perspective, steam mops dominate the market due to their ability to clean effectively using hot steam, eliminating the need for chemical cleaners. These mops are highly preferred for their ability to disinfect floors, remove tough stains, and kill bacteria. Their versatility across different flooring types, combined with growing consumer interest in eco-friendly cleaning solutions, has contributed to their widespread adoption.

Regional Analysis

North America leads the electric mop market, with the United States and Canada driving growth. The increasing consumer preference for advanced cleaning solutions, technological innovations, and the availability of high-performance electric mops contribute to market expansion. Busy urban lifestyles and the demand for hygienic cleaning tools have further fueled adoption in this region. The strong presence of major brands and well-established retail and e-commerce channels makes electric mops easily accessible to consumers.

In the Asia-Pacific region, rapid urbanization, increasing disposable incomes, and changing consumer preferences are boosting market growth. Countries such as China, India, and Japan are witnessing a surge in demand for electric mops due to rising hygiene awareness and the popularity of smart home appliances. E-commerce platforms have played a crucial role in making these products more widely available, with urban and rural consumers increasingly investing in advanced cleaning solutions. Manufacturers are also focusing on environmentally friendly models to cater to the growing demand for sustainable products.

Competitive Landscape

The electric mop market is highly competitive, with key players such as Bissell, SharkNinja, and iRobot leading the industry. These companies continuously innovate to enhance cleaning efficiency, ease of use, and smart technology integration.

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Bissell is known for its advanced electric mops with dual-action cleaning heads and water filtration systems. SharkNinja focuses on lightweight, battery-operated mops with strong suction capabilities. iRobot has introduced smart electric mops with Bluetooth and Wi-Fi connectivity, allowing users to schedule and control cleaning remotely.

Sustainability has become a key focus for industry leaders, with many brands incorporating eco-friendly materials and energy-efficient features into their designs. As competition intensifies, companies are expected to introduce more advanced, customizable, and intelligent cleaning solutions tailored to diverse consumer needs.

Recent Developments

In February 2024, Truvox International partnered with i-Team Profession to introduce the imop Lite and i-Scrub 21B cordless power scrubbers in the UK cleaning market. These innovative products aim to improve efficiency in commercial cleaning.

In January 2024, Narwal, a leading home robotics brand, unveiled three new floor-cleaning innovations at CES 2024. The Narwal Freo X Ultra and Narwal Freo X Plus offer advanced, ultra-quiet vacuum-mop functionality, while the Narwal S10 Pro is an upright model designed for enhanced cleaning performance in modern homes.

Future Outlook

The electric mop market is set for steady growth as consumers increasingly adopt smart, automated cleaning solutions. Continuous advancements in battery technology, smart connectivity, and eco-friendly designs will shape the future of the industry. With rising awareness of hygiene, urbanization, and consumer preference for convenience, electric mops will remain a key player in the evolving home appliance market. Brands that focus on innovation, customization, and sustainability will gain a competitive edge, ensuring long-term success in the global electric mop industry.