#Increase Height Machine

[freshstitches]

10 years ago, I quietly published a knitting pattern that would change everything. The #PetalCowl was the first in a series of seven patterns showcasing a new knitting technique that I dubbed Stacked Stitches.

The technique was named for how these stitches are created: increases and decreases are stacked up on top of each other in order to create height within a row. The result is something that was previously unattainable without the use of a warp knitting machine or knitting loom (more on this in another post). Tutorials for these techniques are also posted on YouTube.

This extra wavy pattern was published when millennial chevrons were at peak trendiness. I believe it has remained popular because knitters remain curious about the stitches, they always look for challenging patterns, and the chevrons are not *too* cheugy.

From the original pattern description: "The Petal Cowl is designed to highlight the color shifts of a self striping yarn. The stitch shapes are inspired by flower petals, fish scales, and vintage crochet afghans. A great summer knit, or a cold weather project when made in heavy yarn. The extra long chevron motif is created using the Stacked Stitch technique which sets this cowl apart."

You can find the pattern on Ravelry, and on Xandypeters.com. no matter where you purchase, a 10% discount will be automatically applied to the Petal cowl and the scarf version of the same pattern, no code needed.

[barbieaemond]

Intrusion (part I)

moodboard by the queen herself @zae5

PAIRING: (modern) Aemond Targaryen x Lannister!reader

WARNINGS: angst, Aemond has no filter, drug use (very brief), mentions of overdose, suggestive themes, sexual tension (sadly nothing more but part II will be a helluva ride)

AUTHOR’S NOTE: Sothoryos is a large continent in Martin’s universe. It is located below Essos.

WORD COUNT: 7k

Song for this fic:

taglist: @zae5 @chompchompluke @multyfangirl

“What’s up with the green light?”

Jason's voice came distantly, even though he was sitting right next to her. She looked up through her long eyelashes, scanning the mighty, green-lit Hightower from top to bottom, an emerald glow kissed her face.

“How dumb are you? It was a beacon once.” She said mindlessly, dragging her eyes away from the car window to watch her brother crouched on a little mirror with three lines of white powder on it.

“D’you want some?”

“I’m done with that shit.”

“I should hope so.” He chuckled, rolling a banknote between his fingers with the expertise of a magician ready to do his trick. “Dad is still paying the hospital to keep their mouth shut. Not to mention the papers…”

She heard him snort the substance, humming with delight as it reached his brain. She looked at him for a moment, green just like the glowing light on her face. It was so easy for Jason to surrender to the void. She struggled to do even that.

“Speaking of which” he said wiping his nose “he could’ve bothered to come.”

“And watch Otto Hightower gloat in his face? Dad would rather throw checks to the homeless.”

“Why are we here then?” he asked as the car stopped in front of the huge, tall building, the tallest in all the continent.

“Because he wants to remind everyone we are still the wealthiest in this wretched world.” She said she grabbed her little purse and got out of the fancy car as soon as the driver opened her door.

Blinding lights fell on her as photographers took note that the Lannister family had sent its scions to attend the annual Gala held by the Hightowers. A party that had always been held in the capital in the previous years, at least until what the newspapers had called the divorce of the century.

“I would not be so sure about that.” Jason said, squinting his eyes in front of the ruthless flashes. “Papers say Viserys is going to pay a fortune, for alimony and all that shit.”

“Miss Lannister! Here, please! On your right!”

She built a broad smile for the photographers, maneuvering her hair to let it slide down her shoulder, placing a hand on her hip. A well-thought-out act, repeated incessantly for as long as she could remember. A beautiful machine doll bathed in gold and diamonds.

“Do you still read papers?” she asked, not breaking her plastic smile.

“How else should I find out if I've done something illegal?”

“They’re a reliable source on that, less on others. They claim I had a thing with Cregan Stark when even walls know he’s gay.”

They claimed many other things. But she never confirmed or denied the rumors, because it was all part of the plan.

Any rumor of an alleged flirt or talk of an engagement with a scion from one of the old power families of the country only increased the height of the pedestal on which her father and mother had placed her. So that when rumors died, the vultures would come even more savage, raising the stakes to win the most coveted prize in their circle of starched shirts and centuries-old privileges that no longer had any value except in the small, greedy world inside their small, greedy heads.

She moved, swiftly but graciously, and stepped inside the building, followed by her brother and his giggles, and the photographers screaming at the top of their lungs, begging for another picture—just one more. The begging had started already.

The Hall of the Hightower Palace was a sight to behold. Adorned with green and dark tones, crystal chandeliers hanging from the high ceilings and yellow cocktail music pushing all the fine-dressed people to chat and laugh more loudly as if they unconsciously tried to imitate the lively ups and downs of the notes.

The Lannisters lingered on the entrance, immediately catching many pairs of eyes, greedy and green as the decorations around them.

“Are they waiting for us to go greet them?” Jason asked, watching the Hightowers at the center of the Hall. “Gods, why do they always act as if they were royals and us merely subjects?”

"Apparently, it has been proven they have hints of blue in their blood.”

“Who’s the blondie?” he asked, taking his sister’s arm as they walked towards the hosts.

“Helaena Targaryen.”

“Oh! The freak?”

“She’s not a freak. She’s a renowned entomologist.”

“And my point stands.”

Miss Lannister knew all the four Hightowers waiting to be greeted. After all, who didn't?

Otto Hightower was the most influential man in the country, although he liked to hide and pull his strings behind the curtains. They said that family and strangers made no difference to him. His daughter Alicent would agree with a stiff lip.

She wore the most lavish dress of all, but that was not what caught the eye, but rather the determination in her gaze and the way she stood. A woman free from the chains of a marriage she had never wanted.

“It is a pleasure to have both of you here.” She said smiling at the two Lannisters. Her father Otto was towering just behind her, a curious look on his face as his eyes rapidly scanned Miss Lannister.

In fact, he stepped in, saying “Indeed, Alicent. Especially Miss Lannister. I’m relieved to see you well.”

After what happened in Pyke, was the part he deliberately omitted.

The young woman looked at him, unfazed, building another one of her plastic smiles and then directed her attention to the youngest son of Alicent and Viserys Targaryen. Daeron.

The boy was no more than twenty, but he had a way of standing and carrying himself, which gave him at least five more years. That was the price of being doomed to inherit a heavy family name and all within it. The young Lannister girl understood it all too well.

As for Helaena, she seemed the most out-of-place creature, like watching a dolphin swim along sharks. The Lannister girl didn’t know her that much; truthfully no one did. Helaena was always far away from the country for her studies, traveling to the edge of the world to discover wild and rare creatures. She had a way of avoiding eye contact, Miss Lannister noticed, if not for brief and furtive glances, as if she was afraid that if she looked too much, she would see too much.

“And you don’t call that a freak?” Jason asked once they moved away from the Hightowers.

“You are just sour because she barely looked at you.” his sister answered, grabbing a flute of champagne from a passing waiter.

“Hey. I’m nice to look at!” he said gesturing to his figure.

“You tell yourself that.” she sipped her bubbly like water, barely tasting it, as her eyes roamed around the lavish hall, watching the same old play unfold, with the same old puppets. And she was one of them, perhaps the main star, ready to follow the script and never stray from it. It was her purpose in life. A well-trained parrot with a melodic laugh and the stillness of a porcelain doll.

She looked around and saw the eagerness, the anticipation as they bided their time before flocking to her, begging for flesh and money and power, each one of them so eager to sell one piece of themselves to be on a golden plate, the very same on which everything was always freely given to her. Things, places, people. The Golden Girl, they called her. She was born in it, she reflected it. She never had to ask, she never had to beg for anything. While everyone around her seemed to be able to do nothing else.

"Miss Lannister, we would love to have you as our guest in High Garden. Please, consider our invitation."

"Miss Lannister, did your father receive the gift I sent him last week? Please, have him contact me as soon as possible, I have another proposal for a collaboration."

"Miss Lannister, please, convince your father not to cut off the funds, I wouldn't know what to do without the invaluable support of your bank.”

“Miss Lannister, please—"

Please. Please. Please. Please.

They all came muffled, the beggars and their begging, as if speaking from the surface while she was deep down underwater, floating. Then the puppet would take over, moving haughtily and mischievously, promising lies with empty smiles and stolen words. The same old power play, to tell the world the Lannisters were far above it.

But amid the muffled chatter and greedy eyes, there was one in particular, stripped of all reverence, blue and cold as the eye of the scientist dissecting something under a microscope.

He had placed her under the lens out of pure boredom.

He never attended these kinds of gatherings, at least not after Sothoryos, not after Floris. He was there only because his mother had insisted, almost pleaded with him. This was the first public event after the divorce. It was essential to appear close, united.

The word tasted rotten in Aemond's mouth.

He had made sure Aegon would not attend, and had come in through the back, creeping into the hall like a spectre.

Alicent had seen him at once, her eyes widening with surprise as if she were certain he would not come. And they had barely talked.

She had kissed him on the cheeks with that look in her eyes, the one that rose tenderness and contempt at once inside him, twin flames mirroring and dancing around each other. His mother's lips opened and closed repeatedly, like a record needle cutting the same groove on and on without making a sound. And he had no desire to fix that.

Once, maybe. He had nurtured so many unspoken words that they had ended up souring and festering the more he held them back, locked in a dark corner where no light filtered. So, his mouth stayed sealed and silent, like a tomb.

He had withdrawn to a corner of the hall, watching as the people lingered with their gazes on his dead eye, half curious, half scared. Something he was all too used to. He found himself cursing under his breath for wasting time in such a vapid and useless way. He could have been at home, studying, or working in the basement.

But then he had spotted her.

It was hard not to.

The moment she had entered the hall with her brother, it seemed she had drawn all attention to herself, absorbing all the light from the chandeliers. It seemed that her golden dress was truly made of gold.

Aemond had seen her once or twice in the past and each time, two distinct thoughts had rapidly crossed his mind.

First: that she was a pretty doll with more money in her pocket than cells in her brain.

Second: that he wouldn't mind taking her doll's clothes off.

No man with sense would have denied her beauty, but the more he looked at her, the more he saw how dry she was, how cold, like a sculpture doomed to live the same moment forever.

It was all scene, all pose. And Aemond understood it at once since he himself had enacted the same play in the years past. He knew what it meant to be an inanimate thing waiting to be moved by others, for duty or loyalty. Things that had lost all meaning to him once he’d found out that the more he latched on these things, the more hollow he felt.  

He watched the Lannister girl build fake smiles at each turn and he found himself grimacing, feeling pity for her, almost contempt. Perhaps she was just a tool, an extension of his former self for him to loathe, like spitting into a mirror.

But he just couldn’t stop watching.

She had a way of making the place where she stood like some kind of holy shrine and everyone around her kept scrambling to fall at her feet. She had a way of moving, slowly, like a creature living underwater. She would lean forward as she listened to people, only to retreat when it was her turn to speak, and she did it quietly, making the privileged speaker unconsciously lean towards her.

A tactic—a working tactic, though. Because Aemond had found himself craning his neck forward more than he would’ve liked to admit, and he wasn't even close to her.

“Choosing your next victim?”

He turned on his blind side as Helaena stopped beside him, handing a flute of champagne.

“Hāedar.” he said, taking the glass “Don’t say that. With all the shit they say about me, tomorrow they might title I’m a serial killer.”

“Well, you do have a dank basement in your place. And with the way you keep looking at the Lannister girl, it would be hard to beat the allegations.”

He looked down at the sizzling bubbles and curled his lips. Helaena did the same as her blue eyes scanned his face. Of all her brothers, she had always had the closest bond with Aemond. Born only one year apart, they had grown up as close as twins. Helaena did not look down when she talked to Aemond; she did not stutter or struggle to voice her thoughts as she did with anyone else. And his lips, which struggled so much to voice his emotions, always curled up in the most spontaneous way when they spent time together.

“You won’t get away with a smile, though.” She pointed out after a sip of bubbly “You barely talked to me earlier.”

“I was afraid our mother would stir up a hornet’s nest seeing me here.”

“She was sure you wouldn’t come.”

“I shouldn’t have. This place smells of coffin.” 

She watched him for a moment, trying to guess his mood and, therefore, whether it was a good time to speak. “Did you get my message last week?”

His eye remained fixed on the elated crowd, but Helaena didn’t miss the slight twitch in his lips. “I did.”

“You didn’t answer.”

“What was there to say?”

“Aemond, I know you have your grudges, but... he’s our father and he’s severely ill. He wants to see us, all of us, at Summerhall, next month. I want to believe he’s changing and—”

“Must I remind you what happened the last time we had a family heart to heart?”

She did nothing but cast a single, saddened glance to his dead eye and all her willingness to talk and try to make things better withered like a leaf in a frosted land.

“He’s changing because he already has one foot in the grave. Quit the fancy words, Hel, he’s not changing. He’s just trying to relieve his conscience. A bit late for that, no?” and he downed his champagne in one gulp.

“Aem—”

“I don’t want to hear about it. I don’t care.” He said, slipping his pack of smokes from his pocket and placing one cigarette between his lips. He glanced one last time at his sister and with the coldest distance he said “But do let me know when he dies. I'll toast to that.”

She had had three flutes of champagne while talking to a countless number of faceless beggars when she started to feel nauseated. She didn’t even know by what, whether it was the champagne, the people, or herself. Perhaps all of them.

The cold night air embraced her as she went out on the terrace, making the hairs on her arms stand and her half-covered spine shiver. She had not brought her coat with her, but she did not mind. The cold awoke her from her torpor, made her stop being a relic on a mantelpiece.

She slipped a cigarette between her lips and looked into her purse for the lighter. "No, no, no—" she said to no one, frantically feeling every nook and cranny of the purse. "Fuck!"

"Here."

She jumped, turning her head just in time to see a lighter flying towards her. She caught it, staring at the dark corner on her left. There was a man sitting there, wrapped by the shadows, except for a thin white hand laying on the table, long fingers, and half a cigarette resting between index and middle.

She squinted, trying to get a better look. “I can’t see you.”

“I do.”

It was just a simple statement, but his tone was strange, riddled with an edge of shrewdness.

She stared at the dark figure for a moment longer, then lit her cigarette and walked a few steps closer.

"I would like to know who I'm speaking to, stranger." She said, handing over the lighter.

A moment later the shadow stood up, and she had to lift her chin as she watched the glow of the lamps unraveling his face, sharp like a knife. The air hitched in her throat, her gaze inevitably caught by the blue of his eye, as well as the dead blue of the prosthetic. "Oh."

His arched mouth bent upwards. "Define your oh."

“It’s just a oh, you’re not a stranger after all.”

“Are you sure?” he asked, curiously tilting his head with a ghosting grin “What do you think you know about me? Aside from what you read on gossip papers.”

“I don’t read gossip papers.”

“Yes, you do. All the girls like you do that.”

“All the girls like me?”

“Dolls with a trust fund to squander before forty.”

She raised her eyebrows, quickly scanning the young man before her. He was clad in black, with a black turtleneck and a leather jacket, accentuating his sharp features and pale face framed by short hair, a bit curly but neatly styled. “You’re the one to talk, Mr. I have blue blood in my veins.”

“I don’t work for my family.” He said matter-of-factly “They don’t pay my rent and they don’t cover up my shit.”

“Mine neither.”

His eyebrow raising was enough to dismantle her lie right away. “Papers say otherwise.”

“Do you trust papers and their cheap rumors?”

“Hmm. Trust is a strong word. But true or false, rumors are often more revealing than facts.” he took a long drag on his cigarette, narrowing his eyes and she watched as the dead one remained unnaturally still. It was not disturbing, she thought. It gave him a sinister allure, catching her off guard.

“Then I should believe all the rumors about you and your...charming mystery.”

“They say I’m charming now?” he asked with a smirk.

“I believe they called you a sphinx” she deadpanned “before claiming you hit a journalist, a woman.”

“And which one do you think is more likely?”

She looked at him uncertainly. Well, he was charming. But he was a lot more mysterious. More than a sphinx, Aemond Targaryen was a living riddle.

Even before the accident in Sothoryos, from where he returned with an eye missing, the second-born son of Viserys Targaryen and Alicent Hightower was a foggy figure, often in the shadows, more than often in the shadows of someone else, his half-sister Rhaenyra, his older brother Aegon. And after Sothoryos, he seemed to have grown his own shadows, distancing himself from his family and dropping his academic career to do Gods-know-what in a small flat in the oldest quarter of Oldtown.

“Both?” she dared.

He clicked his tongue, looking away with disappointment, and flicked the cigarette. “Too easy. And now you’re boring me.”

“I shall take my leave, then.” she chirped with a tight smile.

“Don’t expect me to follow you. I am not one of those wankers inside who come in their pants as you bat your fake eyelashes.”

The smile left her face instantly, and she glared at him, throwing her half-cigarette on the ground. “It is true, then. Royals do act like the rudest jerks.”

Instead of looking offended, her words seemed to do nothing but tickle his pride—some kind of gratification that poured like poison from the angles of his mouth. “I don’t act. But if I wanted to, I'd know who to turn to.”

“Meaning?” 

“And you keep boring me.” his eye went momentarily below her neck, and he tilted his chin “Are those pretty diamonds slowing blood to your brain?”

Miss Lannister looked stunned. No one, ever, dared to talk to her like that.

She was used to being praised and begged and praised. A beautiful portrait framed by gold and hung on a wall for all to see. She should have been outraged, she should have used her last name as shield and threat. But for once, she was breathing on her own, free of any strings.

“Are they real?” he asked suddenly, and she stilled as his hand ghosted on her necklace, feeling his cold fingertips hovering above her skin.

“Of course they are.”

“Hmm.” He mused, pulling his hand back as he continued to stare at the necklace and then down at her dress.  “They serve their purpose I’d say.” he said dragging his eye back to her face.

“Slowing my brain?” she asked with a little vitriolic smile.

“Hiding all the fake beneath them.”

“Who are you, a fortune teller?” she spitefully asked. “Do you possess the Third Eye as well as the Fake One?”

“One eye is enough to see right through you, golden girl.”

“And why were you watching me if I am so blatantly obvious?”

He almost shrugged his shoulders. “These parties are dreadfully boring. I was in need of a distraction, and you were hard to miss.”

“I could say the same about you.” Her gaze flicked for an instant to his dead eye. “Except that I don’t hide in dark corners from my own family.”

Whether he was stung by her words or not, his composure remained utterly impassive. A sphinx through and through.

“No. You do it before them.” An amused smile, spiced up with poison, curled his lips. “At least I have the dignity to disappear instead of begging for attention like a pathetic creature.”

Her words did not sting, but his surely did. And they shouldn’t.

They had crossed paths once or twice in the years prior, but effectively, Aemond was but a stranger to her. She wasn’t even aware of him watching her inside the hall, maybe too absorbed in her puppet play, or maybe resigned to scream into a crowded room of deaf mannequins.

She swallowed heavily, not dropping her gaze, waiting for all the gold to shield her, hide her, serving its purpose once more. But Aemond had a strange look in his eye. He was staring at her, and what he saw thrilled him.

He was sure he would see harshness, contempt, but not that. Not…anguish. It was buried in her pretty eyes and yet it just lied there in full sight, the darker shade of abyss beneath the crystalline blue of the deceiving surface.

If only someone had bothered to look.

“You remind me of someone.” he said almost mindlessly.

“Do I dare asking or do you wish to offend me some more?”

He seemed to ponder for a while, looking at her as if he were measuring an opponent.

“Come with me. I’ll show you.”

He moved, leaving the terrace without waiting for her, sure enough she would follow him. And she did.  

Not immediately, though. She stared at his tall figure as he went back inside and thought she should go back to the party, go back to the script. There was something uncanny, almost eerie about staying close to him, like walking on the thin thread of a cobweb while being dreadfully aware to be walking towards the spider’s bite.

But the dread made her feel alive, made her heart pounding in her throat. So, she followed him.

“I didn’t know your family had it.” She said with a tinge of amazement as they stopped before the painting gloriously exhibited along one of the lavish corridors upstairs. “I thought it got lost during some war.”

“It was.” He said, stopping beside her, eye roaming on the canvas.

“Did I remind you of a lost anonymous painting?”

“You reminded me of the Maiden.” And his eye flicked to the left of the painting. Then he dragged his gaze on her, turning his head, and watched her. “Do you know the story?”

“The myth?”

“You don’t believe it to be true?”

“I don’t believe in Gods. Or myths.”

“That is strange, coming from a girl who spent so much time building her own.”

She turned her head and looked at him. He was smiling subtly, but it was different this time. There was no poison dripping from the angles of his mouth, but the clearest intrigue.

It stopped her heart for a moment. A sudden cut in the canvas, a crack in the porcelain. And she felt that this stranger was peeking inside, or perhaps she was.

Aemond looked back at the painting and laced his arms behind his back, making the leather of his jacket creak. “They said once there was a land inhabited only by Gods and Monsters. The Maiden was the most beautiful Goddess in the Holy Garden. She grew flowers from her hands, trailing behind her as she walked. But she was unhappy. The Gods only sought her for her gift, used her as a piece of ornament. She was beautiful on the outside, but inside—”

“Lonely and hollow.” she filled in.

“Just like the Stranger.” he said, and they turned at the same time, locking their eyes.

Aemond glanced back at the ominous figure in the painting and said “He was not allowed to enter the Gods world. He lived underground, blowing his mortal winds to call the souls into his realm of death. But then he saw her. He dried her tears through his wind until one day—”

“He took her.” she filled in once more. “He used the wind to tie her hands with the flowery branches she grew and kidnapped her from the Holy Garden.”

“Are you sure kidnapped is the right word?”

“According to the myth? Yes. You might have been a great scholar, but I’m not a goat.”

He chuckled quietly, and the sound made her turn again to watch him.

He held her gaze as amusement left his marbled features, and without taking his eye off her, he tilted his chin towards the painting “Look at her. Look at her face and tell me what you see."

She did so, observing the anguish, the dark trepidation on the Maiden’s face.

“She is frightened.”

“Is she?” he asked, and suddenly he was almost behind her. His breath tickled her ear like the wind on a hot summer day, and her breath hitched once more. “Look into her eyes.” he whispered on her nape “Is it fear to be taken…or desire?”

She swallowed, keeping her eyes fixed on the painting, and dug her nails into the expensive fabric of her little purse. “Art is not math.” she said with confidence “There is not one undisputable interpretation.” And she turned to face him “So unless you painted that, and I have some doubts, you say she’s keen on being taken. I say she’s frightened.”

Aemond stared at her for a moment with a strange new look on his face, as if someone had just issued a challenge to him. His blue eye was wide, and the little smirk was peeking through his lips. “Do you ever choose a position, golden girl?”

“I think I just did.”

“Allow me to rephrase, then. A less boring position.”

She opened her mouth to retort, but he was faster. “Let me show you something a little less ambiguous.”  

"Wow, these are beautiful," she said as they climbed the stairs to the floor above the one where the glorious anonymous painting stood. On the angled wall, a series of photographs were exhibited—portraits, precisely—all in black and white.

"Are we complimenting each other now?" he asked, halting on a step.

She looked at him doubtfully for a moment before slightly widening her eyes. "What, these are yours?"

He gave her a simple nod, and she looked back at the portraits.

"My mother put them here. Her way to prove she cares, I guess." He said absent-mindedly, as if conversing about the weather. 

The Lannister girl watched him closely, in search of something that would betray such a cold statement, but there were no cracks, no cuts.

"The great mystery unraveled.” She said forcing a dramatic tone “Aemond Targaryen is a photographer."

"I am not. I don’t do it for a living.”

“Yes, because you don’t need a job to get by.”

“Look who’s talking.”

She glared at him, trying with poor success to stifle a smile.

“It's just an interest." He stated.

"A passion." she dared to suggest.

"I wouldn't call it that. Passion preludes emotion, ardor. Photography is nothing like."

She watched him fold his arms behind his back in a peculiar way, grabbing his forearms with his hands. He had done the same thing earlier, in front of the painting. The gesture caught her attention then, as it did now.

"What is it then?" she asked, trailing her eyes back to his face.

He stared at her for an impossible long time before answering. “Revelation.”

She looked back at the portraits and observed them thoroughly. There were some men caught behind the camera, but the majority were all women. Young and beautiful women.

The portraits were majestic, she considered. He had found a way to toy with light which made these people look like glimpses from an otherworldly dimension, flashes of dreams.

No, not dreams, she thought.

The light was cruel, exposing, cutting. And all the subjects seemed to have been caught in a moment of great distress, flowing almost into a grotesque despair.

Flashes of nightmares.  

The sight made her lips part, her skin shiver with eeriness and something else, something she could not name. The same basic instinct that had pushed her to follow him. These people, made eternal by black and white, were dressed, but their souls utterly naked before the eye.

“I wouldn’t call it revelation…”

“And what would you call it?” he asked, stepping beside her to watch the portrait, not missing her little startle when his elbow brushed against hers.

She took a deep, silent breath and turned her head to look at him. "Intrusion.”

“Hmm.” He mused, slipping his pack of smokes from his pocket “Intrusion of which kind?”

He placed the cigarette between his lips only to see her hand snatching it away, but slowly, just like she was used to move, so much that her fingertip brushed his upper lip. “Any kind.” she answered and his eye fell on her rosy lips closing around the filter.

His mouth twitched, as if her light brushing had lit his skin aflame, and he moved unconsciously, bringing the lighter close but pausing, his thumb lingering on the little wheel, and he looked at her, just as she looked at him.  

When he pushed his finger to light the flame, the short metallic sound came through with a strange finality, a curtain dropping after the first act.

She lit the cigarette and took a long drag, glancing at the portraits and then back at him. “Did you fuck these women?” 

“No.” was all he said, hiding a little smirk as he slipped another smoke between his lips. He saw her raising her eyebrows with clear disbelief, so he clarified. “Not all of them.”

“I bet they revealed themselves thoroughly.”

“They were more than keen to do it.”

“And did you?” she countered, tilting her head, lowering her voice so that once again, he found himself leaning towards her, like a moth to a flame. “Did you reveal yourself as well? Did you let them intrude?”

“Those who go beneath the surface do so at their peril.”

She clicked her tongue and laughed—the very first genuine laugh she could conjure up in the span of hours, or even days. “Now you’re just trying to impress me.”

“Yes. And unfortunately for you, it is working.”

She gave him a bemused look at his brazen statement, but she felt strangely exposed under his unblinking stare, a hand ending her ceaseless floating to anchor her against the seabed.

“I want you to come to my place," he said suddenly, his voice kept quiet, almost soft, to the verge of whispering. It wrapped her senses like a soothing lullaby.

“I want to take your picture.”

“Why? To end up on this wall and in your bed like dozens of girls before me?”

“Dozens?” he raised an eyebrow “I’m flattered.”

“Don’t be.”

“Hmm” he crooned, cocking his head to one side, a contented expression stretching on his face, much like a cat licking its whiskers. “Envy doesn’t suit a Lannister.”

“Envy?” she repeated, laughing scornfully. “You’re an arrogant brat, has anyone ever told you?”

“Many in fact. So, shall we?”   

“Shall we what?”

“Pity, I thought you had stopped boring me.” He said pocketing his lighter “Stay here playing the doll with those old fogeys, if you like. I’m leaving.”

She had only time to blink and he was gone, leaving her on those steps with the foreign, unsettling longing to follow. Her feet moved on their own, dragging her back to the party with an urgency shaking her bones, pushing her eyes to dart in every corner of the hall, moving amongst the people as if chasing the wind.

“Oh, there you are!” Jason pulled her to him, and she stilled, as she was used to, but everything inside her kept moving. “That Lonmouth smartass came at me screaming like a chicken.” Jason said with cocaine pupils, slurring words after words “as if it’s Dad’s fault that he’s an idiot. Put him in his place, would you? I’m too high, I might stick a fork between his eyes. D’you you want to hear something funny?”

“No, Jason. I don’t.” she replied absently, looking around once more “Listen, did you see Aemond Targaryen?”

“What?”

“Nevermind.” She said, wriggling herself from his hold, but he was fast to pull her back “Sis, why are you looking for that creep?”  

“Let me go, Jason.”

“Listen to me. First the shit show in Pyke and now Aemond One Eye? Dad would not be happy to know you are—”

“Dad would not be happy to know fucking anything that he has not concocted and told us to do. And I’m tired of it, Jason.” She hastily broke free from his grip, alerting the well-dressed people around them, but she ignored them altogether. “Just this once, you’ll have to play the puppet. I’m done for tonight.” she tugged the pocket square from his jacket and threw it at him. “And wipe your nose, for Gods’ sake. There’s coke on it.”

She wandered inside the huge hall like walking through quicksand, sinking a little more any time another man or woman stopped her to chit chat, to ask her about her father and the bank and the next slot in her father's agenda.

As if she had any clue. As if her father had not dismissed any of her natural vocations  like wrong bills to be fed to the shredder only to make her study economics, only to frame her degree, and then instruct her himself to specialize in the sacred act of parading herself around like a rare stuffed creature.

“Here you are.” A hand slipped around her waist, and she found herself enveloped by two familiar hands. “I’ve looked for you anywhere.”

“Quentin.” She said, looking into the dark glinting eyes of Quentin Martell, slightly wrinkling her nose for the heavy male perfume in which he had apparently dunked his suit.

His eyes scanned her slowly, looking like he wanted to peel her dress off like an orange. “Always outshining anyone else, are you?”

She looked away, stifling an exasperated sigh, all too used to Quentin’s redundant flatteries.

“This party is dead, isn’t it? And rather self-celebratory from the Hightowers. As if they don’t owe their current position to Viserys Targaryen.”

She glanced at him and saw her father talking. It was one of his favorite refrains at breakfast, lunch or dinner. It made no difference to him. Any time was a good time to incense themselves as the best, the wealthiest, the proudest, and hundreds of more superlatives that made the food instantly go rancid in her mouth.

Distractedly, her eyes roamed around, numbing her ears while Quentin kept talking. It was then that she saw him. He had not left.

Holding a glass of some liquor, he seemed to be in deep conversation, or rather on the receiving end of a soliloquy from his grandfather, who was leaning slightly over him, almost talking to his ear.

His eye was absently buried to the floor, one long finger tapped against the glass. A couple of words she could not make from that distance slipped from his mouth, resigned as his whole demeanor.

She thought she was looking into a mirror.

“Honey, are you listening to me?” Quentin asked at some point, tightening the hold on her waist. “Who are you looking at so rapt?”

“No one.” she hurried to say. But Quentin was quicker to follow her gaze before she dropped it.  “Aemond One Eye?” he said on the verge of mockery. “Baby, he is so out of your league.”

She cocked her head and plastered a tight smile on her lips. “And precisely, what do you know about my league?” 

“You know what I mean. How blind can you be not to notice that your brother has been screwing your girlfriend behind your back for months? Oops, sorry, wrong metaphor.”

“Both the Baratheons and the Targaryens have denied it.”

“Sure, sure. Then why the Baratheons were not invited tonight? And why did the one eyed come? He never does. Oh wait, look at that, Aegon’s missing. Not surprising though, didn’t they say Targaryens used to fuck amongst their own in the old times?”

She lowered her gaze, lost in thought, and then turned her head, instantly widening her eyes, shoulders tensing when she saw Aemond looking straight at her, sipping his drink, straightening the cobweb’s thread on which she had been tottering until that moment.

“Baby, are you high again?” Quentin asked her, with a genuine, inquisitive tone.

“What?”

“You’re shivering. Greyjoy told me everything about that night. Said you went batshit crazy on coke. Depraved as he is, it’s actually a good thing that you OD’ed. That creep would have fucked you even that stoned.”

She immediately grabbed his arms, trying to wriggle out of his hold. “Let me go.”

“Oh, come on.” He nothing but hold her more tightly. “I know you like to get a little freaky once in a while. I do, too. In fact, why don’t we take a tour upstairs? We could cheer up this drag.”

“No. Quentin, let me go.”

“Come on.” He insisted, pulling her to his chest.

She had to step on his foot to shake him off. “Let me cut straight to the point. I won’t fuck you, Quentin. Not tonight, not even if you were the last man left on this earth.”

He grimaced, spitefully twisting his mouth like any man who's been denied the chance to feel like a man for a few minutes. “I had warned Greyjoy about this. I told him you’re a spoiled cunt. You know what? You should get with that Stark fag. He may fuck your ass, so maybe you’d feel something 'cause I’m sure as hell your cunt is drier than the Red Waste.”

The insults were also part of the play.

After all, the act might not please everyone in the stalls. “Just shrug them off. They’re praises, actually, disguised bitterly for what they cannot have.” her mother said “Besided, a lion does not concern itself with the opinion of the sheep.”

When she was younger, each bitter word was a giant finger pointed at her, a gavel sealing the next judgement. Her mother had tried with all her carelessness to teach her how to be exactly that. Careless, a river flowing in its direction no matter the filth that would pollute the waters.

But she was draining, ever since Pyke, perhaps long before that.

She was tired of pretending to be gold while her fingertips seemed to leave behind nothing else but ash.

Thank you so much for reading!! If you like to be tagged when I post part II, leave a comment below 🫶

[dynared]

So it looks like when all is said and done, Transformers One is going to potentially break even at best (general rule is to break even a movie must make back 2.5x its budget at the box office once percentages are taken by theaters and foreign market distributors), or more likely, lose money. The first Transformers movie to lose money at the box office as even Rise of the Beasts had some profit, even if it was lower than the height of the Bayverse's power.

So, what happened?

Well, I think the answer is a massive image problem for the franchise, with its direction incredibly muddled by multiple releases under the brand with wildly varying tones, on top of producer Lorenzo Di Bonaventura making things more complicated by refusing to let the previous Bayverse go, trying to tie everything back to it despite it being clear to just about everyone else that we're not going back to that continuity.

So on the one hand, you have really child-centric products like Earthspark, animated in such a way on Nickelodeon to tell you they're for kids, and then you have the live-action movies whose height of power was the Bayverse, high-octane action films with massive amounts of explosions and women in tank tops showing off their bodies. Over in the comics and print media front, you have the excellent-selling and Eisner-winning Energon Universe comics from Skybound, the same people who bought the world The Walking Dead and Invincible, with all the violence one would expect from those books. This is resulting in a massively confusing and segmented brand which most of the audience is just thinking "cartoon is for little kids, live action is for adults" because of the mixed messaging.

This isn't even the first time the franchise has had this problem, going back to Transformers Armada's debut in the early 2000s. The more mature Dreamwave adaptation of the show coupled with the fact that anime was the hip and new thing, on top of the increasing maturity of shows like Beast Wars and Beast Machines had older fans essentially expecting Gundam SEED and instead getting a "find the Minicons" adventure. But at least there, the massive toy sales and the success with the intended kids' audience overrode any concerns from older, wearier fans. Here, there was no such metric to point to.

At the end of the day, if One bombs, which is looking more and more likely (not to Megalopolis levels, but still a massive letdown all the same) it probably means a full on return to Michael Bay style Bayhem with explosions and scantily clad women. The only other alternative is a few years off at the box office, where Hasbro and Paramount regroup and refocus their ad strategy. If the Gundam and Voltron movies get made (the former unlikely, the second quite likely given set construction), even better since it gives Paramount an idea of how to adjust. But anyone hoping for a Transformers Two shouldn't hold their breath.

[merbear25]

hey hi! For the Halloween event can you do america x gn reader, carnival and fortune telling. Thanks! :D

Hello! Thank you for sending in a request for the event. I'm not sure what came over me, but I ended up writing something super fluffy, so I hope you like it! 💜🧡

A night filled with joy and laughter: there couldn’t have been a better way to spend it than with a special someone. The screams from those on the rides filled the air as you two strolled down the colorfully lit sidewalk. A faint glow appeared in the distance, catching your eyes and luring you in for the possible future it wanted to share with you.

CW: SFW, gn!reader, fluffy romance, established relationship

A glimpse at what’s to come (America)

The rain had turned into a light drizzle. Its tapping on the windows could have lulled you to sleep if you allowed it. However, your boyfriend’s constant rummaging through the closet pulled you out of the sleepy state with ease.

“What are you looking for exactly?” You called without bringing your cheek off your palm.

“Oh, just lost track of something…again.” The humph that followed as he continued digging through the mess in the drawers finally brought you away from the window.

“Well, let me help you.”

“No, don’t worry about it,” he waved off your offer with a smile. “Go get ready. The rain is letting up, so I think we can leave soon.”

The crisp autumn air and the lingering scent of rain in the dry air was one of your favorite parts of the season. Changing colors of trees lined your path towards the carnival. Despite the overcast making the day appear gloomy, the leaves were vibrant and your shared laughs were lively, making the day brighter than the sun could ever manage.

With the day setting, the carnival lights danced more prominently, illuminating the newly dark sky in soft rays. Your fingers laced with his as you got closer, knowing that the evening would be a night to remember.

“What’s that?” He pointed to a faint yellow-ish glow off to the side of the main event.

“I’m not sure.”

“Well, let’s go and see then!”

Drawing nearer to the object, the light shined down on the animatronic of an old man with a long curly mustache. In front of him was a display of cards spread out on his little table. The sign had burnt out but was legible. 

“The great Zoltar. Let your future be heard,” you read aloud. “Do you think it still works?”

“There’s only one way to find out,” Alfred chuckled while digging in his pocket for loose change. The coins fell with thuds in the old machine, and soon after a delay the animatronic was brought to life.

“So many want to hear of what will be but so few can handle it. Are you one of those few who can stomach what lies ahead?”

A ticket was spit out from the thin slot. Alfred took it and furrowed his brow at the script.

“Well? What does it say?”

“Looking in the face of fear can promise rewards beyond what money can buy.” A moment standing in front of the eerie machine sent a chill down your spine. Alfred shook his head, unable to decipher what it could be referring to. He took your hand in his again, his smile beaming as you journeyed on the damp leaves towards the main entrance.

Cotton candy shared between the two of you left for sticky, yet tasty pecks on the lips. You watched him toss rings around the bowling pins just barely skillfully enough to win you a stuffed animal, all while a sense of adoration washed over you. That small companion was kept nuzzled in your arms and against your chest as he guided you towards the large metal wheel that appeared to be increasing to unfathomable heights right before your very eyes.

“You know I don’t do well with these.” You tugged at his sleeve in timid protest.

“But the view will be so worth it once we’re at the top!” His eyes sparkled with excitement at having a look at the city from high up on the ferris wheel. Your reservations kept you glued to the pavement, and that look of your nerves eating away at your smile yanked at his heartstrings. He pulled you into his embrace and rested his chin on top of your head. “We don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

A long sigh drew out of you before you pulled away to look at him. “I’ll stomach the height for you but just this once.” You winked.

With a soft kiss being placed on your forehead, you then took your seat on the massive wheel. The metal bar clasped over you, sealing you in as the gentle sway of the contraption made your heart jump into your throat. Your grip tightened on the bar, but the gentle touch of his hand finding yours let it loosen slightly. His fingers laced with yours, pulling your attention to him as the city lights in the distance flickered.

“You were right,” you gestured to the lights behind him. “It’s beautiful from up here.”

“Yeah, it really is.” His tone fell and his words were shaky.

“Don’t tell me you’re the one getting cold feet now.” Your playful teasing didn’t stir much of a response from him. Instead, he reached for something in his pocket. His breath became shallow and a bit faster in pace as he turned towards you. Whatever was in his hand he had a death grip on it.

“I know you hate heights, but this just seemed like the perfect opportunity to ask you.” 

Your heart was pounding so loudly you weren’t sure if you heard his question correctly. ‘Will you marry me?’ left you speechless for a moment. You nodded slowly at first, then excitedly when his nerves settled and were replaced with a warm smile of relief. “Yes, yes, of course!”

Throwing your arms around him, the sway and tilt of the compartment did little to keep you from sealing your agreement with a kiss. The night sky twinkled with colorful lights which danced on your bodies as the ride took you back down to where you previously didn’t want to part, but now the suspension in the air couldn’t be long enough.

[lawlia-art]

Name: UTBS!Sans aka Black * Age: 35 * Height: 5'1'' (1,55m) * Birthday: 5 June (2023) Here it's a fictional character so everything is NOT real! Black has a bipolar disorder and a dissociative identity disorder (d.i.d.), it's not possible to have both. Usually for the d.i.d., the alters have different names, genders, ages, here it's only the personality that changed but some alters may prefer to be called by their real name (depressive states). RESET 160: During the 160th reset even if Sans will have many depressive episodes and manic phases, he still has the same personality as before in euthymic state. It's at the end of this reset that Sans will have a good or bad ending. In the good ending, he will no longer have bipolar disorder and the only difference with Classic Sans is in his appearance, his statistics and his health. But in the bad ending, his personality will become very unstable as he gains levels and he will also suffer from dissociative identity disorder. At level 20 in the euthymic state Sans/Black will have more of a neutral expression and will almost no longer feel any emotions. It's only in a depressive phase that he becomes "himself" again. UTBS!Sans/Black Euthymic/Manic Phase/Alter (lv20): This guy has a psychopatic personality (dark triad). He's very dangerous.. If you want to survive, show him that you can be useful to him and above all never upset him!! He's sadistic and will not hesitate to make you live your worse nightmare.This alter was born when Black reached level 20. He's the representation of all the hatred accumulated by Chara which made her soul black. Unlike the Manic and Manic/Depressive phases, this one does not consume much magic, his appearance is not limited and the others alters can't regain control. The only way is to use a tranquilizer injection. Fortunately it's frequency of appearance is very low BUT his body gets used to the product over time, which means that the doses must be increased. So, if no one can save him in time, it will no longer be possible to help him!! A happy ending is possible for him but Black needs to return to his timeline and he agrees to do a reset. His brother, his father and Frisk are looking for him. Papyrus/White is currently in the Omega Timeline. Gaster came into contact with the timeline parallel to his own to meet his double. Frisk asked Sans (Good ending) for help to save him.

I will complete this list of information as I go along! Additional information UTBS!Sans (resets 1 to 159): * Left-handed * Omnisexual * Has stick bugs *  Additional information UTBS!Sans (bad ending): * Ambidextrous * Omnisexual (can't have a romantic relationship) *

Undertale: Black Soul Timeline - summary: The Black Soul Timeline is an alternate timeline of the original set in the Undertale universe. There are two of them: one is the good ending and the other is the bad ending.  In both timelines, after Chara's death, her soul of determination was filled with hatred as she saw innocent children being killed. She thought the Monsters were different but she was wrong... Since then she wants to avenge them.  One day, a human named Frisk arrived, she possessed a powerful soul of dt similar to her own and was able to see her. Chara observed her during all her journeys. Frisk used her reset power to try save Asriel. At the 53rd reset, Chara offered to lend her her body so she could help save him. Frisk accepted but Chara lied to her, she didn't want to save Asriel but took advantage of her soul of dt to make the Monsters suffer. She couldn't do anything to stop her... During this same reset, the fun value was 66. At each start of reset before Frisk arrived, Sans worked on his father's latest creation, a machine which had the function of creating portals to different timelines or universes. For the first time he had managed to open a portal that led to the Void, that's how Gaster was able to warn him that Chara had taken possession of Frisk. Unfortunately for him he couldn't get able out the Void because it wasn't the "right" portal. So that Gaster could stay in contact with Sans, he gave him a fragment of his soul. It's thanks to this fragment that he will remember at each new reset what happened previously. Sans tried to find a solution to protect his brother and bring Frisk back with the help of Gaster but he didn't succeed. He gave up many times... it's his father who push him to persevere.  It is only at reset 159 that he will be able to stop Chara, but at what cost?... Gallery UTBS References

CREDITS: Undertale: Black Soul Timeline (c) LawliaArt Undertale (c) Toby Fox

[siremasterlawrence]

Superman: The Evolution of A Pussy

The fortress of solitude the impenetrable force of nature in the middle of the freezing cold ocean, Superman uses his x-ray vision to peer through the roof to see a strange old shadowy figure looming down over him and to see him. Clark Kent flew out of the vicinity in to the air as he is lifting higher in to the atmosphere as he reaches the man staring him down with such malice and Clark is astonished to see how this man’s nerve is breaking him in all kinds of ways he is grows unnerving more and more.The man smirks raising his hands in the air he summons of gust of whirls under him as it blows like a tornado it is surrounding the fortress and begins to shoot upward in to the sky launching it like rocket it aims up towards it hitting him head on as it sped in to space.

The man flew after him in to space as the tiny crater broke in to a million pieces as if hits Clark one at a time, the man watches his own destruction as each one glow with a heavy green tint landing on top of him he falls back to earth in a glorious display of power. Clark is unconscious as the man floating before him with a little effort of swinging his hand he shoves him to the side surrounding him by a green bubble covering him as they travel beyond the area and they head in to a new arena where I have began to plan it all. The man and the emerald bubble free falls to the deep, dank, and dark underground that I have built to harbor myself as well as others I have taken in to my aids to help me to take over the city and the world at my whim and I am madly in love with them all as my humble slave.

His lips are so tender as I place him on to the medical slab laid to rest in a massive blue lit bubble covering over the body encasing it as it lifts him upward in to the air and it is holding him in place as if spun him about preparing him for my minds control and I begin the process snappingup all of it.I walk to the edge of the room flipping on the light switch as the light shines on him, it is also shining on me as I step on to the machine entering the floor panel pad as the glass covers him and the glass shuts me in as it is locking me in to the space as it stirs on the air circles in swirling through the room. The air descending down upon us causing a rush as the energy burst in to my body with a electrical output that is sending my nerves to spiral crazily through my spine before shooting through the pad it lifts and dives right in to Superman’s body sending him unconscious.

“it is a Knight’s Tale programming.” I state as it commence.

“Reprogramming commences “

“Clark Kent! Can you hear me?”

“Yyyyeeeessss!”

“Do you know who I am?”

“That criminal that came to to…”

“What? Came to what?”

“I don’t remember…”

“Would you like my help?”

“I have no other choice “

“Yes or no”

“Begrudgingly yes!”

“You little shit”

“Please”

“That’s better “

“Your name is Clark Kent”

“Yes! Absolutely correct “

“You have been living a lie”

“No! I have not “

“Oh really? Last son of Krypton”

“Don’t call me that”

“Why not?”

“STOP PLEASE!”

“Feel my hand on the sides of your head and embrace it.”

“Feel my energy soul through you “

“Soul to soul exchange “

“You love me”

“I love you “

“Lois, Kara, your parents, your kids, and your clones.”

“You never loved them “

“I hate them”

“Increase the hate and accept it”

“I will kiss you, you will love it and succumb “

“Mmmm! Yes! Taste so good”

“I am your Master, Lord, God and everything else in your life.”

“Yes Daddy”

“Did you refer to me as”

“Yes daddy”

“Why?l

“Because I love you “

“I know only you “

“When I snap my finger you will wake up and kneel in submission “

“Yes Daddy”

The end

Captain America: A Centennial Criminal

Clark Kent Aka The Man Of Steel Superman The Last Son Of Krypton rose from the life less ash of his old life spread across the ground and swoops in the air as he rose to his full height in power and stood tall above me. He looks down in deference of his power compared to me his absolute ruler of his world, he peers down at me in other bliss with a smile washing on to me In excitement as he swoops up in his arms with a bright smile. Under my instructions for him he sprints up smashing through theceiling glass as it scatters to the ground as if it is raining and he speeds across to a very random research facility and begin to spin like a drill to the basement. Borrowing downward in spiral as the floors broke beneath him landing in a perfect spin

on the basement floor as the alarm system blares out, the red let radiating all over the hall covering the place in a dark red as a warning and Clark laughs seeing the signs up for hazardous area. He grabs it yanking it off of the wall as he crumbles it then threw it to the ground in a rage using his heat ray vision to burn it, the guard race down the hallway way to face him as he blast them with his heat ray and outstretches his arm forming a hole in them. Clark laughs like a lunatic sending them flying in to the wall of it as he blew past the wall he he shifts push his feet on to the wall as he shoves himself forward and launches in to the laboratory a deck below coming to a holt as he smashes through the glass.

He throws the glass window aside of him to reach out for the shirt as he grabs a frozen Steve Rogers like a popsicle stick inside of his pod and he flew in to the air one again smashes the ceiling flying back to my base with such accomplishment as he heads on home. He soars back him free falling to the ground causes a earthquake in his quake as he kneels down, placing Captain America In the pod as well flip another switch as he shuts down the area and he watches in to great delight and the machine gets to work for him. “He was unconscious when I arrive Master Lawrence!” Superman replies taking my hand in his as he leans down taking my hand even tighter as he kisses my hand up to my shoulders with so much love and lust in his eyes.

“The machine is all prepped Master”

“Commence boi”

“Watch his eyes go blue and roll back “

“His body begins to sink”

“Falling to the floor “

“In pain he aches “

“Mmmm! He is pleased”

“Sexual release?”

“Precisely “

“Oooooohhhhh”

“Do you hear me?”

“Ffffuuuucccckkkkkk”

“He is amusing Master”

“No Duh!”

“You are so thrilling “

“How so boi?”

“You forced me to succumb”

“Submit in to submission “

“Kneel at my feet “

“I love you Master”

“Can you hear me Steve?”

“Yes! I can hear you “

“I love you Steve “

“You love me too”

“Stop screwing up your face”

“You love me to…I know you “

“Yes! I love you too”

“I am your Master”

“You are my…no you lie”

“How can I?”

“I am your God!”

“Sir Yes Sir”

“I am touching your head and channeling you.”

“Accept my will”

“Yes! I accept “

“On to you feet”

“Sir Yes Daddy Sir”

The end

The end

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

He’s a grower.

Not that I’ve seen alot, but, yeah.

Btw do you feel like blessing us with a short Ettore reader smut in the future, one maybe not too dark please?

I've sat on this request for two weeks and now can't remember what the first part of your ask is in relation to, but it's definitely peen related lol This is my first time writing for a Ewan character that isn't Aemond, so I hope I do Ettore justice!

Warnings: Smut. Word count: ~1110 Part two Series masterlist

She sways on her feet, her legs threatening to give way beneath her as she loads red scrubs into the washer. She knows Dibs has been increasing her medication, likely giving her sedatives, as she can barely keep her eyes open.

Unsurprising, really, since she'd lashed out at the older woman the other day. Dibs was bound to do something to keep her in check following that little outburst, but how else could she have reacted? She needed to defend herself. The fertility experiments were getting increasingly barbaric in nature, and as the self proclaimed doctor had walked towards her with a syringe, she'd seen red and swung out with her fist.

Laundry duty feels like a Sisyphean effort. Each of her limbs seems like it is moving through treacle as she struggles to lift the bundles of dirty clothing. She drops what's in her arms to the floor, leaning heavily against the surface of the machine as her head swims.

Fuck, I'm going to pass out.

It's then that she feels him. The hardness of his chest and stomach presses against her back as she props herself up, struggling to stay conscious. She never hears him coming, he moves around the ship like a spectre, yet she can always feel him watching her. Ettore.

His warm breath fans across her neck as he towers over her.

"You look like shit." He murmurs.

"That bitch has drugged me..." She slurs in response. "...need to sleep."

"Need some company?" It would sound almost flirtatious, were it not for the fact that his fingertips were currently pressing painfully into her hip.

She attempts to force her elbow backwards to get him off of her, but her drowsiness causes her to stagger, falling back into him. He takes the opportunity to press his groin against her backside.

"Get off me!" She hisses, steadying herself on the washing machine once more. "I've got laundry duty."

He spins her to face him, gripping her by the upper arms. Her body poses no resistance to him, she simply does not have the wherewithal in her sedated state to fight back.

"Tell you what." He leers down at her. "I'll finish off laundry duty, so you can sleep. But I want a treat as payment."

The way he says the word "treat" makes her stomach roil. She knows exactly what he wants and ordinarily she'd tell him without hesitation to fuck off.

However, in her current state she knows she'd be stupid to refuse. She'd pass out, Ettore would do what he wanted to her regardless and then she'd get into even more trouble for not having finished her work duty for the day.

"Fine." She mumbles, staggering past him and making her way back to her bunk.

She does not see the predatory glint in Ettore's eye as he watches her go, before he turns to finish off the chore that she'd started.

***

A hand pushes up the fabric of the top half of her scrubs, fingers drag their way across the flesh of her abdomen, rousing her from her slumber. She has no idea how long she has been unconscious for, but her head still feels thick with sleep.

As her vision swims back into focus, she sees the blank expression of Ettore looming over her. It sends her crash landing the rest of the way into wakefulness, as she slaps his hand away with a shocked gasp.

"What are you doing?!" She demands angrily.

"I've come for my treat." His voice is soft, yet the sinister edge is unmistakable.

She groans, scrubbing a palm over her face as she remembers their deal from earlier.

"On your knees." He orders, righting himself to his full height.

She stares up at him, eyes wide with fright as her heart hammers in her chest.

"You won't like it if I have to ask twice." He threatens lowly.

She's not sure she likes it now, but she obeys, climbing from her bunk and dropping slowly to her knees in front of him.

His hands move to push down the front of his red polyester trousers, freeing his cock.

She recoils slightly. Due to her lengthy incarceration and the strict rules against fraternising between inmates on board, it has been a long time since she's seen the male form. Though she has little to compare it to, she knows he's big.

Hard, heavy and thick, his erection stands prominently at the apex of his thighs. Ettore smirks proudly down at her reaction, gripping the base with one hand and grabbing a handful of her hair with the other, to push her head forward. He taps the tip against her lips.

"It's not gonna suck itself."

The ironclad grasp he has on her hair leaves little room for argument. She takes a deep breath, steeling herself for what is to come next, then opens her mouth and takes him inside.

The head is sharp tasting against her tongue and she wonders if he will ever bottom out as he continues to push past her lips.

She splutters around him, fighting the urge to retch as he touches the back of her throat. She slaps at his thighs in a panic, yet he does not pull back.

"Breathe through your nose." He instructs, beginning to thrust in and out of her mouth, using his hold on the back of her head for leverage.

She does as he says, relaxing her jaw and hollowing her cheeks as he continues to use her for his own needs.

He groans at the sensation, his eyes hooded with pleasure as he stares down at her, his jaw slack and breathing ragged. She is surprised as her own core begins to throb, liquid warmth pooling between her legs and soaking the fabric of the crotch of her scrubs.

She is desperate for relief, clenching around nothing. Drool is puddling at the corners of her mouth and trickling down her chin. His assault on her mouth and throat is relentless, though she notices his hips begin to stutter as she swirls her tongue around the head of him.

She repeats the motion and he grunts, stilling as she tastes the first spatter of his release against her tongue. She is partially disgusted by the strangeness of it, yet it seems to serve to further ignite her own arousal. He remains sheathed between her lips until he is finished.

"Swallow." He says simply, not pulling out until he sees the bob of her throat as she does as instructed.

He tucks himself away before turning to leave.

"Wait!" She calls out. "What about me?"

He shrugs, regarding her coldly. "Not my problem. Use the box."

[portsandstars]

I recently got an ask about how I made my Vere cosplay, so I thought I'd write an (overly descriptive) explanation about what I did! Note that I have very minimal sewing and cosplay experience, so it's quite possible that there are many better ways to achieve the same look.

If you're interested in recieving the pattern that I used, please DM me, and I'll send you the files. Note that the pattern is only made to my measurements(I am very tall and small chested) and I have also altered the pattern after working with it some, though not altered the PDF.

Some of my explanations won't be the most clear, I'm happy to explain more in the comments or dms- I'm just limited on the number of pictures:)

Below the readmore because u guys this is going to be a bit exhaustively long :>

The pattern pieces for the top

I got a pattern after commissioning someone on Fiverr for about $60 dollars (let me know if you want their contact info). They were not very interested in reference photos and instead wanted me to sketch the garment I needed. I made a mock-up in a day after receiving the pattern files (took me about 8-10 hours lol). I requested a few edits from the pattern maker and recieved a second pattern. From there, I made multiple mockups and edited the PDF pattern to:

- shorten the smallest sleeve

- increase the curve of the front shirt edge

- add an unofficial collar band to increase collar height

- change the angle of the piping seam to enter the armhole at much more of a slanted angle

- increase the height and shape of the side waist openings (they are still lower than is accurate).

- add a sleeve gusset bc I couldn't move my arms (the sleeves are still tough, I'd recommend altering the dark purple sleeves if you make this)

- making the floatly sleeves way more voluminous.

Here are some photos of the top. I bought a crotch snap bodysuit premade and cut it after someone helped me pin the top to it. This is to help keep the top "tucked in" to the belt without bunching, while still allowing you to go to the bathroom. There need to be snaps because I taped the top to my skin, so you don't want to pull the top off your shoulders as you would a romper.

Ok, now let's see where the pattern pieces go to the shirt:

Fabric

I used a satin fabric for this top. I chose this primarily because it looked the closest to the right color that I could find (rather than being interested in the sheen). I'd say that it kinda sucked to work with because it frays exceptionally easily, though it does look pretty. The lilac fabric is a cotton fabric that I used throughout this project to add weight and stability - the color doesn't matter. I also used a medium weight black fabric (?), Silver pleather, and lightweight interfacing.

- back of the garment was purple satin underlined with lilac cotton

- front (orange) piece was purple satin with lightweight iron on interfacing

- collar (blue) was purple satin with the lightweight interfacing not in the seam allowances.

- front (red) piece was purple satin, iron on interfacing, and underlined lilac cotton.

- black boarder on the front (green) was a thick black fabric that was in a discount bin. Highly recommend you use a thin black cotton because the thickness of this fabric gave me a lot of trouble. Interfaced the center of these pieces.

- facings for the side opening (front and back of garment) were made from the lilac fabric and interfaced with lightweight interfacing EXCEPT for the seam allowance.

- tiny sleeve (yellow) was interfaced to give it structure, but not in the seam allowances

- I really struggled with the tension on my machine so I never sewed the satin alone. On the long, dark purple sleeves I added iron on interfacing ONLY to the seam allowance to give the seam stability so I could sew it.

- the silver piping around the collar and glued onto the front is made from a silver pleather. On one hand, this sucked to work with because my strategy involves sewing through ~10 layers of it at least, which is very hard(thimble needed). BUT, If you don't use silver pleather, I'd say your silver fabric MUST NOT FRAY for you to use the techniques I used.

STEPS TO CONSTRUCT (~30-40 hours).

You definitely need to make a mock-up unless you are very experienced. I made about 4-6 (would alter one sleeve but not bother changing the other, etc).

1. Cut all pieces except for facings, black boarder, and floaty sleeves out of purple satin.

2. Cut cotton support fabric for the following pieces - back, red, gussets, side facings (4 total)

4. Cut black boarder/facing (4 total).

3. Cut and iron on interfacing - center of collar, red (not seam allowance), orange (not seam allowance), tiny sleeve (not seam alloance), black boarder/facing- only needed on the outside ones(not seam allowance). Interfacing for the side facings. If you have issues with sewing the satin, also iron on interfacing on the seam allowances, and add it to purple satin that is alone (the long sleeves).

4. Baste all underlining fabric to the purple satin by hand (back, sleeve gusset, red).

5. Stay stitch in the seam allowance all pieces

6. Zigzag stitch all pieces.

7. Lay the lilac side facing on top of the right side of front orange piece, interfacing of the facing touching the right side of the fabric. Sew together along the inner curve. Notch the seam allowance here so it can bend easier. Flip facing to the wrong side of the garment. Iron flat. Pull the notches to the facing side and understitch. Iron again. Sew the top and bottom of the facing edges into the seam allowance of the side seam of the garment and the hem of the garment so they don't flop as much. Do the same thing on the the second orange piece (mirrored). Then do this twice, once for each side curve on the back piece.

8. Yayyy now it's time to attach the black edge. Choose your prettiest of the two of each mirrored piece to be the outside ones. Hem the longer edge of all 4 black facing pieces. Lay the facing, right side facing up, on top of the right side of the orange piece along the front hem. Sew directly on top of your hemming stitches so it is attached about an inch in. Try to not go out of the hem stitches at all. Then, lay a second facing on TOP of the facing u just sewed, wrong side facing up. Sew along the edge through all three layers. Notch this seam. Flip the top facing to the inside of the garment and iron flat. Understitch the inside facing. Iron again. Sew along the black facings inside the seam allowance of the top edge of the orange piece. Below are my notes to myself about this if they would help you LMFAO.

9. U can hem the orange piece now if you want to, I chose to not bc there is sooo much more stuff to do!!

10. Hand baste the red piece to your completed/with facings orange piece along the bottom edge of the red piece/top of orange. You're gonna have to rip this out later but you need to add the collar and measure the length of the piping that will go here and it needs to be attached to do this.

11. attach the back of the top at the shoulder seam. you can also pin or baste the side seams now under the arm hole but note that the size will be really different here with the sleeve gores later added. this turns it into a vest yayy its taking shape

12. iron all the seams u got going on

13. Hem the interior edge of the red pieces so that the collar can attach over it. Use a basting stitch bc you're going to have to undo part of this later 🙃

13. make the collar. tbh I'd recommend watching a tutorial for this, it is pretty similar to any men's dress shirt, especially a mandarin collar. sew the collar along the neckline of the garment.

14. Measure from the side seam under the arm, along the hem of red all along the back collar, to the other side seam under the other arm to see how long your piping needs to be. You can make it a bit longer than it needs to be. i chose to use piping because I couldn't find a silver cord that resembled this detail going around the collar of his shirt, and this seemed like the best solution. It would be far easier to use a silver cord if you can find it tho :). If you found cord that you liked, you could simply sew red to orange directly.

15. make the piping! This whole part is the worst part of the whole garment. You should have a thimble and strong handsewing needles. And probably pliers to pull the needle through. I cut long strips 4 of the silver pleather and bought 2 mm wide nylon cord. I then folded the strip around the cord and handsewed really close to the cord with white thread. You could machiene sew this but personally I found that it wasn't "tight" enough to the cord for me. Two of the piping strips you should cut most of the seam allowance off, the other two should be a normal amount of seam allowance on the piping.

16. Line up your 4 piping strips into a stack and measure across them to determine their width. You next want to create the ILLUSION of more piping. The way I did this was I took a wider strip of silver, the width of the 4 piping strips + one hypothetical extra piping on the top and one on the bottom and cut a strip this wide + lots of extra seam allowance that was about the length of the shirt collar. Then, I hemmed it deeply, so my hem stitches would be close to the center of the strip. There's NO cord in this piece. Then, I hand sewed this flat piece to the collar of the shirt.

17. Next, I bent my piping strips in half and marked the center points on each with a pin. I took one with long seam allowance and laid it flat so the seam allowance lay facing right, and then laid the other piping with seam allowance overlapping the previous piping facing left. Then the piping with very small seam allowance goes on top of this. Diagram crossection below, with the circles representing the cord of the piping, and = representing the orientation of the seam allowance.

O O

O=====

======O

In this way, the piping can be sewn into a continuous strip that is sturdy, without the seam allowance showing. I handsewed the piping pieces together, working from the center, for about 5 inches of length, snaking sideways through the cording of the piping with white thread so it's joined into one continuous strip. Then, I began to handsew this piping to the collar on top of the silver flat fake piping that u already sewed there. Make sure the center of the piping goes to the center of the collar. From there, you alternate handsewing the piping to itself into one continuous strip, and then handsewing it to the collar.

18. As you work, you're going to have to sew it along the edge of the red piece once you're done with the collar. You can initially sew it to the hem that you established before on the red piece. However, when the red piece meets the orange piece (at the black fabric) you need to undo the hem of the red piece there and cut a slit in the fabric (visible below). This is because the hem of the red piece now needs to hang down and attach to the orange piece, so you need the material. Your piping here will go between the red and orange pieces. You also need to cut your basting stitches here so u can sew it for real. You should gradually and evenly spaced - end each line of piping along the top of the orange, so that by the time you're at the armhole, only one piping line is remaining. I chose the bottom silver line on the collar to be my longest piping strip, as this matches (more) of the reference photos). Rather than sew through all 12- 14 layers (...) I found it easier to do a stairstep method. I sewed my first piping strip to the red, then I sewed my second piping to the first piping(but NOT to the red), my third piping to the second, my fourth to the third, and my orange piece to the fourth. Throw in some stitches that bridge more layers as a failsafe and be diligent here bc the structure of the garment depends on it lol.

19. Fantastic ! U made it through the hardest part! Hem the long purple sleeves. Gather the top of the floaty sleeves. Sew the inner seams of the floaty sleeves. Sew the inner seams of the 2 long sleeves together. Leave the length of the V of the gusset unsewed at the top of the sleeve seam. Hem the edge of your tiny sleeves (yellow).

Now you need to attach the sleeves. I sewedthe gauze to half the gusset by hand first. Next I handsewed the gusset to both the long sleeve and the floaty sleeves, leaving the other V half of it unattached to later put into the side seam under the arm. Next I pinned all three sleeves into the armhole of the top. Tbh ... The size of the armhole seemed wrong so I needed to pleat the top of the of the long sleeve to make it fit (😐). Then I handsewed all three sleeves on each side into the arm hole, and then sewed the gusset into the side of the garment, and then finished the side of the top's seam (where the side facings meet) by hand too. I think it'd be possible to do this by machiene but with all the layers, gathering, and difficult corners from the gusset, it was way easier to handsew it imo. Now do the other sleeve wow so fun

20. Get a silver ribbon /string and handsew the sleeve decorations in place. I've found that piercing the silver cord tends to make it get ugly and split so instead I sewed the ends down and then went around the cord like belt with belt loops. Leave a tiny amount of give here so it doesn't strangle ur arm. Try and make the other sleeve the same lol.

21. Cut EVA foam (very thin mm foam) into LONG strip for the vertical silver detailing. Handsew the Eva foam to your top where the silver detailing is. Honestly I might wait to do this until your belt is done bc the position of the bottom half of these lines depends on where your belt sits. But, the purpose of the Eva foam is that it provides a solid base for your silver fabric to glue to that will bend with the garment well and the glue won't stiffen or distort your fabric. Afterwards you'll glue it to the foam with contact cement or fabric glue (needs to be able to flex).

22. Personally I sewed snaps that connect to the chest harness on the inner black boarder because 1) this allows a bit of the weight of the harness to be taken off of your neck/collar, and 2) allows your top to be held closer to your body (lower chance of flashing people). Make sure to only sew them to the interior black facing, not showing to the other side. I also sewed tacking stiches through the interior facing (hidden in the hem stitching) to hold the interior black facing down. My harness was waistband elastic, stabilized with cotton so it's not stretchy, with velcro attaching to itself through the ring. So each side of the harness at the ring is velcro folded back onto itself after being looked through the ring.

23. I also sewed the snap crotch thing to it. You need to wear the top and the body suit and have someone pin the top so that it's pulled somewhat taut by the bodysuit. The small section between the left and right side of the top (by the bellybutton) of the waistband of the bodysuit I stabilized with cotton again because you don't want that part getting stretched out and widening over time. If you're someone who maybe doesn't have boobs or doesn't care about flashing people, you could just sew it to some shorts. The idea here is to keep it held down AND be able to use the bathroom later WITHOUT pulling all ur fashion tape off in the stall and then reapplying it each time.

Look here for the part two (belt/skirt explanation).

[pinturas-gran-guerra-aire]

1918 01 30 SE5 McCudden victories 45 and 46 - Mark Postlethwaite

On 30 January 1918 - a bright winter's morning - No 56 Sqn ace Capt James McCudden took off alone at 0945 hrs. The previous day the engine of his SE 5a had been fitted with high compression pistons, and McCudden hoped that they would sufficiently increase the power of his Hispano-Suiza 8B motor to enable him to catch and engage the enemy's high-flying. Maybach-powered, Rumpler Cs. After two unsuccessful engagements involving a Hannover C over Bullecourt and five Albatros scouts south of Vendhuille. McCudden saw five more German fighters climbing for height above Anneux. Determined as ever to follow his own dictum 'to destroy as many as possible of the enemy at the least risk and casualties to one's own side', the veteran ace waited until the aircraft had reached 14,000 ft before using a 5000-ft height advantage to dive on them; 'Down I went, and very quickly got behind the leader, into whom I fired a burst at very close range. He at once went down vertically, with pieces of three-ply wood falling off his fuselage. and he was seen to strike the ground by our "Archie" gunners. I hadn't time to watch him, as I was fighting four more scouts now and had my attention fully occupied. However, I got into position behind a Plalz, and after a short burst from the good old Vickers he went down in a spiral dive and crashed also.' The remaining three enemy scouts, in McCudden's own words 'now evinced signs of alarm'. He fired at another Albatros. which spun away, but was then attacked by a second machine from behind. McCudden quickly reversed the positions. got onto the tail of the Albatros and opened fire. but after only a short burst both guns stopped - his Lewis gun was out of ammunition, and the the belt of his Vickers had broken. McCudden now felt 'awfully brave'·, and realising the remaining Albatros and Plalz were 'awfully dud', stayed to fight them, chasing the scouts south of Cambrai before heading home. The leader of the formation. Vfw Adam Barth of Jasta 10. flying Albatros D V 4565/17 was killed, whilst the pilot of the Plalz- McCudden's second victory of the day, and his 46th overall - survived the crash

[b1scu1tb1tes]

hey N do ever feel like uzi's insecure about her height if so lets give her this has machine guns for hands but instead of bullets it's missiles that come out and it will increase her physical strength and height tenfold -the R.Y.N.O (Rip.You a.New.One) salesman

Woah.. I’ll take it! Uzi would be unstoppable heheh..heh..heheheehheheh..

[hirocimacruiser]

●CEFIRO (A31) Autech version

●Overall length x overall width x overall height: 4690 x 1695 x 1375mm Wheelbase: 2670 mm ●Tread (F/R): 1460/1455mm Vehicle weight: 1400kg

Engine: RB20DET water-cooled inline 6-cylinder DOHC turbo 1998cc Maximum output:225PS/6000rpm Maximum torque: 30.0kg-m/2800rpm Suspension Front (F/R): Strut/Multilink Brake (F/R): V disc/V disc Price: 3,393,000 yen (5MT)

BUYER'S MEMO

Market price rises due to popularity of drifting

Due to the popularity of drifting and the so-called "oni camp", the used car market price for the A31 Cefiro, which has become popular as a base car with such specifications, seems to have gone up. Of these, the most popular is the twin-cam turbo sports cruising model. As far as this grade is concerned, 1.2 million yen is still a ridiculous amount. Additionally, unfortunately, there are fewer cars in normal state.

The Autech version, which is the vehicle we photographed this time, is produced in extremely low numbers, so even if you can find a good one, it will definitely be quite expensive.

PIC CAPTIONS

By adding a large turbine to the RB20DET and changing the cam and port shapes, it produces 225PS, an increase of 20PS.

The genuine leather-wrapped steering wheel that fits comfortably in your hand is made by Italvolante, Italy. This is also an equipment exclusive to Autech.

Aluminum wheels made by PIAA exclusively for the Autech version Cefiro

The size is 6JJ x 15, which is the same as the normal one.

Autech version exclusive emblems attached to the left and right sides of the front fender.

Carefully tanned Connolly leather

The seat is fully equipped with adjustment mechanisms such as dual lifters and lumbar support.

Exclusive seat and door trim made from genuine leather made by British company Connolly, which has a luxurious feel and has been used on many famous European cars and luxury cruise ships.

A trunk with a mechanism that turns into a tray and armrest when folded down. Also trunk hood

A special rear spoiler is installed.

The same rear multi-link suspension as the Silvia is made up of multiple links and ideally controls tire movement according to road conditions. The basic movements of running, turning, and stopping exhibit extremely high levels of grip.

Demonstrate your ability to move.

Early type sports touring. After MC in 1992, all cars were 2.5 liters with 3 number plates.

Since the Autech version was also slightly changed after the first MC, there are two types: an early type and a mid-term type.

MAIN TEXT TRANSLATION.

Our Standard Neo Historic Jays

Anti-high-soccer cars that bring a new sensation

Cefiro is a car that is often seen in towns and mountain passes with a strong negative camber and is considered to be a representative example of a demon-camber spec car. Nowadays, we have a strong image of such a drift machine, but when it was first announced, it had a very different impression. Under the catchphrase ``Kuneru Asobu,'' the product was sold with a strong personality and a unique coordination system that appealed to the new sensibilities of urban comfort enthusiasts. Eventually, as this new sensation wore off, another side began to attract attention. Well-made suspension with multi-link + HICAS-II, high-power engine, and FR...

Text: Yoshio Ishikawa Photography: Hiroyuki Matsuoka Vehicle cooperation: Kenichiro Takashima

A new sensation sedan introduced during the Mark II's heyday.

Today's sedans are said to be ``sluggish'' due to being pushed around by buskers and the like, but 10 years ago it was often said that sedans were enjoying the spring of the world in the mid to late 1980s. I was in a situation where I was.

Among these, the upper middle class has seen particularly rapid growth. This must have been an expression of the consciousness that all 100 million people are middle class. Under the name High Society, the popularity of the white Mark II continues to grow.

He was showing great strength.

It has a sense of class that will make you look good wherever you go, and the equipment is full of Toyota's hospitality. Armed with this feeling of ``I can feel safe with this,'' the Mark II is my father's favorite. It received a lot of support not only from users of different generations, but also from young male users who wanted to be popular with girls. No. 2 Nissan was the one most anxious about the Mark II's dominance. The R31, which debuted in 1985, shifted the Skyline, which had gained a fixed fan base due to its sports orientation, to a luxury route. We carried out major reforms.

However, this makeover ended up being a failure.

Waru. Therefore, Nissan came up with the next step, which was to create a clear model compared to the Mark II/Chaser/Cresta, which differed only in design taste.

The method was to pit three cars with different personalities against each other. The first stage of this was its debut in September 1988.

This is the first generation Cefiro that was visible. Incidentally, Nissan would later launch the Laurel in December and the R32 Skyline in May of the following year, completing the upper middle three-car alliance.

What is difficult here is the character of each car.

That's it. As for the existing models Skyline and Laurel, the former is a return to and evolution of a sports saloon, while the latter is a re-proposal of the luxury sedan model with a slightly defective essence sprinkled on it. The problem is the new model Cefiro, which is a new model whose core users are relatively young people in their early 30s.

It was positioned as a sensational sedan.

The focus is on style and packaging.

What's new about Cefiro?

Multi-link suspension adopted at the rear,

DUETIS S with integrated control of supersonic suspension and electronically controlled power steering, HICAS-II 4WS with maximum turning angle of 1 degree.

The focus is on style and packaging.

What's new about Cefiro?

Multi-link suspension adopted at the rear,

DUET-S S with integrated control of supersonic suspension and electronically controlled power steering, refinement of HICAS-II 4WS mechanism with maximum turning angle of 1 degree. There were many points of interest in terms of mechanics, such as the straight-six RB engine that achieved sharp response due to its improved performance but what stood out most of all were the styling and packaging. Although it was a sedan, its rounded design, which resembled a monoform rather than a three-box design, was innovative and seemed to be a direct commercialization of the direction Nissan had proposed at the motor show with its concept cars CUE-X and ARC-X. The basic packaging is long and low nose/short and high deck, which is typical of European cars, but what was new about Cefiro was that it didn't emphasize this too much and unified the whole car with a softer image.

Details such as projector headlamps being adopted as standard for the first time, this collection of lights, and rear combination lamps placed in continuous black garnishes on the left and right sides emphasize a new sense of style. In any case, the Cefiro had an exterior that made you think, ``Wow, this is a sedan with a shape that has never been seen before.''

Also, the grade is “Cefiro Coordination "

He developed a unique method called "coordination." All engines are 2-liter inline 6-cylinder, but cars equipped with SOHC RB20E are used for town riding, cars equipped with DOHC RB20DE are used for touring, and DOHC+ turbo RB20DET specifications are used for sports driving.

Three types are available under the name Lusing. There are two types of suspension: DUET-S S is comfort and HICAS-II is sports. Additionally, three interior styles are available: dandy, elegant, and modern, and you can choose any combination of these.

It had become a system.

9 body colors and 2 types interior

If you include the interior base colors that have been set, there are over 900 combinations, which is amazing. The Cefiro Coordination, a ready-made choice system, is said to be a great weapon for people in their 30s who are particular about comfort in their lives and are particular about food, clothing, and housing.

The production team must have calculated this.

Yosui Inoue's TV commercial ``How are you all?'' and the catchphrase ``Kuneru Asobu,'' which seems obvious but is not very clear, also helped to attract attention, and Cefiro quickly became a popular model immediately after it's appearance. The Cefiro was certainly groundbreaking at the time, offering a new design and the natural beauty of its styling as the antithesis of the upwardly mobile, high-speed car line . However, because its freshness was its selling point, there was a strong tendency for it to become a trendy product, and although at one point the three-car alliance was steadily increasing the number of units sold, it gradually became less popular.

Cefiro slows down. In 1992 in addition to widening the body with moldings and installing a 2.5L engine, minor changes were made to the the design in the direction of diluting its characteristics, and although it ended up being a car with a long lifespan of 6 years, it fell into a rather obscure state in its final years.

The second generation, which appeared in 1994, was integrated with the Maxima and transformed into a full-fledged three-number FF saloon.

Although it lacks the strong individuality and new proposals of the first generation, it continues to exist today as a popular model that maintains the basics.

However, the interesting thing about the first-generation Cefiro is that in recent years it has suddenly come into the spotlight as a handling machine for the mountain passers. Touring manual transmissions, which were an overwhelming minority at the time, fetched unusually high prices, and people finally replaced ATs with manual transmissions.

It even created a movement to convert. The most important factor behind its popularity is the affordable price of a used car, but I think that behind its popularity is the freshness and youthfulness that the original Cefiro still has.

It is analyzed that the effect is small.

A sporty saloon where you can seriously enjoy FR

Now, it's been a long time since I've faced Cefiro.

faced. Secretly “oni campaign”

I was scared that someone would come.

However, the test car was the Autech version that was released in January 1990. This is a special Cefiro based on the sports cruising model of RB20DET+HICAS-II, which has a +20PS power increase using a ball bearing turbo, harder suspension, full aero parts, and a Connolly leather seat.

The price is nearly 800,000 yen higher than the normal model, which is why the initial monthly sales target was 30 of them, so how rare is this model?

I know it's Del.

I have no recollection of test driving this Autech version when it was new, so this will be my first experience. Compared to normal sports cruising, the engine power is clearly superior, and although it seems that the effective boost rises at a slightly higher rpm, it is truly powerful from around 350O rpm to the rev limit of 7500 rpm. This time it was an AT specification, and this one is also set to take advantage of the engine's characteristics to pull the car to its limit. As you might expect, the shift shock is quite large, and if you drive like this all the time, the load on the AT will be considerable.

I'm worried that this will happen, but anyway...

The speed of a modern 2-liter sports sedan

There is no big difference when compared to.

As a high power FR with great driving abilityit is quite stable. So that's why you can attack to the fullest.

Drift machine with demon camp specifications

This image may make the Cefiro seem frivolous, but the true nature of this car is that it is a sporty FR saloon that was built with great seriousness. Therefore, I seriously want to master the movement of FR without making any strange modifications.

This is the perfect machine for those who

want do this.

Tester Yoshio Ishikawa

When the era name changed from the Showa era to the Heisei era, a boom in self-restraint began, led by the line "How are you?" in a Cefiro commercial. The role of Yosui is played by Yoshio, who looks good in sunglasses. the female driver next door

Ichi is a rock-paper-scissors girl who is rumored on the street.

[syn4k]

"You've died two times already?" Gem asked in disbelief, eyebrow raised, arms folded.

It was a beautiful summer's day, with clouds piled up like stacks of wool against the horizon and a faint sea breeze trickling in from the north. Fwhip's machines ticked along faithfully in the back, a constant hum that had helped him sleep since he'd gotten used to it, but the man himself was unfortunately nowhere near as composed. Under Gem's smoldering (perhaps literally if she got mad enough) glare, he fidgeted and kept his eyes on the ground.

"Maybe a little," he said with a weak grin, one hand pushing back his hair.

Gem was not impressed. "A little?" she asked. "Fwhip. We have been here for three weeks maximum and you've already died twice. That puts you on par with Jimmy of all people. Jimmy."

"Listen, okay," said Fwhip, squaring up and crossing his arms as well, going on the defensive although still clearly nervous. "I am not a clever man. You know this."

"I do," agreed Gem. She flicked one fiery strand of hair behind her back with a flick of the finger and a shake of her head. "I'm still absolutely amazed at your ability to mess up this badly, though."

"First time was... uh," said Fwhip, counting on his fingers. "I forgot."

"You died and then forgot about it," said Gem, deadpan.

"Yes. Now the second time," said Fwhip, putting another finger up and trying to ignore the heat rising around him, "I was a bunny. And then I lost my balance and hopped backwards off of a roof."

"What?"

"I repeat, I am not a clever man," said Fwhip, putting up both hands in defeat. "Some may even call me a grade-A idiot."

Gem snorted. "Is that your title now?" she asked. "Sir Fwhip, highest in the grade of idiots?"

"Yes!" said Fwhip, standing up on his tiptoes to better look her in the eyes and folding his arms again. "In fact, some may even call me a peer-reviewed idiot."

"Peer reviewed by who?" asked Gem curiously.

"Uh," said Fwhip, looking to the side. "Myself."

"And?"

"And the sky, I guess. Come on, Gem, we don't need to have an entire council voting on whether I'm clumsy or not!" Fwhip looked back at her, noting with relief that the air had cooled down once again. "We all know the answer to that one."

"True," said Gem thoughtfully. "I'll peer review it. You are an idiot." She patted his head, and Fwhip stepped back a few paces. "Easy on the touch," he said. "I've been working on redstone lately."

"I can tell," said Gem, wiping her hand off on her dress. "Your hair's greasy."

"And speaking of redstone," Fwhip continued quickly, trying to segue into another subject before Gem could berate him for dying so fast.

"No, let's not," said Gem with a cheerful smile, looking from the sky to back down at him. She knelt a little, and the summer air increased in intensity by about a million factors. Behind Fwhip, he could hear metal shriek and groan, and he shot a panicked glance backwards to see the metal casings and shafts of his crop farmer melting where they stood. Wires overheated and started to spark.

"If you die again," said Gem, just as cheerful, "I'll kill you." She booped his nose, and Fwhip winced. That was definitely going to leave a burn later. "Got it?"

"Gem, my redstone-" he said desperately.

"Got it?"

Fwhip looked in her eyes and nodded vigorously, just trying to get her to back off. "Yes," he said, walking backwards. "No more dying. Won't do that anymore. Nope." Gods, those machines were going to take forever to fix.

"Great!" said Gem, standing back up to her full height again. "Have fun with your redstone, Fwhip!" And with that, she walked off, leaving one extremely confused and incredulous man and a slag heap of melted alloys in her wake.

"Jesus Christ," Fwhip muttered to himself, taking his sweat-stained hoodie off and wiping his hair back from his eyes as he turned around to survey the damage. "That was like, a week of work!"

"Sucks to suck, I guess," said a smug little voice from somewhere nearby, somewhere probably near his feet.

"Shut up, Oli."

[cold-heart-warm-writings]

Passing a birthday with the Host Club is over the top. They don’t do the most - they do the absolute max out on all their fancy rich people cards. 

Haruhi just wants a fun quiet event with snacks, a few decorations, and maybe some fancy tuna if it’s a big birthday. (Naturally, Haruhi does not get this. She’s kidnapped for a day of festivities, and even her dad lets the Host Club have their way because he’s invited to the dinner feast. The local sea area is now out of tuna, fancy and regular.)

Kyoya rents out an entire island so he can buy a quiet day and relax by himself with NO MAYHEM. Of course, Tamaki still finds him, but it was a blissful 43 minutes. 

Honey throws a cake tasting party, flying in the British Bake Off hosts and participants for a “British Bake Off… in Japan!” special episode. He, and the friends he invites, are the ones who decide on the winners. 

Hikaru takes over an entire building for a giant, full day, Hunger Games style, paintball battle. Doctors are on hand, and this year, only two people needed to be rushed to the hospital. 

Mori rents out the zoo. Not in a “have your birthday party here!” kind of way, but doors are closed, peasants return home, it’s just me and my besties chilling with the animals and feeding them all the snacks. The twins are the reason why all zoos have increased the required height of railings to be higher. 

Kaoru would also want to do some crazy outdoor activity paired with something chill. Think skydiving or bungee jumping, and then once you realize the shortness and fragility of life, there’s a private art lesson with a famous painter at the largest art museum in Tokyo. 

Tamaki’s birthday is like 10 separate parties all crammed into one day. First, there’s a dress up cosplay event. Second, roller blading. Third, bowling. Fourth, amusement park rides and games. Fifth, food, drinks, and decorate your own cake. Yes, an entire cake for each person and any color and flavor and type of sprinkles you could possibly imagine. Sixth, build your own bear. He bought one of the build a bear machines, and it now lives in his house. Seventh, karaoke and photo shoot with everyone and their new bears. Eighth, movies with everyone and their bears. Ninth, pinatas. Plural. However many branches there are in the surrounding area, there are pinatas. And it’s not regular sized or cheap ass fun sized mini bars, nah man, nothing less than KING sized candy bars for our king. Tenth, PRESENTS! It’s not until just before midnight when you are finally released and allowed to return home.

[lets-try-some-writing]

How would Wheeljack and Ultra Magnus react to the changes that Unicron inflicted on the bots in Altered Reality?

Poorly. Very poorly. Link to original post here

Wheeljack

Wheeljack liked to consider himself pretty open to just about anything. He could get along with almost anyone so long as they weren't an aft and didn't go on genocidal murdering sprees. However even with this open-mindedness, he still very nearly pulled his blasters on the team when he came back from one of his missions after their transformation.

He hardly recognized them, only believing that they weren't ghouls, spark eaters, or something of the like because of Ratchet who managed to convince Wheeljack that they were in fact who they said they were. Even then, Wheeljack refused to go anywhere near the most monstrous of the team for over a week, sticking to Ratchet like glue.

He found that after he calmed, Arcee wasn't all that bad. She was like an insecticon, and therefore in a way familiar enough to not put him on edge. Her emotional state was concerning to say the least, but she was reasonable to be around and he even went out of his way to make her sheathes for her blade like appendages. She appreciated the gesture greatly and very nearly cried when he also presented her with a battlemask that would cover her mandibles and had resemblances to Cliffjumper's helm structure.

It took a little bit to get used to Bulkhead mainly because he was like a mini Fortress Maximus. But once he adjusted to his companion's newfound height and increased weapons systems, he got along with Bulkhead just fine. They talked and raved over Bulkhead's new weapons and overall had a grand time testing them out and enjoying the fact that the changes (for Bulkhead at least) turned out to be for the better. More than once Wheeljack plopped on down on Bulkhead's shoulder, being just big enough to sit comfortably as he stared down at the rest of the team save for Optimus who somehow managed to be taller.

Ratchet was also very easy to adjust to being around. Wheeljack had exactly zero issues with the medic and even offered up some sanding materials if the medic wanted to smooth out the sharp edges of his new armor. Ratchet begrudgingly accepted it and while he never said anything out loud, Wheeljack noticed how the jagged bits of plating had been smoothed enough for the human children to sit on Ratchet's shoulders again. To Wheeljack's surprise, Ratchet even went out of his way to remain around Wheeljack more so than the others. He didn't understand for months until it slipped that Ratchet's ability to note weaknesses was far less debilitating when he was with Wheeljack, hence the medic's desire to remain by his side.

Bumblebee was a lot harder for Wheeljack to adjust to being around. The scout was downright terrifying and tended to make a habit of hanging around in the rafters to watch those below him predatorially. His ominous clicking and biolights were highly distracting and left Wheeljack constantly on edge. He almost tried to blast Bumblebee the first time the scout used clips of his own voice to get his attention. He only stopped in time because Ratchet pulled him back while Bumblebee scurried up the wall like a scraplet and fled into the dark. Overall Wheeljack just tends to avoid Bumblebee unless absolutely necessary.

As for Optimus? He was odd in a way that Wheeljack couldn't quite put his digit on. The Prime was huge to the point of somehow managing to beat Bulkhead in height. Not only that, but his frame was basically pure energy with plating loosely giving it shape. However that wasn't what put Wheeljack off the most, no, it was the untouchableness of the Prime that worried him. Optimus had no field, no face, and no body language so to speak of. He was like a machine, still, focused, and always silent save for the brief waves of emotion he sent out to communicate. It gave Wheeljack a very uncanny valley feel. Optimus was Cybertronian, but he felt so very wrong and unsettling that much like Bumblebee, when possible he tried to steer clear of the Prime.

Overall Wheeljack accepted the changes without too much issue. But Optimus and Bumblebee gave him the shivers whenever they came near.

Ultra Magnus

When Ultra Magnus came to earth and saw the team for the first time, he immediately launched into an attack aimed toward Bumblebee who unfortunately was the first bot Ultra Magnus saw. The commander was quick to be stopped by Optimus in a show of emotion that shocked those present due to how used they had become to his total and complete aloofness. The Prime then picked up Ultra Magnus and held him under his arm like a rag doll and took him back to base without so much as a moment of hesitation.

Once there, Ultra Magnus very nearly had an existential crisis as Ratchet, the team's designated diplomate due to his mostly normal appearance, came to explain. He could hardly believe what was being told to him as Ratchet told the commander all about the changes and what had gone on. But thankfully Ultra Magnus managed a weak nod and did his best to try and not be affected as he made an effort to integrate into the team despite how on edge he was.

Much like Wheeljack, he stuck to Ratchet like glue, not wanting to be around the others initially. However after around three days of adjusting to the general appearances of the team, he slowly began getting to know them all over again.

He adjusted to Bulkhead the fastest due to his previous experiences with larger mecha and found no issue working alongside the wrecker. Size didn't matter at all the Ultra Magnus, and while he found the Bulkhead's consumption of normal and dark energon disgusting, he did not let that show and moved along without issue. In fact he spent most of his time around Bulkhead and Wheeljack just so that he wouldn't need to be too close to Optimus or Bumblebee.

Arcee was the second easiest to understand and get used to. She was startling at first, but with her sheathes and mask from Wheeljack, she was relatively easy to adjust to. She did startle him a handful of times with the brutality she showed in battle and the mandibles that flared when she ate, but beyond that he had few issues with her. Although there was a singular instance where he almost threw her into a wall when he saw her out of the corner of his optic and immediately thought "insecticon".

Ratchet was not difficult at all and in fact Ultra Magus preferred his and the wrecker's company above the rest of the team. Ratchet was the most normal and never object much to Ultra Magnus hovering around nearby. He offered to assist the medic when he could and tended to be the one to catch Ratchet when he got overwhelmed from his ability. He also made an effort to help lessen the medic's pains by keeping mecha out and on patrol, constantly moving and doing things even when there wasn't an order.

Bumblebee took more than a little willpower for Ultra Magnus to even be in the same room as him. The scout terrified him in more ways than one. He was almost the opposite of Optimus when it came to just what made him so frightening. The scout was just too off to be seen as Cybertronian, his frame monstrous and his tendencies disturbing on the best of days. More than once Ultra Magnus when to recharge only to hear the scuttling of Bumblebee in the vents and the eerie mimicked voices of the team as the scout tried to communicate. The commander may or may not have blocked the vent in his quarters and barred the door at night just to reassure himself.

When it came to Optimus, he gave Ultra Magnus a feeling of emptiness that was concerning. The Prime didn't rest, refuel, or show any real emotion. He never deviated from his work aside from the odd moment where he was allowed a degree of emotional range and his frame spoke of both a divine nature and something eldritch and unholy. He was a mess of contradictions and no matter how hard Ultra Magnus tried, he still couldn't help but be frightened when he saw Optimus standing still as stone in the dead of night... just watching or silently working. It was almost like the Prime was but a ghost with no field, face, or notable gestures to help Ultra Magnus figure out what his leader was thinking.

Overall, Ultra Magnus struggled and often focused on remaining with those that were more normal. His mind couldn't handle being around the more terrifying members of the team.

[kharmii]

Hawks is lying under a blanket with an advertisement printed on it that says: Detnerat Healthy Green Juice. He wakes up.

Hawks: What!?!? What is going on here!?!? Why am I on my back!!! My back hurts!!!

What is this blanket?!?!? I was just going to take a nap but I was too tired. I was fast asleep!!!

Huh!?!? Seriously!!! Seriously what!!! Surrounded by surveillance!! When you wake up.

Awesome!!! And my wings hurt too!!! This... is not only the pain of their weight!!!: Slowly and surely...

This is low temperature burn!!! This is a fiery ice injury!!!

Isn't it starting yet!?!?! Hey you two!?

*Dabi and Geten mumble things in their sleep*

*Dabi and Geten wake up startled and reflexively launch an attack with their respective elements*

(Background voices○The building is completely destroyed!! Hurry and put out the fire!!! The ice is in the way. We can't melt it. The fire is spreading here!)

Dabi and Geten: *drowsy and disheveled* .......................

(Random voices shrieking in the background)

Hawks: This is what a mischievous cat looks like~

Okay, everyone. Let's go apologize.

(Hawks is a good friend)

Geten: Twice increases the blue flames on a scale of several hundred people. Both hands in front. Place on ice and cover.

Geten-chan thought, "I will not fight with Dabi."

(Working together, Twice makes clones of Dabi. Geten combines his ice power with the fire power of the clones) Incineration and cleaning machine [DABI∞ with mobile cooling function] Wheeeee.......

Geten: ReDestro! (He's pleased with himself believing the Grand Commander and his colleagues will be pleased).

Instead......Oops!

Caption: Paranormal Liberation Front.

ReDestro: Let's get started! On behalf of the Supreme Leader, I, ReDestro, will now be organizing troops based on the tendencies of my warriors!

(The height of honor)

ReDestro: As the captain, I ask for your help in improving the morale of our soldiers and in providing training and combat instruction! If you have any requests, please let us know.

(ReDestro starts roll-call with orders)

ReDestro: Lieutenant Geten!

Geten: Please limit your responses to a very small number of people as there is a risk of getting others involved. Sorry I can't be of much help.

ReDestro: Got it! Mr. Skeptic!

Skeptic: Not necessary. The crew will produce their own. It will interfere with the operation.

ReDestro: Understood! Dabi-Kun!

Dabi: Even if it burns, I won't understand.

ReDestro: ....understood. Toga-Kun!

Toga: I don't know! I want to be free!

ReDestro: Understood.... Twice.

Twice: I don't need it. I am the million strong army!!

ReDestro: Understood. Mr. Compress.

Mr. Compress: Any number of people is okay! The more the better. The target can escape easier.

ReDestro: I'd be in trouble if you ran away but....understood. Spinner-kun!!! You were the one who came up with the name with me!

Spinner: Please align the rolls. Raid big jump rope. AOE is also good.

ReDestro: What language is that? Trolls are no good... Understood. Well then, over 10,000 left. Me and Trumpet. Let's do our best!!!!

Trumpet: (anxious tone) Yes....

ReDestro: The more you are, the better.

Geten: I hate being a errand boy, but you guys can't even fly. The temperature isn't that low. I don't want to use my meta abilities that much just to move around.

(Geten makes them all ice floats of their own he can use his powers to move about)

Twice: Wow, it's flying! It's falling!

(Dabi's ice float melts right away, and he falls)

Toga: (perky, raises hand) He fell!

Twice: (getting emotional) A Dabi who can't fly is just Dabi....

Geten: Blue flame!!! I wish you could at least control your supernatural powers! Ah, sorry, if you could, you wouldn't burn yourself! How pitiful!

Dabi: I grill it as a hobby. You can shout it all you want. If you pity me, then pity me for my own foolishness in not being able to predict this.

Geten: It's annoying that only you get a special edition!

Dabi: In short, if the ice that is the basis for this is gone, then nothing can be done. It's a weak quirk.

I'm not like you. It's okay to just ignore it, right? The heat of the flames burns the air and burns you, without melting the ice.

Geten: All you need is a piece of ice the size of your fingernail, and you can lower the temperature of the ice along with the surrounding air.

Create ice from moisture in the air. My ice is infinite, unlike yours. I'll wrap you up in a thick wall of ice so you can roast yourself.

Mr. Compress: Because I can follow. Burns and rashes.

Don't worry about it, let's do our best together. They are appealing to each other.

Dabi: Don't do it!

Geten: I didn't!

Toga: They are good friends.

Art credit: 九わん - pixiv

[99liv3s]

Hi I would like to submit a idea for the clinic.

Name: piper

Eyes: greenish blue

Height: 6"0

She's a newly trans women from a highly experimental new program in Australia who just moved to the u.s to start a new life and learned she was implanted with a fertilized egg that could have possibly split I'll let you decide on that one.

Piper groaned as she labored on the bed, her large belly carrying low, and intense pressure on her hips. She tried to focus on breathing through the pressure and pain as she sat on the bed, her greenish blue eyes closed in a grimace as a contraction wracked her body. She knew she would be pushing soon, and she simultaneously dreaded and wished for this to happen.

About 7 months ago, back in Australia, she had signed up for a highly experimental program. As she had been planning to move to the US to start a new life for herself, she had needed funds, and this program promised a huge payout. She thought she would simply be a test subject for experimental new treatments. However, it was not long after she completed her move when she noticed she was pregnant. As a newly trans woman who had never had sex, she knew it had to have come from the experiment. Not knowing what exactly they were testing or using her body for, but willing to go along with it for the huge payout, she decided to continue with the pregnancy. Piper had noticed, based on what she had read and heard about pregnancy, that hers seemed to be vastly different. She had experienced virtually no morning sickness, no odd cravings, and very little baby movement. Perhaps, she had thought, they were testing ways to make pregnancy easier??

Eventually, she had started to experience what she could only describe as labor pains, which is what led Piper to the clinic. She had been given a basic examination, during which she panted and breathed rapidly, but the pain had been manageable. The doctor had then left to get an ultrasound machine, but had not returned, and that had been hours ago, during which Piper's labor had worsened. Piper moaned and cried out as the pressure mounted on her pelvis and pressed downward. "Owww," she gasped softly, feeling this pain.

The doors to her room opened, and the doctor finally returned, followed by a familiar face. It was one of the scientists back in Australia, who had been part of the experimental program Piper had signed up for. "Ah, Piper, it seems your time has come," she said. "I had to have a chat with your doctor, to explain everything." "So, inside of you is an egg, and very shortly, you will have to give birth to it!" "AN EGG??!!" Piper screamed out, both in astonishment and as a new painful contraction hit at that very moment. "Yes, we were curious in determining if a new species could be carried in a human womb!" The scientist explained. "We chose yours because of the many treatments you had previously undergone, which would increase the chances of the pregnancy taking hold." "And, as we can all see, it did!" "Ooowww," Piper trilled, "H...how am I... going to get it...out??" "The same way women have been getting offspring out of their bodies since the beginning of time," the scientist responded. "Here at the clinic, we've delivered eggs before," the doctor said. "We can help you, don't worry!" Piper stared at him, still in disbelief, then howled as the pain and pressure hit her again.

"You're fully dilated, and can push," the doctor told Piper a few hours later, speaking over her loud continuous moans, as she lay on the bed, her spread legs trembling in pain. The scientist had also stayed in the room with them this entire time, helping as much as she could. The pain and pressure had worsened to a degree that Piper never thought possible, and she just wanted it to be over. As she felt another contraction, she instinctively pushed, and it felt like her back and lower body was going to split open. Piper wailed in agony as she felt something heavy move down through her birth canal. "Oh my god, I can already see it," the scientist exclaimed, her eyes lighting up as she smiled. "I FEEL IT, IT HURTS!!" Piper screamed out in response, before falling back into a constant moan, that increased in pitch as the egg moved again. Between her legs, her folds were forced open as a white-bluish shell became visible. "OOOOHHH AAAHHHH OOOOWWWW!!" Piper screamed as the egg started its emergence. It was more pain than she had ever felt in her life. She was conviced that the egg would rip her open, it was so big. "Push! PUSH!" the doctor ordered, and Piper pushed, not being able to do anything else. The large egg emerged more, and Piper howled. Her vagina stretched open wider and wider to accommodate the egg, which seemed to be the size of a bowling ball. "OOHHH GOD GET IT OUT OF MEEEEE!" Piper screamed out between moans. The scientist had taken a position between Piper's legs, apparently ready to catch the egg once it was born. "You're doing it," the doctor reassured Piper. "You're getting it out!" "I know it hurts, but you'll soon be done, it's almost out!"

An hour later, the screaming mother was struggling to get the widest part of the egg out, which seemed to be stuck. Piper was begging for any kind of relief at this point, thinking no amount of payment was worth this, and that she would no doubt die from this soon. The large egg hung out of her vagina like a large baby's head, taunting everyone in the room. As the doctor pressed on Piper's belly, the scientist gripped the egg with one hand and pulled, using her other hand to press against Piper's folds. Piper screamed out loudly in pain as the egg was seemingly forced out of the young mother. She tried to push as well, but the pain was too much, and all she could do was scream as the large egg was finally removed from her body. As she lay panting and sore, the scientist held up a large egg for her to see. It was white with blue spots all over it, and was so big, Piper was amazed it came out of her. "W...what's in... the... egg...." Piper asked weakly. The scientist smiled as Piper began to succumb to sleep. "Don't worry, soon you'll wake up to so much money, you'll never have to worry again!" The scientist responded. That was the last Piper ever saw of the giant egg she birthed. The next day, she returned home to find a huge amount of money wired into her account!

(Your character rolled a 14 = One large egg)