#and this extends to amateur works as well

[fangswbenefits]

Sweet Girl

Summary: Miguel isn’t all that excited about you joining spider society, so why and how does he enter a spiral of maddening obsession?

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x spider-woman!reader

Miguel POV. Obsessed Miguel. Soft/inexperienced reader. Pining.

This is more an of an introduction to my current series Frustration. You don’t have to read the first 3 parts to enjoy this.

Miguel crossed his arms as he stood on the lowered platform.

He was waiting.

And he hated being kept waiting.

Tense minutes went by until a swirling flash of light tore through the space continuum right in front of him.

Jessica Drew stepped out first, followed closely by Peter B. Parker.

And you.

You seemed so out of it, that Miguel wondered how a spider person could have been this badly affected by a mere dimensional travel.

As you tumbled out of the portal, you immediately lurched forward. “Oh, I’m going to be sick.”

Without further warning, you emptied the content of your stomach onto the floor.

Amazing.

Arching an eyebrow, he glared at Jess who was patting your back reassuringly.

“It’s her first time, Miguel,” she frowned lightly, helping you straighten up.

Peter offered you a tissue. “Oh, I remember my first time. My intestines were not the same for a week, and I do-”

Miguel immediately cut him off, not at all interested in hearing about Peter Parker’s bowl movements. “Welcome to Nueva York,” he stepped out of the platform, extending his hand to you. “I’m Miguel O’Hara.”

You cleared your throat and shook his hand. “So… you’re the boss.”

“I’m the boss.”

Miguel saw your eyes scanning him him up and down, widening slightly. “You’re… big.”

Peter snorted and Jessica chuckled.

But he could only roll his eyes. “You’ll eventually get used to your portal jumps.”

You scanned the room with curious eyes. “That portal really needs stabilisation,” you then mumbled, adjusting your suit. “The motion sickness…”

He scoffed. “You’re a spider-woman. I’m sure you can manage motion sickness.”

“Well… it’s not the same as swinging around in your web,” you retorted with a light shrug.

Jessica patted your shoulder. “That’s why we recruited you. Your intel might be able to helps us with some of these… instabilities.”

You immediately smiled brightly. “Oh, sure! I can’t wait to get started. This place looks so cool.”

Miguel groaned inwardly. Amateurs.

He had scanned your file thoroughly and had been against your recruitment initially, but Jess had brought up valid points in your favour, despite the fact that you had only been bitten less than six months ago.

Inexperienced and ambitious.

These two hardly ever worked together, but your vast knowledge in tech compounds had made him give Jess the benefit of the doubt.

“Follow me. I’ll have to draw blood to run some tests and Lyla here will fill you in later on other procedures.”

The hologram popped in obnoxiously by your shoulder. “If he asks nicely, that is.”

Your mouth dropped open in absolute bewilderment. “Woah! AI? That is really, really awesome!”

“Thank you, pumpkin,” she grinned with a wink.

Miguel paced through the long halled that stretched out towards Lab 1, with you following close by, as Peter and Jess flanked you.

From the corner of his eye, he saw you glaring out of the tall windows, completely transfixed by the the countless skyscrapers that sprawled out as far as the eye could see.

“You built this?” your voice echoed in sheer wonder.

“Yes.”

“All of this?”

“Miguel is really gifted with technology,” Peter chimed in proudly.

“Woah…”

That tingled his ego nicely.

As the four of you walked inside the lab, the surrounding spiders at work glanced over, voicing their greetings.

“Take a seat.”

You immediately did as he said with Jessica standing next to you, hand on your shoulder.

Miguel put his gloves on and readied the material for the blood testing.

“Give me your arm.”

“So you’re a tech guy…” you started, and he gripped your forearm, rolled the sleeve of your suit up with fingers probing for a vein. “What else?”

“A geneticist.”

“Nice! So you’re like a two for one type of deal?”

Once he found what he was looking for, he aligned the tube with your skin. “This will sting a bit.”

Before you could reply, you let out a gasp at the sudden intrusion.

“And you work at the lab, too?”

“Do you always ask so many questions?” Miguel said, waiting for the tube to fill in.

You nodded with a warm smile. “I just like to know what I’m getting myself into.”

You had no idea, but Miguel was testing you, trying to gather as much of your personality as he could. He enjoyed piecing people together like puzzles. It stroked his sense of control.

“I thought Jessica had briefed you.”

“I did,” she immediately said.

“Yet you’re the one drawing my blood,” you chirped happily, your eyes fixed on his.

Well, maybe you had an idea.

Miguel felt the corner of his lips turn into a faint smile.

Good.

He needed perceptive people around.

He pulled away from from you slightly and pressed a cotton pad to the small puncture.

Sliding open one of the drawers nearby, he grabbed a watch, never letting go of your arm.

“This is a dimensional travel watch,” he explain, snapping it snugly around your wrist. “Keep it with you at all times.”

He let go of you and you seized the moment to inspect it closer, fascination never leaving your face.

“Let me guess… you also built this,” you said with a chuckle, pressing on the screen a few times.

He reached out his hand to stop you. “This is not a toy. Lyla will inform you on how to properly use it.”

You nodded firmly.

“Welcome to spider society.”

It didn’t take long for Miguel to start walking in on you sleeping in the lab.

For the fourth time.

He was all too familiar with the riveting excitement that came with scientific progress that often led to many sleepless nights.

But he still couldn’t allow this to keep happening.

Halting a few inches away from you, he took a moment to access the situation: you sat hunched over the lab table, head resting on folded arms and a string of drool dangling from the corner of your mouth.

A heavy sigh parted his lips.

He tapped his foot once on the leg of your chair, causing you to jolt upright with a yelp, nearly falling back from the loss of balance as the chair swayed dangerously.

But Miguel was fast enough to prevent that by steadying you with a firm grip on your shoulder. You then leaned forward, panting and clutching at your chest.

“Good morning.”

You turned your head to stare at him, deep bags under your eyes and sleep lines covering your face. “Miguel! Oh — hi! I’m… oh my… that was such a scare!”

His crimson eyes narrowed slightly. “It’s the fourth time this week.”

Trying to regain some composure, you straightened your clothes and wiped the string of drool trailing down your chin with the back of your hand.

“Right. I was… uh…” you paused abruptly and looked around, as if momentarily disoriented. “Oh. Yeah! I am — was working on running some diagnostics and must have dozed off waiting for the results… and-”

He clicked his tongue and spun your chair around, effectively silencing you, his eyes boring into yours. “This isn’t going to happen again. You need to rest.”

You swallowed. “I was resting…”

Miguel didn’t have neither the patience nor the time for this.

“You need proper rest,” he pressed on with a scowl. “Jessica scouted you for a reason, and if you’re too sleep-deprived to work, you’re of no use to us.”

You broke eye contact with him, lowering your head. “I’m sorry…”

The sincerity in your voice took him slightly aback, and he relaxed his face, wondering if he had perhaps been too harsh.

You were chewing on your lip, staring down at your entwined hands.

He had no idea why, but his heart skipped a beat.

Probably stress.

“Look,” he tried again, softer this time. “I know what it’s like to want more. To do more. I’ve been there,” he then crouched, so he could eye-level with you. “But you can’t keep pushing yourself like this. We have time to figure this out.”

You looked to the side, hesitating at first. “I… was talking to other spiders and some mentioned they feel the side effects of motion sickness if they use the portal more than twice a day,” you went on with newfound confidence, gripping the pad on the table and lighting up the screen. “I’m close to getting the chips to work and ther-”

Miguel pinched the bridge of his nose. “Stop. Stop.”

You did.

“What part of me saying you need to sleep didn’t you understand?”

“I don’t mind sacrificing a few nights of sleep if it means I can help other spiders,” you said, a flash of defiance crossing your eyes. “Seriously, Miguel. I need to get this done… I need it.”

Miguel’s strictness shattered.

He then saw a reflection of himself staring right at him.

So much of your determination and persistence reminded him of his early days as a scientist. The struggle, the hunger for results, the need to achieve something that could help so many…

“I know you’re looking out for me,” you went on, placing one hand on his shoulder and giving it a soft squeeze. “And I’m grateful, but science and progress don’t wait. I know I can be helpful, so let me.”

For the first time in a very long time, Miguel O’Hara was left speechless.

“Please don’t fire me,” you laughed nervously.

He blinked a couple of times and stared down at his watch.

6:14AM

“You can come back in twelve hours.”

Your eyes widened in sheer excitement, lips parting into a wide smile.

He quicky lifted one finger. “If you try to sneak in, I’ll know.”

Your smile faltered, as he saw right through your intentions.

“And I’ll have you sent back to your dimension faster than you can say Nueva York. Got it?”

You lifted one hand in a salute and nodded.

He scowled. “And… stop hanging around Hobie.”

Dropping your hand, you bolted forward from your chair to hug him, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

The sudden motion nearly caused him to topple over and you immediately let go of him, as he rose to his full height again.

“Oh! Sorry!” you stepped away, patting his arm apologetically.

He blinked.

Then, grabbing your pad, you began tapping rapidly. “I’m uploading all the data to your watch, so please take a look.”

He blinked again.

You gathered your backpack and threw him a final warm smile. “If you find anything important, please let me know!”

Miguel nodded curtly, but remained rooted in place, as you hurried across the lab and past the sliding door.

His heart skipped a beat for the second time that day.

Then it dawned on him: the last person who had hugged him had been Gabriella.

Miguel should probably call himself a hypocrite.

He was heavily against you or any other spider dozing off in the lab, but he had been indulging in this quite often as of late.

By the time he rose from his slumber, and sat back on his padded chair, he realised something soft had been placed around his shoulders.

He tugged on it and was met with a blanket covered in tiny prints of Peter B. Parker’s face.

This was definitely Mayday’s.

“What…” he drawled out, blinking a few times to adjust his eyes to the brightness that poured in from the windows.

The clock on the wall marked nine in the morning.

He stared down at his desk to find a handwritten note next to a plate of… empanadas?

“Hi~

wanted to wake you up, but you were sleeping so soundly and I didn’t want to disturb you. I found Mayday’s blankie on my lab desk — I suspect Hobie is sneaking her around to pull a prank on me hehe xOx

P.S. Jess told me you like empanadas, so I tried making some for you. Hope you like them~ (I’m crossing my fingers)

P.S. 2 You need proper rest :)”

You.

It had been you.

He glared at the plate containing the pastries, and grabbed one.

His heightened senses allowed him to immediately get flooded with an overwhelming delicious smell.

Taking a bite, he fluttered his eyes shut, allowing the overwhelming combination of flavours to take over.

It tasted so, so good.

It tasted like home.

He rose to his feet and walked out, scanning the lab for traces of you.

But he was met with Jessica instead who had just walked in.

“Oh, you look terrible.”

He swallowed what was left in his mouth. “Thanks.”

Her gaze dropped to your hand. “Oh! Did she make those for you?”

“Uh… yes.”

He felt ridiculous for having mumbled it like that.

The two of them paced along the corridors and into Lab 2, where you were sitting, back turned to them, visibly engrossed in your tasks.

“How’s she been doing?”

He took another bite. “Good. She’s persistent and focused. Those are good traits to have in this field.”

“She reminds me of yourself.”

Miguel wasn’t surprised in the slightest, because it was an undeniable fact.

“Hopefully, she won’t make the same mistakes I did.”

“Oh, I’m sure she’ll make some along the way,” she shrugged casually. “And she’ll learn from them, as you did.”

Miguel kept his gaze fixed on you and felt a strange need arise in him.

To look after you.

He took the last bite and savoured it in silence, as Jessica eyed him curiously.

“She really is a sweet girl,” she ended up saying lovingly. “She asked me what your comfort food was.”

Sweet girl.

He let the name replay in his head, and determined he liked the sound of it. It was fitting.

“Go on. Say it.”

Miguel arched an eyebrow at this. “Say what?”

Jess threw him a smug look. “That I was right for recruiting her. That you were wrong.”

In truth, Miguel hated having to admit to his mistakes, and it wasn’t even related to his ego or inability to take criticism.

As he had come to learn the hard way, his mistakes would usually lead to catastrophic consequences.

But when it came to you, he had no problem admitting he had been in the wrong. You had proved to be quite capable of handling a multitude of tasks.

… and now you were starting to grow on him.

“Yes. You were right, Jessica,” he mumbled, his eyes fixed on you. “She really is… something.”

She patted his back a few times. “Are you turning into a softie, Miguel?”

He scowled. “No.”

“Go ahead and thank her, then,” she said with a smile.

Miguel didn’t like being told what to do. He had every intention of letting you know he was grateful for your efforts.

But it had to be in his own way.

He parted ways with Jess and mad his way to you.

“Hey.”

You turned in your chair, bearing that kind smile he had grown so accustomed to. “Hi! You’re awake.”

“Cearly,” he grumbled with a shrug.

“Did you like the empanadas?”

He nodded. “They tasted amazing. Thank you.”

Like home.

“Great!” you beamed, your smile never wavering. “You looked really adorable while sleeping. Sorry for not waking you up.”

Adorable…?

He felt a lump form in his throat. Your energy was contagious, and he considered embracing it.

But he didn’t want to cave in…

He was a stubborn man by nature.

But he also didn’t want you to think he was too cold and distant like many in Nueva York thought.

“I want to show you something,” he said, tapping on his watch.

You waited expectantly and the screen in front of your flickered momentarily before a video started playing.

File: Gabriella.006

He didn’t even bother staring at the screen. He already knew by heart its content, and he didn’t want to revist the pain today.

No.

His eyes were fixed on you, instead.

He knew Lyla had already mentioned the event that led to him deciding to protect the multiverse.

He knew you knew of Gabriella.

Of what he had done.

Your smile dropped as the video went on, even though the sound of giggles and splashing water echoed around you.

“I’m not showing you this for you to feel bad for me.”

You shook your head, parting your eyes from the screen. “That didn’t even cross my mind.”

He paused the video.

“Right.”

Your eyes held kindness and your voice became softer. “I know why you’re showing this to me.”

He highly doubted it, but he waited for you to go on.

“We take care of each other here,” you began, twirling your chair to fully face bim. “And that means being open to showing vulnerabilities.”

He remained silent, digesting your words.

“Am I wrong?”

Partially, but he wouldn’t tell you that. The justification he had settled for in his head didn’t come close to your own.

And his heart skipped a beat.

He grown used to it happening whenever around you, but this time it felt more alarming.

More urgent.

“Miguel?”

You were eyeing him with concern, your hand reaching out to touch his arm.

He snapped out of his thoughts, and took a step back. “Send me the files you were working on yesterday. I need to check the coding.”

You gave him a nod, and he saw understanding soften your expression. He had expected you to press him on for an answer, but he was grateful you hadn’t.

“Oh, and… thank you, again. For… you know…” he drawled out as he ran a hand through his hair.

“You got it, Miguel,” you said, smiling sweetly.

Sweet girl.

His sweet girl.

It took Miguel one week to start dreaming about you.

At first, it would be a conglomerate of nonsensical blobs with your face or voice here and there. But as days went by, some began to take shape.

Your shape.

Nowadays, it would be your face and voice that would keep him company after tiring missions.

He had gotten quite fond of it.

Until things took a turn.

And he would wake up with a throbbing ache in between his legs, begging for relief.

That was when he knew he was letting his admiration for you get the best of him.

As he rose from his bed and walked to the tall window in his bedroom, he saw the sun lighting up the horizon line, bathing Nueva York in rays of orange and yellow.

He had built all of this in the hopes of a better future.

But now he started longing for one that had you in it somehow.

As a fellow spider.

A fellow scientist.

A friend, even.

He squinted as his sensitive eyes became increasingly sore from the intense light, so he moved to his bedside table and grabbed the peace of paper you had left him days ago.

Your handwriting mirrored your personality: graceful and captivating.

Maybe he should have tossed it away, but he couldn’t bring himself to do so.

Walking into his living room, he booted up the screens on the wall.

There was this crescendo inside him that urged him to look for you.

He tapped through various sections of the lan, but he found you near the refrigeration area, tapping on your chin with a pencil, as you glared at the screens in front of you.

He wanted to call you.

To hear your voice first thing in the morning.

To commend you for being up so early already and committing to your duties.

Suddenly, he saw your lips turn into a soft knowing smile, and he knew you must have figured something out.

Of course you had.

Your perception and tenacity were unmatched.

As much as he wanted to talk to you, he decided against it.

In his mind, he was too undeserving of anything more than a friendship with you.

He convinced himself that he was not good enough, and that he was meant to watch you from afar.

You were just like a flame. Too close and it burns. Too far away and it freezes.

He grazed his thumb across the screen, close to you.

His sweet, sweet girl.

It would be better off this way. Not for him, of course. He was already in too deep. But it would be better for you.

You deserved better.

But he still craved you.

Miguel recognised the feeling that was started to seep into his heart and mind. He had almost forgotten how suffocating that felt.

He couldn’t tear his eyes from your face.

He couldn’t tear his heart from your hold.

The level of despair was unmistakable and he knew exactly what this feeling was.

Frustration.

Next part (if you can’t access it, click here)

Masterlist

[babyjakes]

〈 disclaimer: this blog posts content not suitable for individuals under the age of 18. minors are strictly prohibited from viewing, sharing, or interacting with this blog. for more information on this blog's commitment to protecting minors, read our full statement here. 〉

event | kinkmas 2023

prompt | fucking machine

pairing | porn director!ari levinson x pornstar!reader

warnings | reader is an amateur pornstar, ari is her beloved director. emphasis on safe/consensual sex practices (safe word mention.) mild dom!ari vibes. foreplay: nipple and clit play. fucking machine. spitting. orgasm permission + she comes :D

word count | 1,049

thinking about porn director!ari helping you, his favorite little star, take the machine for the first time 🥺 maybe you're fairly new to the line of work and you've only done tamer shoots so far. this is your first taste of intenser porn elements; you're just trying it out with ari before going through a proper shoot with cameras and everything because you're not sure how you'll take it or if you'll like it

ari is super protective of you and wants to make sure you're safe throughout the entire process. he insists it's just you and him because he doesn't want any outside pressure or elements potentially making it hard for you to advocate for yourself or ask to stop if you need to. you trust him so much, he's been so wonderful to you and you feel so much safer knowing it'll be just you and him in the studio 💕

he gets everything ready before you arrive, arranging a comfy leather chaise for you to lay on and setting up the machine/testing out to make sure it works. he gets lube, a few different toys in case you'll want them, and clean up/aftercare stuff all set out as well. he told you to wear whatever you want, whatever's comfy. when you arrive in a simple t-shirt and sweatpants, he thinks you look so adorable and perfect just the way you are 🥺

he sits with you for a little while beforehand, talking you through everything that'll happen so you understand the machine and there'll be no surprises. he makes you feel so safe and supported, reminding you several times that you can stop at any time, making sure you remember the safe word, etc. he's smiling so big at you when you nod to let him know you're reading, "i'm so proud of you, sweetheart. i promise we'll make it feel good. and if you need anything, you just let me know. that's my job, i'm here to make things easy and comfortable for you"

he has the machine close enough so he can sit on the edge of the chaise there with you and adjust it as necessary. when you're ready, he lets you undress and lay back. he just has such a way of making you feel so secure around him, he's smiling so sweetly at you as he takes some time to rub your thighs, easing your legs open as you relax for him. he takes plenty of time loving on you the ways he knows you love best, gently playing with your nipples before moving down to rub your clit a little bit

"there we go. just relax for me, angel," he's coaxing you as you grow warm and wet beneath his fingers. "gotta get you nice and ready, princess. that feel good, right there? you can tell me what you need, honey. i'll take care of you." once you're adequately warmed up, he pulls away and preps the silicon attachment with lube anyway, just to prevent any friction or discomfort. "you ready, sweetheart? just remember your word, okay? the moment you say, we stop." your enthusiastic nod and gentle smile convince him you're ready

"okay baby, here we go. gonna ease it in," he explains as he gently extends the rod up to press the tip of the dildo against your leaky hole. "bit of a stretch here, deep breaths," he talks you through it as the rubber object is slowly but steadily worked up into you. "good girl, almost there," he hums as he reaches a good stopping point, making sure the thrusts won't push in too far or hit your cervix painfully

rubbing your inner thigh soothingly, asking, "you ready for me to turn it on, princess? we'll start slow, but it'll be intense. you just let me know if you need something on your clit- sometimes that helps with the pressure"

he starts you out on the lowest setting, watching carefully to see how you react. your immediate soft moans and melting into the couch are good signs hehe 🫶 his face is beaming with pride as you lie back and let the machine fuck you, watching as your eyes roll back slightly and your legs tremble as they fall to either side

"g-god," you're groaning as you're pounding steadily, "you should've l-let me do this sooner"

he's chuckling as your words are distorted by the rhythm of the machine. "i needed to make sure you were ready, pretty girl. and look at you, you're taking it so well," he knows it drives you crazy when he talks to you like that, and it's working alright!!

"m-more," you're soon begging, "faster, p-please!"

he can't help but laugh lightheartedly a bit more at your enthusiasm and impatience, nodding as he bumps you up a bit in speed. you let out the sweetest, happiest sighs as the repeated pounding rocks the entire couch. wanting to make the experience as good as possible for you, he goes back to cupping your tit with one hand, patting lovingly over your swollen clit with the other. his added stimulation makes your body jerk and writhe weakly, broadening his proud smile

"go ahead, baby. take what you need. you want it faster?" he asks as he twists and tugs at your hardened nipple. your pleading nod prompts him to boost you up another few notches, the machine growing a bit noisier as you're now fucked a bit more forcefully. wiggling yourself down a bit, you dare to let the tip of the rubber cock hit up perfectly against your weak spot. the build-up to your orgasm seems to happen over the span of mere seconds, but ari sees it happening

"p-please, i'm gonna-" you're panting weakly as you teeter towards the edge. he knows you so well, he can somehow tell exactly what you need to get you there. he brings his hand up, spitting on his fingers before slapping them down over your clit, rubbing in furious circles

"go ahead, baby. you've been so good. you can go ahead and come," his permission is all it takes- you come right then and there on that massive rubber dick as it pounds you into oblivion, ari's skilled fingers carrying through the wonderful high 💕

[tinydefector]

Okay. You've got me invested on the newest installation of Human Effects.

Now I can't stop imagine both Humans and Mechs alike having some sort of Google Form where they click on the Human/Mech they want to fuck and see which is the most desired amongst their respective species.

Now that I think about it, I think there'll be a lot of fighting. And chaos.

But then again, we live for the drama.

Human Effects Lost Records

Wordcount: 1.5k

Warnings: talk of sex, human/alien, pornhunting

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Masterlist

Lab logs

Did I take this as an opportunity to merge Human effects and laboratory logs together into a series yes I did. I'll be working on the human Effects timeline where human Effects 2 is spin-off pieces from the mainline.

_____________________

The Holo, cyber and inter webs had a strange beauty to them. It has given many the ability to communicate with different planets, species, to share culture, laughter, debates, videos And all sorts thanks to the many different satellites floating out in space. Everyone also enjoyed it for the use of downtime the most. Some had taken to enjoying Earth's entertainment platforms such as YouTube, Netflix and many other sights, others fell into more depraved sights such as Reddit, Twitter,Tumblr, Pornhub, interlink, Processed and other sights. 

Commlink: post Humans Aboard BLO freight.

BigBotNoStop: Alright mechs, I come bearing an inquiry. As you may have heard from some of my last posts, the newest additions to our crew are a thriving colony of soft, squishy humans. Word in the taproom is some have taken quite an interest in... extending cultural exchanges, if you catch my drift. Not really my field of experience and was hoping some of Xeno's here might have some input. 

Posted to Sublink: Human and cybertronian relationships?

But I'm curious, are interspecies acts even possible without harm? Their frames seem so fragile. One wrong motion and SPLAT! No more humans. quite a few members of our crew have shown interest in flirting... Thoughts? Suggestions for how to proceed with care- help a mech out!

Blazemech: Yo! You got fleshies on your ship! Fragging jealousy!. Your ship is looking for any dock workers?

TailOrTrails: Oh Primus, are we really having this discussion?? Look, I get the appeal of those soft little flesh bags. Really, I do - different wiring can be so freakin' hot. But there's no way a romp with one of those puny things ends well for them! Even accidentally bumping into a table puts them in the medbay. Think of the mess, One wrong thrust and you've got squish all over your plating.

ISOCLEAN: Just download some holofacing and use your imagination if you're that jonesing for an organic interface. Trust me, it's not worth the risk - or hassle of cleaning up after. sure you can find something from the Human sites on Mechanophilia, slutty Show and shine or Car Washes. Stay shiny and keep those servos to yourself, mechs! Some curiosities are better left to fantasies.

Flyboi69: Don't leave a mech hanging, I want deets!, has anybot here actually gotten friendly with a fleshie before? I'm talking about hands-on experience. We've all gotten curious watching, but has the real thing lived up to the fantasy? 

Pimptheride: Any tips for coaxing one into the berth, or does their tiny size mean you've got to take it slow and gentle? And most importantly... any videos out there of the deed? A mech's gotta do some, ah, research before taking the plunge. Hook a brother up if you've found any good amateur organic-on-mech action out there in the 'net. Gotta see it to believe it. 

ScienceSorcerer: For reasons. Does anyone know if humans have both Spikes and Valves? Or if they have any human anatomy holos or books and such from Earth they are willing to sell for some decent Shanix.  

T-Wrexz: Primus, you mechs are hungrier than fragging scraplets. As far as I know, relations between our kinds are still uncharted territory. Could be amazing, could end badly - who's to say until we try? Personally I'm keeping an optic out, just curious to see what new experiences those squishy aliens can offer us tough metal mechs. 

Bar-rizzla: Oho, look who's swapping tall tales. I've been keeping a close optic on our ships squishy company since they came aboard. And between you and me... I may have an in with their ambassador that could lead to some juicy first-hand intel. Just trying to track down the bot we think they are berthing with. Crews got bets out. Turns out they get just as curious about us big metal hunks as we are them!. The other night, their chat got particularly saucy after a few drinks. Lots of gossip and speculation about which lucky bot one of them might take for a private ride. 

WPHAS-Violation: I may have a certain special "human entertainment" vid I could share. Let's just say the organic in question got quite... friendly with an eager mini-con. You know where to find me if you're brave enough to watch! 

Tapemix54: Oho, mechs - think you've got it bad now? You should've seen some of the real deviants back before the war. When I was still stationed on Petrex, I knew this one smuggler - went by the name Rattler. Sneaky little scraplet, but Primus if he didn't have the wildest stories. Rattler used to run goods across time and space, dodging security at every turn. He'd pop up out of nowhere selling the rarest exotic "pets" to rich senators and other high caste mechs looking for a thrill. I'm talking aliens so bizarre even our data banks had never heard of their kind. But the highest bidder always walked away with a new "plaything" to break in, if you catch my drift. Word was Rattler even had a collection of sentient organics that he'd let special clients "test drive" between runs. Humans were apparently a favourite - their smaller frames could take all sorts of creative handling. Rattler had vids, too, of course, to entice buyers. I saw one once, let's just say "versatile" doesn't begin to cover it. Naturally the vids have all been scrubbed by now. But I bet if you knew where to dig in the deep web or some easily swayable Archivist, you might find traces of Rattler's stash still floating around out there.

 T-Wrexz: Whoa, whoa, slow your intake there tapemix! As much as I love a good far-fetched tale, I gotta call scrap on this one. Humans weren't even around back then, much less roaming the streets of Rodion as black market pets, I'm all for imagining exotic interface scenarios, but let's keep the stories at least somewhat rooted in known history, yeah?. Last I checked it was probably fabricated by Caminus cartels to make their actual goods seem tame. 

A few other mechs agree with T-Wrexz before a few kliks later a new post is put up. 

Post: 

"Old Iacon records saved of the Senator and his human Conjunx”

It's a file collection of holotapes and pictures: "Enjoy these are pre war photos of Senator Shockwave and his Human holding their sparkling" 

There are many holos and videos of the long gone senator smiling with his human perched on his shoulder, in the crystal garden with a young sparkling held in the human's arms. Videos of the sparkling playing with the two but the last The last holo looks like a family portrait with Shockwave’s frame in a lime green blue white paint with gold accessories,  his human lover is dressed in elegant robes and the small blue praxian sparkling held in their arms. Each holo is dated with the Iacon records seal of authentication. 

FlyBoi69: NO FREAKIN' WAY. Is this real?! *downloads files faster than Blurr* FRAG ME SIDEWAYS, I think I just popped a gasket! How in the PIT did you manage to dig up the holos of senator Shockwave, most of his speeches, debates and lectures were wiped. Where did you find this! 

Jackin0: of all mechs, with an actual human back in the Golden Age?!. I'm calling scrap on this being real. It's gotta be a flawless deepfake. By PRIMUS if true - to think ol' Shockers was living it up with a squishy. Maybe there's more to those Senatorial types than meets the optic...

T-Wrexz: Okay, I'll bite... but someone better explain to me RIGHT NOW how any of this computes! Last I checked, time travel and inter-species relationships were the stuff of erotic imagination, not legitimate pre-war archives. Tapemix, you better start talking. Where in the PIT did you source these files? How do we know they're authentic and not just an incredibly convincing parlour trick? Because if I'm gonna let these images ruin me, I wanna be ruined by the real deal! Spill it, mech. 

Iacon-Records: Tapemix54 could i please request where you discovered these as i work with Iacon records and this here is history that needs to be preserved. I'm willing to talk with you through a contractor if you would be willing for us to add these back into the new hall of records. Cybertron has lost so much and to find something like this I ask that we find a way to preserve it.  

BigBotNoStop: Pit take me now... I think I may have to reassess everything I thought I knew about interface and partnerships. That human is holding a sparkling curled around them - frag if it isn't the most beautiful thing I've ever seen! If anything could make me believe in miracles, it's this! Tapemix, you glorious glitch - how can I ever repay such an enlightening gift?

Tapemix54: These were filed only cycles after Shockwaves Emputra; they were added to the Iacon records by some Archivist under the title. 'I will Remember you for who you were'. This was right when the senate fell apart on the brink of the war. From my knowledge of information on Rattler he apparently had an outlier who he got to take them to different times since he was a shuttle made it easier to transport. That's from the  records that still exist at least. I'll take you up on that offer Iacon-records. 

________

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[sxorpiomooon]

How do they feel about this connection - pac reading

Paid readings

Tip me

hi! all you need to do is think of a particular person and your connection with them it can be any sort of connection and then pick the one you feel the most called towards<3

Pile 1-

this pile might be divided into two groups for the first group I think this is a connection where things might have gone a bit wrong I see amateur mistakes? Very young reckless mistakes I see them being made by this person only or someone who's more masculine they might have been a bit reckless. I see that this connection is filled with fear as well from both sides, both of you might be scared to open up because of the fear of the other person using you. There is also alot of passion in this pile but the thing is it's very directionless or more so is not able to present itself in a manner where it's positive. It will take some time for this connection to gain it's balance and stability and that is what this person thinks as well. For the second group I think this person is being very calculative and they will extend their hand for you in order to gain something from you. This person loves to win and gain and is extremely clever but they can only do it with your help.

Pile 2-

This person might feel as if they worked really hard and made a lot of effort for this connection to progress this person feels as if they did a lot of hard work but it amounted to nothing or they are faced with a problem where they feel extremely stuck? This person might even feel like you are all talk and no action? But in reality I feel like they themselves are a bit scared of you seeing them as a hypocrite or as someone who is just able to talk and not do anything. I feel like there is some sort of miscommunication or misunderstanding in this connection. I don't think both of you have the knowledge that's required for either of you in this connection to make some sort of conclusion or to make some sort of judgement. Whatever knowledge or information that you have or know of is not enough or complete. There is a very big barrier present between both of you.

Pile 3-

There are some sort of communication issues or someone else is not good at communicating things because I said the question wrong while pulling the cards. The way I see it is that this person feels like one person someone with more masculine energy is putting in alot of effort in this connection and hardwork to make it work and they are offering you with everything but the other person is just simply not able to receive and see it because of how much they are in their head. It's like one person is so much in their head with their overthinking and insecurities that they are not able to see how much effort the other person is actually putting. This person feels as if you are not opening yourself to this connection in some way and tbh they feel a little sad about it. They want to do better and be better but don't know how to do so. It's like they are ready to overcome all the challenges with you if you would just let them. I heard "waiting for the green signal" and truly right after this I had visions of how I met your mother and the tiktok audio which goes "when you are in the dark remember to look for the light" and the light is basically this other character i sort of remembered that. Also the song that goes "when everything feels like the movies" started playing in my head. This feels very pure pile 3 don't let this go<3

[cosmicstarlatte]

Thirst/comfort???? How about Luci about to have sex with reader (their first time) and they cant at all relax? They're really tense and shaky because they know its gonna hurt. (Luci comforting reader during the whole thing? i dont know if this counts as a thirst)

-🍊Oranchi🍊

18+ nsfw headcanon // minors do not interact

Omg 😩💕!!!

Lucifer is a caretaker at heart and that extends to the bedroom. Depending on what u want huehue 😏

He knows if it's done right, it shouldn't be that painful. Of course he knows everyone is different but he assures you that he will try to make it the least painful as possible, 'slow and steady' is how it'll be done he tells you when he sees how nervous you are.

He would be so soft and sweet, he loves you and he wouldn't do anything to harm you. He would check in on you frequently through out the whole session. He'd be so gentle, praising you when he can.

"Look at how well you're taking my fingers already."

He'd press soft tender kisses to your face and neck as his warm lubed up fingers gently finger fuck you. He'd murmur a small "we can stop anytime you're uncomfortable my little lamb."

He will make sure you're as comfortable as you can be. After all, and perhaps there's some selfishness here, it'd hurt his pride if you didn't enjoy your first time with him.

"Mm...doing so good. The tip is already in, how are you feeling?" He asks and presses a sweet kiss to your forehead.

"Oh my little lamb wants more? Very well then." ⬦

also someone requested a virgin mc version of this back in june and I've been sitting on it ever since. perhaps I should continue to work on it?🫣

Lucifers part is actually done and idk if I wanna release that by itself or not in case I don't actually finish it... Decisions of an amateur writer. 😔

[squareallworthy]

Reverse unpopular opinion ask meme: Irregular polygons

Irregular polygons are awesome. You can do so much more with them, in so many areas, but I'm going to limit myself to talking about just two of them: tiling and triangle centers.

(Did you think I was going to be all snobby toward my irregular friends and give them only grudging approval? Heck no, I love those guys! And so by the rules of the meme I get to infodump about the things I love, so this may be long but you asked for it.)

Let's first talk about covering the plane with copies of a single shape -- a monohedral tiling. And for now, let's restrict ourselves to periodic tilings. All triangles and all non-self-intersecting quadrilaterals tile the plane periodically, so that's not very interesting. All you have to do is place one polygon and then make copies by rotating 180 degrees around the midpoints of the sides.

With five sides, things become more complicated, because regular pentagons don't tile by themselves, but there are fifteen ways an irregular pentagon can periodically tile the plane. Here are four of them that were discovered in 1976 and 1977 by Marjorie Rice, an amateur mathematician.

There are three types of monohedral periodic convex hexagonal tilings.

For polygons with seven or more sides, there are no monohedral periodic tilings using a convex prototile , but there are periodic tilings for nonconvex polygons of any size. Some of them are quite famous.

Most of Escher's work in his Regular Division of the Plane series uses shapes with curves as well as straight sides, so they don't show polygon tilings, strictly, but the patterns do point toward complex tilings that are visually pleasing.

Irregulars can tile aperiodically, too. Here's a pentagon tiling with 6-fold rotational symmetry. It can be extended infinitely, and tilings can be constructed with pentagons for n-fold symmetry of any n>2.

Going back to non-convex shapes, here's the Voderberg tile, an enneagon that forms a spiral tiling. Notably, one copy of the shape can be completely surrounded by two others.

And of course I can't go without mentioning the tiling news of the century: "Tile (1,1)", aka the Hat, aka the T-shirt, a tridecagon (and polykite) that can tile the plane but only aperiodically. IDK if you follow polygon news but this was huge.

Okay, enough about tilings. With tilngs it's pretty easy to get what's going on just by looking at them, but my next topic, triangle centers, requires a bit more explanation. Also there's a bit of jargon, but I will try to keep it simple.

Take an arbitrary triangle ABC. Where is its center? One way you might define it is to find the midpoint of each side and draw a line to it from the opposite vertex. Each line divides the triangle in half, and these three lines (the medians) all cross at a point, the centroid. This works for any triangle, no matter its shape. The point marks the center of gravity of the area of the triangle, and also the center of gravity of its vertices. Based on that, you could consider this the center of the triangle.

Or you could work with angles instead of sides. Draw lines from each vertex that divide the angles in half (the angle bisectors). These all meet at a point called the incenter, which marks the center of the largest circle that fits inside the triangle. To put it another way, it's the point that is equidistant from all three sides. That's another point you could call the center of the triangle.

Or, how about a circle around the triangle instead? From the midpoints of the sides, draw the perpendicular bisectors. Again, they all intersect at a point, the circumcenter, which is the center of the circle that passes through the vertices -- the point that is equidistant from all three of them. So you could also call that the center of the triangle.

Or how about drawing perpendicular lines from the sides again, but having them pass through the opposite vertices (the altitudes)? They coincide at a point called the orthocenter. Isn't that neat? Yet another point we could call the center of the triangle.

But wait -- can we? For an obtuse triangle, the circumcenter and the orthocenter are going to lie outside the triangle. (For the orthocenter of an obtuse triangle, you have to extend each side into a line, and draw the altitude as a perpendicular to that.) Being outside a thing is really not what we have in mind when we talk about the center of the thing. Should we care about that?

Maybe not. Check this out. We'll go back to the circumcircle, and draw tangents to it at the three vertices. The three tangents form the tangential triangle (in blue), which we'll call A'B'C', where A' is opposite A, and so on with B and C. Now draw the circle that passes through A, A', and the circumcenter, and do the analogous construction for B and C (in red). The three circles coincide in two places: the circumcenter and another point called the far-out point. And as the name suggests, this is usually well outside the triangle, even for acute triangles.

There's no reasonable way to call this point the center of the circle. But so what? I just love the fact that the three circles line up like that. I no longer care about finding "the" center of the triangle. I no longer care that "center" is rather a misnomer for many of these points. I just think it's neat that you can draw these constructions on ordinary aysmmetrical triangles and they keep all converging on one point. Want more? Reflect the medians across the angle bisectors, and they all meet at the symmedian point. Or connect the vertices of the tangential triangle with the intersections of the medians and the circumcircle. Those lines meet at the Exeter point. Or, from each vertex, draw the line that splits the perimeter of the triangle in half. These are called the splitters, and they meet at the Nagel point. And on and on and on.

You can simply wander around a triangle, connecting things that relate somehow to vertex A, then do the equivalent thing for B and C, and stumble upon new centers. And there are tens of thousands of these things, constructed with straightedge and compass or by other methods. And there are so many ways to enjoy these things. You can page through the enormous collection and get a kind of stamp-collecting satisfaction just looking at their variety and knowing that they exist. Or you can appreciate the proofs that show that the constructions really do specify a unique point. Or proofs that show that a point constructed to have one property has a surprisingly different property. Or you can notice that the points fall into certain families and appreciate the connections between them. (For instance, the centroid, circumcenter, orthocenter, far-out point, and Exeter point, among others, all happen to lie on the same line, the Euler line.) Or you can convert the points to trilinear coordinates, manipulate them algebraically, and get to know them that way.

But to appreciate them at all, you need to work with irregular triangles. Because here's the thing: in an equilateral triangle, all these points collapse to the same point. Everything simplifies to a single center, and the incredible wealth of invisible structure that teems inside every ordinary triangle is gone.

You have finally found "the" center, but at what cost? Symmetry is death. Only through asymmetry will the vast truth of the triangle be revealed to you.

And those are just a few of the reasons irregular polygons are cool!

[tofupixel]

re: the plagiarism and work on X comment, regardless of platform, I find the sentiment that it's okay to steal from amateur or hobbyist artists, but not professional artists to be quite devastating as well. just because someone doesn't sell or otherwise make money from their art, that doesn't mean they don't have any rights to their own creations, or that they are a lesser artist because of it.

It kind of feels like extending the 'you posted it online, so you don't own it anymore' sentiment to 'this isn't professional, so it's Free Real Estate™'.

It's like no matter what you do as an artist, people will find excuses for disrespecting your work, time and effort. It's very discouraging.

right. same thinking as "i found it on google so its mine" like what

some people just have no respect for others work at all. luckily its very easy to embarrass people like this.

just cos some people are rude and wrong, try not to let it affect you. i think the majority of people understand that stealing and copying is just wrong, and the worst/rudest people are the loudest ones (prob cos they feel the need to defend their thieving ways)!!

[srbachchan]

DAY 6010

Jalsa, Mumbai Aug 1, 2024/Aug 2 Thu/Fri 2:54 am

Birthday - EF - Vijaya Lakshmi .. Ef Anurodh Arun Gupta Friday, 2 August .. and my wishes along with the wishes of the Ef family for you .. love and have a lovely day .. ❤️

.. on the day off the sleep be long and unwanted , but it delivers and we take and extend and pay no heed to the work on hand .. pity .. for work is the essence of 'keeping one awake' .. is it not ..

.. but its 2:59 am, now , and in a minute shall be 3:00 am of the 2nd of August ..

may you have a graceful morn and may all the wishes that you may desire be fulfilled .. with some rapidity .. ah , rapidity .. the use of such word after a long interval of avoidance and deliberateness ..

at times it be of some unacclaimed value that there is avoidance and deliberate attempt on the part off the blogomaestra : a respite from the usual and norm form ..

so ... so ... so ...

agreat deal of neglected paper work and connects and responses was taken care and the finals were celebrated at the saptaswar of the SAPTASWAR ..

.. and religiosity was the aim for the others than the self .. unable to live up to their musical expectations do after a determined try .. er ..

well ..

just do what is done .. else we .. retire .. and we did ..

but not before a wild attempt of collaborating with anonymous make shift rhythm and words from the past to design and hip moving JAM .. which I believe someday , perhaps shall see the light of the night ..

yo .. I rhythmed .. and found that there is work to be done on it and shall wait for the spare moment to be able to do that ..

from religiosity .. to jamming .. such insignificant attempts at music .. we are such amateurs and have no idea whatsoever of the trends and needs of this GEN Z ..

.. this gen z , is a set by itself .. independent , sure , confident and secure from an age when we were struggling with how the lace of the shoe needs to be tied ..

we .. errr .. still dont ..

they have realised it too .. the makers ..

they make shoes that need no laces .. but shoe horns .. slip in .. yank the horn and trundle away ..

ah .. life is so simple and avilable with all the options of the World at the drop of the proverbial HAT .. wherever it came from ..

the proverb dears , not the hat ..

the hat conveys a lot more than most of us can ever dream of knowing ..

respect though does still carry value ..

tipping the hat in greeting .. taking it off in appreciation .. crushing it in resentment .. kissing it in pride .. placing at feet of the other, in reverence .. in our culture .. !!!

my hat is off .. as is my brain in tiresome expectation of the pill .. ermm .. the pillow !

GN .. or rather GWN ..

Amitabh Bachchan

[deansdelicate]

I CAN SEE YOU

CHAPTER II: WATCHING YOU FOR AGES

seth rollins x fem!writer+producer reader

word count: [8.5K]

warnings: no use of y/n, mild cursing, mentions of having a baby out of wedlock (steph and paul), slight allusions to anxiety/loneliness, flirting (you don't even have to squint), mostly a light-hearted, domestic chapter <3

🎧 the soundtrack

summary: You're still getting accustomed to the fast life that comes with working for WWE, but it's all starting to settle down and you're beginning to feel like you belong with each day that passes—and it sure does help when a special someone is always going out of their way to make sure you know it too.

Seth and the rest of the superstars sat patiently on the shuttle bus, awaiting one last person before they could head to the arena for the night’s taping of SmackDown. It wasn’t often that they got to travel as one big group, but it was always something he took up when possible.

Usually the procedure was driving themselves to and from cities, hotels, and arenas, but now that Paul was in charge, he did his best to work in bus accommodations in order to give talent the slot to relax before shows. But even then, some opted to drive themselves, like Roman who was missing from his usual seat beside Seth.

“Who are we even waiting for?” Xavier complained, standing up to scan the area, trying to detect who exactly was holding them up.

“I’m surprised it isn’t you,” Seth cackled over at Finn who was notoriously known for being chronically late to every bus ride.

The Irish lad rolled his eyes. “Whoever has me beat is far more a mess.”

“Mr. Driver, can we get this show on the road?” piped Kofi with a clap as all the superstars agreed, preferring to get to the arena before doors so they could all get situated.

The driver looked up in the rear-view mirror, laughing shortly with the shake of his head. The superstars grumbled, patience dwindling by the second, trying to pinpoint who was the culprit of them running behind and making a pact to bar them from any future bus rides.

It wasn’t unusual for a crowd to gather outside the hotel—many of them children accompanied with their parents to get autographs and photos if they weren’t able to snag tickets to the show. But this time around, the crowd felt larger, more amateur photographers scattered throughout, which was odd considering it wasn’t a pay-per-view event.

“Oh, shit…” Big E singsonged, leaning out of his seat towards the window to see what all the ruckus was about as the fans’ cheers got louder.

Security surrounded you closely, keeping their arms outwards to stop people from getting too close to you. You happily waved at everyone, pausing for the kids who asked for autographs and selfies, making small talk with them before you waved goodbye and continued following the security.

“This way, Ms. Levesque.” One of the guards escorted you towards the doors of the bus, holding it open and ensuring you’d get in safely.

“Thank you,” you murmured with a tight smile, giving each of them a handshake for going out of their way for you.

“Hi! I’m so sorry for the holdup,” you apologized sincerely, turning to meet the driver, “They just wanted to make sure we were clear to go ahead.” You explained, extending your hand.

The man reassured you with a comforting shake of his head and meeting your hand gently. Your father was extremely protective of you, therefore many, if not all drivers and security crew of the company were well aware of the procedure of making sure you got where you needed to be safely no matter how long it took.

“You are precious cargo, Ms. Levesque. Have a seat and I’ll get us to the arena promptly.” He directed, gesturing you to get comfortable wherever you pleased.

Passing through the aisle, you smiled and said your ‘hello’s’ to everyone, most were surprised that you were joining them, considering that you were almost always a driven separately.

But what they didn’t know was that you had to practically beg your father to switch transportation for the day, simply wanting to be around everyone instead of being chauffeured to every event, which was starting to become a little lonely.

Seth sat in the last row of the bus, an empty seat beside him catching your eye. You paused in the aisle, pointing to the space with a hopeful smile.

“Is it okay if I sit here?” you asked timidly, crossing your fingers he didn’t mind you invading his space.

He immediately bopped his head, patting the seat.

“Course, here, let me help you.” He offered, holding his arms out towards you to take your things so that you could get settled with the fuss.

“Thanks.” You breathed a sigh of relief, passing him your purse and laptop.

You slid into the seat and buckled in before retrieving your stuff, your eyes meeting Seth’s with a grateful expression when his fingers brushed against yours for a split second.

“I hope you guys weren’t waiting too long,” you apologized, placing your purse on the ground between your feet.

He shook his head, leaning back into his seat. “Nah, we weren’t waiting long. Plus, it’s always a pleasure to be waiting for the princess herself.”

You giggled, brushing your hair over your shoulders then laying your head against the rest. “I’ll be sure to remember that.”

The bus began moving en route to the arena that was a good twenty-five minutes away, giving you enough time to look over the script that you had been working on since what felt like forever ago. It was a part of an assignment your dad had you complete ting—writing four original scripts for the main roster, three of which focused on superstars who needed a bit more of character development.

The three completed scripts were met with praise by your dad alongside a number of producers and fellow writers who thought you were able to curate a story worthy enough to be showcased on TV. The remaining storyline, however, was a challenge—a romantic one.

You had been circling back to early storylines that involved romance, and while they were entertaining and good TV, they all felt one dimensional.

Therefore, you challenged yourself to come up with a script that would allow both leads to shine without acting as if their relationship was the only thing that existed. Sure, it was a longshot your dad would approve of it since TV hadn’t seen a romance trope in a while, but you wanted to take the risk and give it a shot.

“Important business?” Seth peered past your shoulder, raising his brow at your screen that had an overwhelming volume of text splayed across it.

You gawked up at him, nodding with a light laugh. “Just my final assignment.”

He looked at you, confused, feigning concern. “Final assignment? Did I miss the memo or something?”

You swung your head as you giggled, stopping your typing in order to show him exactly what you were up to.

“It’s the last storyline I’m writing for my dad to approve. I’ve been working on it for a while and now I’m just trying to polish it up for him.” You explained, tilting the screen towards him as you scrolled through the document.

“Whose it for?” he wondered, genuine curiosity in his eyes as he read a short fragment.

You rolled your shoulders with a shrug.

“To be honest, I don’t even have any particular superstars in mind. It’s very vague, but the details and sequencing are all there.”

“Well, if you’re writing it, I’m positive it’ll be worthy of Paul’s green-light.” He said confidently, his tone sincere, hoping it would make you feel slightly better to know he was rooting for you.

“I hope so,” your voice soft, exchanging tight smiles before you turned your attention back to work, trying to ignore the feeling of Seth’s eyes peering at you every so often while you typed away.

The bus ride was the perfect change of scenery even if it was just for a little while. It had been a bit lonesome traveling all by yourself and with the presence of everyone else you started to feel like you could get into the groove of things. Even if you weren’t involved in the conversation, the chatter of everyone cracking jokes made you grin through the work.

As the bus parked out back, the driver promptly exited to get the undercarriage opened so that talent could retrieve their luggages. Everyone stayed in their seats, just getting up to stretch their legs.

A security personnel poked their head into the bus, scanning the area until they saw you.

“Ms. Levesque, we’re going to escort you into the building.”

You acknowledged them with a nod, swiftly closing your laptop and gathering your things.

“How come we don’t get an escort too?” Kofi frowned, eliciting amusement from the entire bus, including yourself.

“Because I’m not a professional wrestler who could easily defend herself against crazed fans.” You half-joked with a pout.

“Noted.” Kofi replied with a smirk, flexing his arms and taking what you said as a compliment.

You shook your head with a laugh, turning back to Seth, who had been watching closely visibly seeing that now you were breaking out of your shell and learning everyone’s personalities.

“I’ll see you inside?” You proposed, getting up from your seat.

He nodded, knocking his knuckles against the window behind him. “See you in there.”

You twiddled your fingers goodbye before you walked through the aisle towards the front of the bus where security was already waiting.

“Bye everyone! I’ll see you inside,” you called out to everyone, waving as you exited and followed security through the surveillance screening to get into the arena.

After retrieving his bags, Seth headed straight to the locker room, dropping off his bags and then making his way toward catering for some food. He caught a glimpse of you on the way there, already sitting in hair and makeup, doing work on your laptop while you chit-chatted with the ladies.

He figured he’d leave you to it, hoping he’d run into you later in the night to talk more. He knew how important it was to make others feel welcomed, but it felt especially important to him that he could be someone you knew you could lean on, whether it was casual conversations or just talking about work.

“Where you off to? We’re all scheduled for a meeting with Paul.” Charlotte stopped him in the halls, going in the opposite direction of where all the talent was heading.

He scratched the back of his neck, pointing at her phone in her hand, “Was it an email? I didn’t see it on the itinerary.”

The blonde nodded, scrolling through her inbox. “Should’ve got sent to you this morning, but it doesn’t matter. It said all talent anyway.”

Seth nodded, walking alongside her, noting just how many people were headed in the same direction as Paul’s office. Usually they were all scheduled for meeting by group, but it seemed like it was an important one if Paul was calling for everyone on the same day at the same time.

As they squeezed into the office, some superstars found empty chairs while the rest stood against the walls, making space for those still arriving. The room buzzed with loud chatter, everyone speculating about the meeting’s purpose, hoping it wasn’t anything bad, like another round of roster splits.

Paul who sat at the head of the table, finally cleared his throat, silencing the room with an assertive presence that meant business.

“Okay everyone, let’s make this quick so you all can get out of here.” He rubbed his hands together, passing around papers that had the upcoming schedule for the next month.

“We’ve got some shows scattered across the east coast and mid-west. We’re prepping for SummerSlam, so things are going to start moving quicker and as we wrap up some storylines, we’re also going to be starting new ones.”

Many of the superstars were already well aware if they would be on the pay-per-view card or not, except Seth, who was still awaiting his opponent after he and Dean lost the tag team championships to Sheamus and Cesaro. They were originally going to have a rematch, but Dean ended up getting written into a different storyline with The Miz for the intercontinental championship.

“As you know my daughter joined us just a few days ago, but she has been watching and closely working alongside creative and producers in order to write a few scripts. Some of which will be getting played out in the coming weeks.”

Seth heard through the grapevine that some superstars already had meetings with you the following day after your debut to pitch the new storylines. Braun Strowman was one of the superstars to have a script written specifically for himself, and it was safe to say that everyone else was excited to see if they’d receive a script with your name on it too.

Your father was also greatly elated that you were taking the reins on helping him develop some talent—the pride evident in his voice and face as he spoke about you though you weren’t around to hear.

“And speaking about my daughter, I feel like this goes without saying, but just to make it abundantly clear, I think you should hear it from me.”

The tone in Paul’s voice suddenly shifted to something more serious, causing the superstars to deliberately fixate their sights on him.

“She’s new to this scene and to be quite frank she didn’t even want to step foot anywhere near the business, but she gave it a shot and while she’s still getting adjusted to the way things work around here, I have a good feeling she’s going to be the person taking over when I decide its time for me to step away…”

Everyone nodded along understanding that Paul’s time in charge might not be for long seeing as though he was getting older and he didn’t want to overstay his position of the head of creative knowing that it was best for a new perspective to be let in before things went stale.

Paul took a deep breath, the shift in his demeanor palpable as he transitioned from boss to protective father. His eyes scanned the room, settling on each superstar with a look that spoke volumes and caused most of them to squirm including Seth.

“Which is why I need to make myself crystal clear,” he began, his voice firm and unwavering. “My daughter is absolutely off-limits.”

He paused, letting the weight of his words sink in despite him feeling like it should have been an automatic rule everyone should’ve been expected to follow without him saying it explicitly.

Seth found it a little hypocritical considering the nature of Paul and Stephanie’s relationship. Everyone knew they had gotten together despite Vince’s warning and everyone else tell them it was bad for business, yet here they were years later not only married but with four daughters to show for it.

But Seth also knew that mixing pleasure with business wasn’t always successful as theirs was—most times it was like playing a dangerous game, and he respected that aspect of it—plus, who would be crazy enough to go after the boss’s daughter, anyway?

“She’s a sweet girl,” he continued, his voice softening slightly trying not to get emotional when it came to you.

“And I’m not just saying that because she’s my kid. If anyone were to hurt her, especially when I’m the person signing their checks, I would hate to be the one to have to fire them too. Am I clear?”

Paul was anything other than threatening especially outside of the character he played up for fans, but it felt like the first time he showed the true colors that could come out if anyone dared to get on his bad side. There was a collective ‘yes’ that filled the room, nearly suffocating everyone with how thick the tension in the air was.

From the back of the room, Randy’s voice cut through the silence with a choked up laugh.

“I guess my dreams of calling you dad are finally crushed.”

Laughter calmed the room and everyone in it—of course Randy was the only one who could make a joke like that and live to see another day.

Paul chortled, pointing a finger in his direction. “Son of a bitch,” he muttered, shaking his head and settling down.

Just then, the door swung open, causing everyone to look in its direction.

You stumbled in, changed out of your casual clothing into a little black dress with your hair pinned up in curlers. Your eyes widened, forehead creasing with worry as you quickly shut the door and darted your eyes towards your dad, sputtering out an apology.

“I’m sorry, I’m late! I thought the meeting started at—”

He shook his head, lifting a hand and cutting you off. “You’re right on time, sweetheart. I just got them briefed on next month’s schedule.”

He picked up one of the printed papers, waving you over to sit in the empty seat next to him.

A sigh of relief escaped your lips, smiling and waving to all the superstars as you made your way to the front of the room.

“Is there anything you guys talked about?” You speculated, brushing your hands against the fabric of your dress before you sat.

Everyone remained dead silent, shaking their heads realizing Paul had strategically given you a different time just so he could give all of them the word of warning without you present.

For a moment you caught eyes with Seth who stood near the back of the room, arms crossed over his chest and he quickly moved his eyes elsewhere, shaking his head like everyone else.

Your dad clicked his tongue, getting your attention. “No, just that and briefly about the storylines you had been working on.” He replied smoothly, covering the previous discussion without you knowing.

“Maybe you should formally introduce yourself, since they don’t know very much about you.”

He sat back in his chair, nodding for you to go ahead. For some reason, it was more nerve-racking to talk to all of them at once instead of the usual one-on-one conversations you had been having with them as the week went on.

“Oh, okay,” you muttered, nodding your head as you stood up, taking a deep breath.

“My apologies in advance for how I look right now. As you could tell, I am horrible with time management.” You bit your lip, miming at your head of curlers.

The room snickered, somewhat relaxing you seeing that they weren’t as intimidating and scary as they came off. They all understood how hectic the job could get, and some of them were still needed to change into gear, which made you feel like it was no big deal after all.

“As you know I’m Paul and Stephanie’s eldest daughter and I am currently serving as a freshman creative writer and backstage producer on the main roster. But before this, I had been writing storylines for NXT, the developmental brand, for about a year and a half. And before that, I was working in freelance writing after I graduated college.” You said, gaining a little more confidence the more you spoke.

“On screen I play according to my dad, a semi-heel and semi-face heiress to the legacy in which my mother’s side of the family forged and now has merged with father. And now that you’re all here, I just wanted to say thank you for welcoming me with open arms and giving me the opportunity to be a part of your world.” You pressed your hands together, bowing slightly towards them.

You caught a few impressed nods and smiles from the superstars, clearly unaware of your extensive experience and appreciating that you gave them their flowers despite you still being so new to the main roster.

“It’s been a huge deal for me that my father trusts me with creating stories, and I know it’s important that you, the performers who make it your own, feel connected to them, therefore I am always open to talking and hearing what we could do to make it better. So please do not feel intimidated by me at all—I’m seriously the least intimidating person around here, and I can’t wait to work with you all.”

The room filled with a round of applause that made you smile in relief as you sat back down after what felt like eternity with all eyes on you. And of course, like your eyes were trained to look in his direction, you couldn’t miss Seth wearing a tight lip grin and giving you a subtle thumbs up as if he knew you would be looking his way.

Your dad reached over, giving you a small pat on the back, displaying a proud smile.

“Well, that wraps it up. Let’s have a good show tonight, alright?”

Everyone slowly began to file out of your dad’s office, a few superstars sticking around to catch up with him, while some came up to you, indicating their excitement at having you on board. Seth waited until you wrapped up with some of them before approaching you to do the same.

“Good job,” Seth spoke genuinely, giving your arm a gentle tap, “Didn’t know you had so much experience.”

You laughed softly, feeling at ease with him around compared to everyone else.

“I didn’t want to bore you with my resume.” You shrugged.

Your father turned his attention to you both, a surprised look spreading across his face as he gestured between you both.

“You guys met already?”

You looked up at Seth, nodding with a silly grin before turning to your dad. “I actually ran into him on Monday before the show. I was totally klutz and bumped into him.” You confessed embarrassingly.

“Sounds just about right.” Your dad joked, prompting you to roll your eyes.

“She did deceive me a little bit,” Seth started, tipping his head towards you, “Left out that she’s the boss’s daughter.”

Your dad let out a snort, shaking his head knowing that you partly did so because you didn’t want to gloat, but mostly because you wanted to keep your debut a surprise for as long as possible.

“How are you feeling today?” Paul asked curiously, lacing his fingers together as he sat back into his chair.

You played with your fingers idly, smiling a little, “I think I’m getting the hang of it, but I still get nervous getting on live tv.” You admitted.

“Well, tonight’s good practice. You’ve got three short segments with some superstars, so they’ll help you through it.”

Alexa Bliss, Kevin Owens, and Roman Reigns.

You had gone over the script an abundant amount of times having your lines memorized off the top of your head.

Alexa, you had met down in NXT before she was drafted onto the main roster, the two of you becoming good acquaintances outside of the ring. When she found out you two would be having a segment together, she immediately shot you a text, gushing about how excited she was.

Kevin was introduced to you by your dad on Monday night. Him voicing his delight that you decided to come work for the company and all nice things said about the storylines you had forged in NXT prior. He still had a few friends down in developmental who bragged about the storylines you and Shawn were working on together and now that he finally had a face to your name, he was excited about what else you’d do on the main roster.

Roman was someone you watched consistently on TV. He was a part of the same faction Seth and Dean were in—The Shield. You hadn’t met him on Monday since he was on paternity leave, but tonight, having him back in action was the perfect opportunity to introduce yourself.

“Speaking of that,” you diverted your eyes back up to Seth who lingered at your side, “Do you know where Roman might be? I didn’t get the chance to talk to him one on one yet.”

Seth nodded, pointing his thumbs towards the door.

“I’m pretty sure he’s in catering. I’m heading there now if you want to come with.” He offered politely.

And you nodded thankfully, getting up to reach over and give your dad a small hug, “I’ll stop by before the show.”

“Don’t forget to get those out of your hair,” he reminded, chuckling along with Seth as you shook your head. “See you later, Seth,” He added, giving the wrestler a firm handshake before you were on your way.

The hallways were busy with crew members rolling in carts and transporting equipment before doors opened—a rush you were just starting to get used to it. You and Seth were practically shoulder to shoulder trying not to get in anyone’s way. Each time your hand brushed against his arm, you muttered a quiet apology, to which he hushed you, saying it was nothing to worry about.

As the haste in the hallway slowly dwindled, you glanced at him. “Thanks for saying those kinds of things. I really appreciate it.”

So far, Seth was the one superstar you had multiple interactions with and he had been pleasant each and every single time. You figured it was because he held a lot of respect for your dad, but another part of you knew it was just him being a good person.

He met your eyes, nodding his head and rubbing his hands together, “I know how daunting it is, especially when you’re so new to the scene, but just know that everyone already thinks you’re killing it…me especially.” He bragged, gesturing to himself with a smirk.

Your cheeks rose with a smile. “Thank you,” you whispered, and it never seemed to leave your face after that.

Reaching catering, he held the door open for you, letting you through first. Renee and Charlotte had caught a glimpse and immediately waved at you, their eyes briefly widening when they saw Seth strolling in behind you. He said something to you, pointing towards Roman’s back at the same table where the rest of his friends sat.

“Yo, big dog!” He shouted, garnering Roman’s attention as the man looked over his shoulder.

Seth motioned to you then headed off to grab food while you walked up to the man. You immediately greeted him with a glowing smile and a small wave. He grinned, setting his fork down and sticking his hand out to shake yours.

“Hey! Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt you, but I just wanted to say hello and introduce myself. I heard you and your wife just welcomed two new little ones—congratulations!” You bubbled, making him smile at the thoughtfulness.

Rising up out of his chair, he opening his arms and gave you a warm appreciative hug.

“Thanks, and it’s nice to meet you too.” He replied, before drawing away, “I saw what you did on Monday and man…the fans already love you.” He smirked, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I think they’re still a little skeptical if I’m going to be more like my mom’s character or my dad’s.” You threw your hands up, making him chuckle.

Nearly forgetting, your eyes widened, and you snapped your fingers.

“And hey, if you want to change anything about our segment, just let me know. I’m always in my office and if I’m not there, I’m probably hiding from my dad’s personal assistant.”

He and the rest of the table cracked a laugh, aware that your father kept a close eye on you, especially after what they gathered from the meeting.

“I appreciate that. It’s always nice to know I can talk to you,” He replied earnestly, his statement showing his gratitude before taking his seat again to continue eating.

“Wanna sit?” Seth offered, returning with a plate of food and he pulled out the empty chair beside him for you to take. You nodded, thanking him with a smile as you took a seat.

“So you said that before NXT you were working as a freelance writer,” Renee spoke, leaning towards you across the table and you nodded. “Anything we know you from?”

You thought for a moment, shaking your head.

“To be honest, I don’t think so. I did a lot of screenwriting after college. Short films and mini projects that didn’t really take off, but then after that I got really into creative writing and launched a tiny little column in the local paper about fictional entertainment.”

“Wow, you really are a workhorse.” Dean complimented.

“You have to show us one of your short films someday,” Seth chimed in, chuckling when he saw embarrassment flush over your cheeks.

You shook your head vigorously, covering your face, making everyone laugh and shake their heads.

“It was mediocre at the very least. A lot of angst and tropey plot lines.”

Maybe it was you attempting to be humble or truly just wanting to save yourself the mess, but they all knew deep down that you had a vividly gifted mind. It already proved itself to be true with the experience you had, but more so in the fact that you took the time to make sure everyone in the locker-room knew you were approachable because the storylines meant just as much to you as it did to them.

Charlotte reached across the table, grazing your hand, “We’re all going out to dinner tonight. You should join us!”

She extended the invitation with a friendly smile, hoping you would take her up on it, seeing as though they all wanted to get to know you more.

“You sure?” You asked hesitantly, not wanting to impose.

“Yeah, come on,” Seth nudged you gently, flashing you a toothy grin, “The restaurant we’re going to is known for the best steak in the city and I heard they’ve got a killer dessert menu.” His voice had a teasing lilt, as if trying to entice you.

You pressed your lips together, shoulders caving in shyly until you finally nodded.

“Sure, why not” You gave in, the table hooting with a frenzy, making you smile wider.

“I just have to ask my driver to drop me off. Do you mind giving me the address?” You asked, looking towards Charlotte.

“You could ride with me and Seth after the show,” Roman suggested, jutting his chin over at his buddy who nodded in agreement.

“And we’re staying at the same hotel, so it’ll be no problem getting back.” Seth added, his eyes meeting yours in a reassuring gaze.

You nodded, smiling happily, “That’s perfect, thank you so much! Should I meet you guys in the parking garage after the show?”

They nodded. “We’ll be there.”

“Great! I’m going to get these out of hair, but I’ll see you guys tonight!” You beamed, rising up and giving all of them a wave.

As you wandered away, you suddenly turned back on your heel, shooting Roman a playful point.

“And I’ll see you later for the segment!” You added eagerly, and he chuckled nodding as you went on your way.

By the time the main event match was wrapping up, gorilla was nearly empty. Just a few producers and your dad who hung back sticking around to congratulate Kevin and Roman.

You had been sitting in gorilla after your three segments had wrapped, needing a change in scenery while you worked through your final script and took some producer notes as your dad worked.

Soon enough Roman’s music hit, signaling the end of the show. The hard camera continued rolling for a few more seconds until your dad spoke through the headsets to cut, and soon the two superstars began making their way up the ramp.

You immediately stood up, walking over to the curtain to greet them, watching as they shook each other’s hand.

“Amazing match, you two,” you applauded.

The two men laughed when you stuck your arm out offering them a first bump, not wanting to give them a proper hug due to the sweat and they met your knuckles in a friendly manner.

Roman pointed at you, still catching his breath as a stage hand passed him a bottle of water.

“Parking garage, don’t forget.” He spoke and then chugged the liquid.

You nodded, thanking him for reminding you, “Yeah, I’ll be there as soon as I wrap up here.”

He went over to your father and the rest of the producers, shaking their hands before heading to the locker room to catch a shower and gather his things for the road. You said goodnight to all that were leaving, thanking them for their kind words regarding your segment and all the work you had been doing so far.

Your dad took off his headsets, shrugging off his suit jacket.

“Where you headed off to?” He wondered, watching you collect your laptop and notebook from the monitor desks.

“Charlotte invited me out to dinner with a few people and I’m gonna catch a ride with Roman and Seth there.” You announced cheerfully, holding your things against your chest.

He smiled lovingly, happy to see that they were making an effort to make you feel extra welcomed.

“That’s nice of them. Just make sure you get back to the hotel alright. We have an early flight in the morning.”

“Of course, dad.” You nodded, going to give him a hug, “And if you see Eddie, tell him I said thank you for sending my stuff over to my suite.” You spoke against him.

He nodded, pressing a kiss to cheek forehead. “Shoot me a text when you turn in. I love you.”

“Love you too, dad.”

You quickly made a pit stop at your office to tidy up the space and grab the rest of your belongings, checking that you had everything before the arena locked up for the night. Anticipating the brisk cold of the night, you pulled on your black oversized blazer, giving the room one last look over before shutting the door and walking towards the back entrance where the parking garage was located.

You looked around, stepping further until you spotted Roman and Seth loading up the trunk of their rental with their bags while Charlotte, Renee, and Dean lingered against the rental beside them, making small talk while waiting for you.

Your heels clacked against the concrete, catching their attention.

“Thanks again for the ride,” you chirped, pausing near the boys who finished up sliding in their luggage and bags.

Seth frowned, looking down and around you.

“Where’s your stuff?” He wondered, pointing to the small space he reserved for your things.

You waved your hand off in the air, “Eddie sent it over to my suite earlier in the night. Didn’t want you guys doing extra arm work.”

Roman tsked, patted his biceps and flexing them dramatically, “Don’t worry, baby girl, these puppies can lift anything.”

You giggled, rolling your eyes playfully until Dean whistled, tossing his keys between his palms.

“Let’s get this show on the road. I want my steak pronto.” He said, rubbing his tummy.

You all began getting into your respective cars. Seth taking the liberty of motioning you to follow him, holding open the backdoor for you, “After you.”

“Thanks,” you murmured softly, sliding in and buckling your seatbelt.

He shut your door gently, walking around to the driver’s seat, getting the car started while Roman got comfortable in the passenger. The radio was on low, and Seth deliberately toggled with the climate control, turning on the heating for the backseat, knowing you were a bit chilly now that you sported a jacket over your dress.

He signalled for Dean to go first, waiting as the other car reversed out of the stall, and Seth followed behind en route to the restaurant that was just a few more minutes into the city.

Roman cleared his throat, briefly looking back at you. “How did you feel about your segments?”

You shifted in your seat, sitting up a tad. “It actually went better than I thought! It’s just the thought of the camera being there and the anticipation of going live that gets me all nervous.”

They both understood what you meant, and to be fair they had a bit of an advantage when they were first starting out. Seth, Roman, and Dean having each other to lean on during segments, matches, and promos which made the whole thing feel less intimidating and prepared them for when they became singles competitors.

“Well, if it makes you feel better, the crowd is already receptive to you and you have good chemistry with everyone you’ve worked with so far.” Seth said kindly, eyes looking at you in the rearview, catching a smile that spread across your face even in the dingy lighting of the car.

The rest of the drive was full of chitchat—Roman gushing over his kids, pride sweltering as he spoke about them and how much he missed them while on the road. Seth expressed the same feelings, except regarding his adorable yorkie named Kevin who he had since his NXT days.

You had a little bit of both—three little sisters whom you were extremely close with, and like a second mother figure to them, and childhood dogs who snuggled you each time you came to visit home.

When you all arrived, Seth the ever gentleman he was, opened your door, helping you out before you all walked in. The restaurant was rustic yet sleek, nothing too fancy or out of the ordinary, which was charming for a nice spot in the city. The heavy wooden doors gave way to the space adorned with marble countertops and wooden panelling that complimented the setting.

“You guys can follow me…” the hostess instructed, guiding your group towards the back of the restaurant in a secluded corner perfect for all seven of you.

Everyone picked their seats—Dean and Renee sitting on one side along with Charlotte. Roman sat at the head of the table and you and Seth sat directly across from the trio, with you on the tail end.

He pulled out the chair for you, nodding his head as you smiled and bowed slightly at the gesture. “Why thank you,” you giggled, taking a seat as he pushed the chair in slightly and took the empty adjacent to Roman.

The hostess got you all started with some menus, letting you all browse over it before she would come back and get your orders. You flipped through the laminated pages, picking two items just in case they were out of the other.

You peered over at Seth who was doing the same until you nudged your elbow gently into his, gaining his attention as he perked up and nodded towards you.

“What are you getting?”

“A medium rare tomahawk, potatoes, and a water,” He said without skipping a beat or taking another look at the menu, “I already knew what I was gonna get.”

The act alone made you giggle, shaking your head at him as he too broke out into a laugh, watching you fold up your menu as you settled down.

“So you were just trying to fit in the whole time?” You bantered, narrowing your eyes at him.

He rubbed his hands over his chest, nodding, “I didn’t want to be the only one not looking at the menu.” He whispered, eyes shifting to everyone else who was still deciding what they were going to get.

You sat back, folding your arms across your chest, shifting an inch closer to him, “I probably won’t get anything too fancy, but I am definitely getting some red wine…you’re not having a beer?”

He shook his head, mimicking your action, his shoulder pressed against your arm. “I am transporting precious cargo and I would hate for you to suffer even a scratch.”

You felt warm all over, trying to suppress another smile that always seemed to be incessantly glued to your face whenever Seth said something nice to you. And you failed to conceal it again, letting your cheeks rise.

“I appreciate your chivalry.” You spoke quietly enough for just him to hear.

“You’re getting dessert after too, right?” He insisted, pointing at the image of a chocolate lava cake that he was most certainly talking up earlier in the night.

You pursed your lips, not knowing if you could stomach it by yourself. “Wanna split it?”

He smirked, nodding, “Yeah sure, but just letting you know, I am going to ask for a scoop of vanilla ice cream over top.”

“Sounds divine.” You wiggled your brows, making him chuckle.

Dinner was full of laughter, with food and drinks served on the side. It had been a while since you had been around people who made you laugh so much without even trying too hard. All of them were so lively, cracking jokes left and right and somehow still being able to carry a casual conversation without missing a beat.

You felt safe around all of them, a kind of camaraderie that didn’t make you feel as if you were just solely the boss’s daughter, but rather a friend in the making through your new venture in life. Good things took time, and you knew the friendships you were going to make with all of them was totally worth it.

“No, they did not!” Renee and Charlotte stared at you wide eyed, the rest of the table bursting out into laughs while you nodded your head instantaneously and rested your palms on the tabletop, leaning towards them.

“I swear to god, I’m not making this up!” You drew an x over your heart, holding your palms in the air.

“Maybe I pissed the guy off for turning him down, but there I was getting ready to drive to class and that piece of shit spray painted “suck it!” all over my car!” You exclaimed, disturbed, but not for long, as you threw your head back and laughed uncontrollably.

The girls followed suit, hunching over the table, reaching for your arms and clinging to you while you all laughed like little kids. You had no clue how you got to talking about your terrible college experience with boys, but somehow you got there, and everyone was dumbfounded that one guy you turned down would go all Degeneration X on you.

“Your parents must have been pissed, right?” Dean sought, settling down with a stiffled laugh.

Your eyes widened as you nodded, sipping on your wine before you replied.

“Oh, they were livid once they first found out! But eventually when it passed, and I got it painted over, we just couldn’t stop laughing because it was just so absurd.”

Roman shook his head, staring at you in amazement.

“I can’t believe we didn’t know about you this entire time. Your parents really kept you out of the limelight, huh?”

You nodded, “That, and the fact that having a baby out of wedlock really wasn’t something my parents wanted out at the time—mostly because of my grandpa Vince.”

They all winced, grinning guiltily knowing of course Vince of all people was the one who wanted to keep his daughter’s premarital pregnancy under wraps. Thankfully, now it wasn’t such a big deal and you and your parents found it slightly comical.

“What’s funny is that I swore I saw you running up and down the arenas back when I was like 10 and you were like 3?” Charlotte recalled, looking over at you puzzled.

You nodded, gesturing up at your hair. “If my hair was in pigtails and I sported a gigantic DX shirt as a dress, then yes. That was totally me causing trouble in the corridors.”

Seth peered at you, watching you closely. “How come you didn’t want to get into the business sooner?”

You sighed heavily, shrugging your shoulders, “I don’t know. I guess I just thought it was too much. Too much business. Too much drama. Too many feelings getting hurt, especially when family is involved.” You pointed out to which everyone understood.

“How’d your dad convince you?” He added, knowing it must have not been so easy.

You set your elbow on the table, resting your chin on your first as you stared at him ardently.

“I had a feeling my dad was going to take over the company, and at that time I wasn’t doing a lot, so when he came to me and pitched the idea, I was a teeny bit hesitant, but he promised me I could have all the creative freedom I wanted. So long as I didn’t erase history or disregarded any talent’s input.”

Seth nodded along, listening to you express your relationship with the company and most importantly your dad. It was clear that you had no intentions of getting involved because to be fair you loved what you did on your own, but you took a risk and fell in love with writing storylines that were refreshing for the product and the new era of television they were in.

Many of the superstars, including Seth were thrilled when it was announced that Paul was taking over, but adding you into the mix made everything feel a little different in the best way possible. Usually writers and producers pushed back against their ideas and suggestions, but you exhibited a profound way of keeping and getting them involved in the product behind the scenes in a way that many never got to chance to have.

He knew, just as well as everyone else that you were going to leave your mark. The way you talked about your craft and the sincerity that leaked with every word had him enthralled—that was until Dean broke up the stare he had on you.

“We better cross our fingers we get a script written by you.” Dean raised his glass, breaking the silence.

You blinked slowly, the warmth still lingering in the air between you and Seth as you shifted your eyes to the rest of your friends lifting their glasses to you.

“To the Levesque Era,” Seth declared, following suit and nodding for you to pick up your wine glass.

“And new beginnings,” you continued, your voice soft but sanguine, the rim of your glass clinking with his lightly as you repeated the sentiment with everyone else.

As promised, you and Seth shared a chocolate molten lava cake topped with vanilla bean ice cream. The two of you sliding the plate between each other, sitting back comfortably as you listened to everyone catch you up on what they were up to in their lives outside the company.

Out of the corner of your eye, you spotted the hostess. You smiled at her, straightening up as she approached. Subtly, you handed her your card, and she nodded, promising to be back with the receipt.

As she walked away and you discreetly tucked your wallet back into your purse, Seth leaned in over your shoulder, wondering what you were up to.

“What did you just do?” He asked, his mouth still full, staring at you with a mix of suspicion and amusement.

You looked back at him, slowly relaxing back as you bit your lip and tried to pretend you didn’t hear him the first time.

“What do you mean?” you raised your brow at him.

He swallowed, shaking his head. “Did you just pay? I told you it was on us,” He protested, eyes widening in playful disbelief.

“Oh hey c’mon, that’s cheating.” Roman chimed in, pointing at you.

You held your hands up in defense, a smirk playing on your lips. “No, seriously, it’s on me. You guys invited me out, and it’s the least I could do.”

“Next time we’re baring you from even sticking your hand in your purse,” Renee threatened, sticking her hand out for you to shake on it.

Giggling, you nodded as you clasped her hand. “You have my word.”

You let go, all of you beginning to wrap up and get ready to head out for the night.

Seth, still shaking his head, leaned closer, a mischievous look in his eyes.

“You’re something else, you know that?”

“Just trying to make a good impression.” You argued with a playful shrug.

“Well, you’re definitely succeeding,” he retorted, voice true despite the teasing tone that came along with it.

The night winded down perfectly, zero traffic heading back to the hotel and sleepiness just on the precipice of settling behind your eyes. You, Seth, and Roman said goodnight to three after you and the girls exchanged phone numbers while the men got their bags and suitcases unloaded from the trunks.

“What floor?” Roman ordered, looking over towards you and Seth entering the elevator.

“Six,” you and Seth said in unison, turning to each other with matching looks of surprise and a shared laugh. Roman chuckled as he pressed the buttons for both floors.

The elevator hummed quietly as it ascended, a comfortable silence settling over the three of you after the night of laughter and conversations you had. When it dinged on Roman’s floor, he reached around, pulling you into a small hug.

“Thanks again for dinner.”

“Of course! You have a good night.” You replied warmly, returning the hug and stepping back. Roman and Seth exchanged a firm handshake, a silent nod of understanding between them before Roman exited the elevator.

As the doors closed, and continued its ascension to the sixth floor, Seth turned to you with a gentle smile. “Want me to walk you to your room?”

You nodded without a second thought, feeling a warmth spread through your chest.

“I’d like that.”

The hallway was quiet and shadowy, the carpeted floors muffling your footsteps and rolling of his suitcase as you walked sided by side. Your room was at the end of the corridor, just a few doors away from him. Stopping in front of your door, you searched your bag for the keycard.

“Thanks again for tonight.” He kept his eyes on you, catching the way you looked up past your lashes, and shook your head with a small smile.

“It’s the least I could do, and thank you for making me feel welcomed. It really means a lot to me.” You said, finally fishing the key out of your bag.

“Any chance I can treat you for coffee in the morning?” He proposed politely, wanting to return the gesture.

But you pouted wistfully, shaking your head and feeling genuinely bummed.

“I’ve actually got an early flight. It’s my little sister’s birthday and me and my dad are surprising her.” You apologized, wishing your fight was later in the day.

Seth nodded understandingly, not letting his disappointment show past his smile. “That’s alright. Tell her I said happy birthday.”

You grinned, nodding, “Of course! And I’ll definitely take you up on that coffee date when I get back.” You promised, eyes twinkling with anticipating for it.

“Looking forward to it,” he breathed, his gaze lingering on you as you slid the key into your door, turning the handle.

You gave him one last smile, feeling just a tad reluctant to end the night despite your tiredness.

“Night, Seth.”

“Night sweetheart.” He said quietly, watching as you stepped inside and offered him one last wave before shutting the door.

And so he walked back a few doors down, looking down your way one last time, already hoping for the next time he’d see you again.

💌 reblogs, tags, comments, + likes are greatly appreciated! leave a comment and let me know if want to be added to my taglist!! 💌

a/n: i hope you guys like chapter two of icsy!!! i was aiming to do something domestic and fun, and i thought why not dinner with the whole crew and a side of seth and reader flirting like idiots the whole time??? let me know what you guys think and i cannot wait for you to read the next chapter (hehehe it's already one of my faves <3).

[realisticpregerotica]

Ami's Debut

Thank you for @doing-swell for the inspiration and some ideas to post my first story on tumblr! Your company and support really helped :)

18+ Minors DNI

3rd person POV, 5.8k words

Pornographic themes/filming, pregnancy, foreplay + vaginal sex, orgasmic birthing, surprise twins, breech birthing, self induced birth denial

All characters depicted are 18+

The long form adult video is a dying artform with cutthroat competition for advancement. The number of actresses willing to do day consuming sessions for a multi-hour long composition was dwindling alongside its consumer base. Such an industry relied on its young stars for more content, but amateurs were looked down on, unproven for the lack of chances and cannibalized by greedy directors.. 

If this adult video industry had any hope of competing it needed to get increasingly outlandish to compete with the volume produced on the internet. How could a format conceived during the time of VHS tapes ever compete with the modern day? 

This was the responsibility for 19 year old Ami Takahashi who found herself on the casting couch just a couple months ago. She sat atop the stairs down into the studio with her brown plaid dress dawned with a pair of sunglasses and a face mask. Her large eyes and her clear skin with a body that had yet to fill out from her transition out of adolescence. 

Such attire and location wouldn’t make her look out of place in the known red light district. This young woman had to make money however she could, yet, there was one deviation.

The young woman carried the entire weight of her belly on her lithe frame, tall and slender to fit the beauty standards of society around her with only one deviation. Her midsection distended grotesquely for a woman with her size and build.

Her round pushed unnaturally outwards from her, low and heavy between her hips. The side of her taut skin poked from behind her. And every step towards the studio from the train station was made with either a wrist against her lower back or her hands clasped under her stomach to contain the weight that ballooned over the last few weeks. She couldn’t conceptualize the fact that she still had 4 weeks to go.

Ami looked particularly out of place for both her age and her profession. 

She had been feeling a sensation of a deep stir within. A pull that made her forget exactly where she was and pulled her towards her core like a black hole.

“Mmhaa…” she sighed. She scowled. It was as if the contraction caught a second wind.this new pain rang deeper into her, squeezing her uterus into a center that guided itself between her legs. Her hand caught the railing was the only thing that kept her upright as the brutal contraction finished it’s work on her body.

“...Ami?” she looked up to find a familiar face standing over her. She was one of the few people who could recognize him behind his censored face.. His handsome face was hidden by censorship so every surface of her growing body could be dissected and sexualized. His sweetness was always evident with the scenes they shot together, though their relationship was nothing beyond professional and human decency.

“Do you need help?” Kenji asked, extending his forearm. “Y-yeah…” she admitted, grabbing his arm and allowing herself to lean her pregnancy weight into him.Ami didn’t know how much longer she could work in this condition. She couldn’t even walk down stairs without assistance.

The two stars arrived at a room that was quickly being set up. It looked like Ami had graduated from the leather couch and onto a tacky bedroom with cheap sheets.

“Ami,” boomed the monotone voice of a wiry middle aged man. From the curtain of the shadows  in the studio emerged Director Tonaka, the lead of the project that bore Ami’s name.

“You’re late.” He declared to the young mother to be. She was initially casted under the reference of an anonymous scouter, and by the time Tonaka contacted the young woman, she was already well into her pregnancy. Ami oozed with potential, raw and unrefined, shades that she failed to display in the previous scenes they had shot. She was significantly larger than the last time they had met. Concerningly, so…

“I’m sorry, director… I intended to come earlier. May I please discuss something with you?” `His arms were crossed with his glasses that hung low at the bridge of his nose. His judging eyes pierced her resolve. 

“What is it?” He grumbled.

“It’s about my contract.”

“What about it?” The director asked, flipping the pages of his thick clipboard in anticipation of the impending shoot.

A pit of fear grew within her, as if she was placing her entire career on the line if she didn’t communicate her needs correctly. Her stomach stirred with activity, feeling their mothers worry. Ami gently stroked her stomach, trying to calm the child within. “I’m afraid that the end of my contract might be coming… Earlier than expected.”

“Earlier… Than expected? You are aware of all of the clauses of your contract, correct?” 

“Y-yes. But… I don’t think I-… Will be available for another scene. I have to take leave after this shoot.” She pleaded.

Tonaka stared at her in silence, as if her request made her the unreasonable party. “The terms were well defined.  Whether it’s two weeks, a day, or even a few hours from now you agreed . It’s my understanding that you signed off on this contract, did you not?””

The director wasn’t foolish. He wasn’t here to waste any second of the novelty of a star as young and willing to show off her fertility. Pregnancy and the mothers were temporary. He would do all he could to capitalize on every second of her pregnancy. 

Ami swallowed and looked down. “Yes sir…” she yielded. She gently stroked her lower belly in anticipation of the long hours ahead.

The titular star was placed in the fabricated room. The scene landed her on warn sheets that complimented her apricot skin well. Front and center the scene would begin. She was modestly dressed for the camera, a plaid dress that may have fit well before her prenatal form with a white long sleeve. The same exact clothes she wore at the station.

Would a viewer recognize her? Would an old family friend remember the outfit as a part of Ami’s wardrobe? 

When Ami stared at the black box those thoughts suffocated her. She could feel her chest pound at the thoughts of all the eyes that would see her in this temporary state, at this age, this deep into her pregnancy. She wanted more.

Kenji's entrance into the room was the beginning, even if he began as he did. Just a voice behind the camera. 

“It’s nice to see you again, Ami.” With the cameras rolling Kenji was a completely different person. He was a mouthpiece for the director, and the stand-in host for all of the scenes they had shot together. The only person in the room.who showed any sympathy for her, imbued her with a sense of the moment for what it was. A performance.to be the person who would hold her in place.

“You’re in your 38th week now, right?” 

“Yes sir.” She replied as her meek character 

One of the interns that had been doing his math looked up to the director. “Is she really?”

“Only 34, but we can market her as further along” Director Tonaka hushed the lighting person.  

Kenji finally appeared in frame, approaching the mother uncomfortably closely as per the script's instruction

“Just a couple more weeks from your due date, right? How do you feel” 

The script forced a nervous chuckle out of her with baby doe eyes towards the camera. “I’m so scared. My baby has been getting so big…” 

It was dull. She was dull. Ami was so sick of playing this character, following this script. The same format she had followed for three shoots already. So much had changed, her body, her mood, and feelings. Yet the things that Tonaka capitalized on were her intangibles. Her age, the assumed purity. If she could just have one second she could prove she could be so much more. 

The interview went on, describing her tragic fake story of Ami being a high school drop out that had gotten impregnated and left by a scumbag at a party. That porn was her only outlet and that Ami was a poor, defenseless woman.

There were so many things that Ami wanted to say. There was nobody she could speak to about her pregnancy. A camera with eyes that looked directly into her. 

And after Kenji asked the questions that made her look the most pathetic he finally stepped into frame. Even if his face was being censored, his presence imbued her with the willingness to submit.

“Enough talking. Let's see the belly of a 19 year old mother.”  

Given her cue Ami began to undo the most intricate parts of her clothes, allowing her co-star for easy access to her growing body. “I can pop at any moment… Please be gentle.” 

Her modest clothes were stripped from her. That maternity dress fit tightly around her midsection as it rode up her belly. To the surprise of all in the studio was another layer, a belly band to support her stomach’s weight.

Even her co-star took a second to realize how he would approach this scene. 

Ami. who was already large now exploded out from her supportive band. Tonaka and the rest of the studio went wide eyed at the reveal. Ami let out a groan in discomfort as her belly’s weight hung unnaturally low. “Annhh~” escaped her lips,  audible discomfort of her gravid shape. An unscripted sound.

“My god… You really are getting big.” Kenji said from between her slightly parted thighs.

“He’s been… Moving so much.” She had to pretend to act shy for the camera, but nothing could beat Kenji’s touch. His hands circled around her stomach, the fabricated violation of where she protected her baby. 

Before Ami could get comfortable the pain binded her again. The camera caught her stomach shrinking from the middle of her body. The way Kenji’s hands pulled her skin changed as her distended midsection hardened like a rock, refusing to yield from her body. Ami turned towards the ceiling with labored breaths as nothing but the contraction filled her mind. The attention across her tight skin sent a tingling into her whole body that made her want to spread her legs. She sucked in air deeply and allowed her hips to roll as she tried to disperse the pressure. An intense contraction caught on film.

As she faced Kenji again he stood over her. Despite what her body was telling her, the scene had to keep on going.

With how green Ami was in the industry, getting to work with Kenji was a high point of it. His professionalism, his movements, the way his fingers read her and kept her comfortable picked up all of the slack that Ami had keeping herself ready to perform. His experienced hands circled her body, worked her sensitive areas with precision like a surgeon, not one wasted step 

His fingers lingered and teased her inner thighs. The touch disappeared from the blindspots of her belly.

“Mnnnhhh!!” Ami gasped as Kenji’s fingers swiped across her slit. Ami’s tiny pussy was inflated with the pressure of carrying her massive bump, all of the nerve endings begging to be indulged.  Wet his fingers against her bare opening as the camera focused on her crotch that she had failed to see in months.

Not far from now that camera would be focussed on her baby’s crowning head. He let Ami feel the pads of his fingers one more time before finding the space between her vulva, letting her brace herself. “Annhh~!” She gasped in a picturesque form, whining while she squirmed with the simple insertion of a finger. 

Her entrance was clogged. The tip of his fingers touched a muscular wall that he had felt before that shocked Ami’s core like electricity that filled the room with a squeal. The muscular entrance of her uterine walls. Her cervix descended so greatly. 

A throaty gasp as Ami's thighs clamped up Kenji's hand, denying access to his fingers any further and obscuring the sight of the camera.

The director scowled at her resistance. “Go again!” He demanded, calling a stop to the scene. Nothing would get in the way of his vision, not even Ami's urges to bear down to the pressure. She tried her best to ignore the tightening of her stomach as she spread her legs, and once again, Kenji fingered her.

“Mnnh!” She vocalized before stifling her moan. She rolled her hips to his digits parting her insides. At his distance, Kenji could see her massive belly begin to tighten and recede back into her before his very eyes. Heavy grunts came from deep within her chest. Her walls tightened with her contracting body, pushing the blockage he felt further out within her. 

“Hah-... Ahhhh!” She acted moans through sensations she had never felt before as the entrance to her womb was invaded. 

The buzz of a vibrator filled the room. Ami’s legs were thrown aside. She went to hold her breath. She had gotten so sensitive over the last couple of weeks she had no idea how long she could possibly last.

“MnnnHHH~!” For just one second Ami’s real voice came out, a loud groan in bliss that came deep from her chest. Kenji flicked his wrist away from her to recover. Hitting her pussy with the head of the vibrator so she could fake an orgasm to the camera. 

“T-thank you…” Ami whispered. 

“Stay strong.” Kenji replied 

As more cameras and microphones were adjusted around him one camera was adjusted for a shoulder view of Ami as he counted her from between her legs. When they gave each other the signal Kenji lifted one of her legs, shifting Ami’s entire center of gravity and pulling the weight of her womb to one side of her body.

Ami’s naked lips were exposed to the camera, dripping from the light foreplay to her cumbersome body. His cock drew the lip of her muscular cervix. It was open, wide. 

“Why don’t you go deeper?” Tonaka scolded, bringing his two stars to an immediate halt. He looked down at his junior who struggled to breathe and held her baby laden stomach protectively. Ami’s insides were descended, he was hitting something on his tip that sent powerful reactions into the heavily pregnant young mother.

“Director… I can’t.” He stated. As he opened his mouth to voice his concern towards Ami’s unborn child, Tonaka slammed against his clipboard. “Well, We need footage of a quality penetration. How do you two propose we could get that done?” 

Ami struggled to get her heavy body upright onto the bed. She huffed at the weight of her body and the lingering sensations of their initial position. “I-I can get on top…” 

“Ami…” 

“It’s okay,” she reassured, still clearly shaken with a hand holding her stomach in place. “It felt a little weird on my side.” 

Kenji sat on the edge of the bed and Ami sat on his lap, allowing his thighs to lay between her open legs. She grabbed his thick member between her legs and aimed it towards her swollen opening. After a breath, she lowered her hips.

“Ooooo-hhhhh!” she groaned as her body lowered. She could feel her pregnancy weight make him shutter as he pressed deep into her heavily dilated cervix. After a few deep breaths Ami began to move. 

The weight of her belly slammed against him. As she opened her legs she could feel her pelvis open, the weight of her child barrelling down after every bounce. Something round and heavy sandwiched his penis against the rigid walls of her amateur pussy. 

“MnH!” She gasped, silencing herself with her palm. Her eyes grew wide as muffled cries escaped from the gaps between her fingers. Her belly began to tighten again from on top of her co-star. This contraction was not minutes after the last one.

“Oh god…” Ami thought.

It was hitting her womb. Every time she descended onto him Ami could feel the weight of her belly shoot back into her body. His member penetrated her between the dilated opening of her cervix. The flexible membrane that separated her baby from the head of her costar’s penis.

As their pace ramped up the familiar tension returned at the worst possible time. In her upright position her baby pulled to the floor with gravity. This contraction was different. Like dozens of hands simultaneously crushing her pregnant belly directly on top of Kenji.

Staring into the camera grounded her. Ami stared deep into the lens as she was railed senseless for the viewer to see. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head as she panted with Kenji’s thrusting hips. The heavy abuse of her pregnant body for the world to see. 

She arched her back as well as she could, impaling herself against him with her legs wide open“I’m cumming! I’m cumming-I’m cumming-I’m-!!!”

Her hips were out of control. Every bounce shook her belly and rattled her womb. 

“Mmh-” Kenji let a quick grunt slip as the weight of her occupied belly flattened his cockA membrane enveloped Kenji’s head. The feeling of hot waters surrounded him tightly as she worked desperately into him.

“Mnnh-Mnnhh-OhhH!!!” from between her opened thighs fluids exploded from around the member inside of her, shooting waters around their sandwiched hips as the scene ended in dramatic climax.

The director didn’t appreciate improvisation… But the results spoke for themselves. Ami was assisted off of Kenji’s lap. Before the camera could focus on her naked pussy a mixture of cum and fluids continued to cascade out of her as the young mother was laid to rest on the cold, tile floor.” 

“Okay everybody. Let’s clean up this scene. We don’t have a lot of time until-”

“UNNNGGGHHHH!!”

Ami cried against the tile floor. She clenched her stomach as she pleaded for the pains to stop, immobilized by the pains that only ramped up through the course of the shoot. They had gotten closer and closer, and now, Ami got no respite as they assaulted Ami’s womb without rest. 

“Director, she was having contractions throughout the whole last scene.” Ami laid in a pool of her amniotic fluids.

“Nobody touch her!” The director snapped. Kenji took a step back, powerless against the director's creative mind. And if there was any creative liberty Tonaka would allow, it was the pure expression of childbirth.

“Eh?” Ami watched as the entire crew collectively created more distance from the young laboring mother. 

“Somebody help me!” She pleaded. She looked for anybody, an intern, an assistant, a midwife on set.  Her greatest anxieties came true when nobody refused to step forward. She was going to give birth alone.

Panic began to set in for the young mother as she was stared at by everybody in the room. . The director signaled for the cameras to turn on once again.

It was as if the events over the last couple years of her life were finally realized. She was heavily pregnant and in labor, being filmed giving birth after fucking a stranger for money. And while she gave birth, his cum was still between her legs. Her shame was nowhere to be hidden, the camera the very moment it occurred to Ami, not the amateur pornstar, but the woman

“UHHHNNNNNGGGG!” She groaned. Ami felt the roundness of her baby’s head barrel down into her cervix. Her baby traveled down her birth canal, the walls that had just been fucked mere minutes ago. 

The contractions were unforgiving now. Deep in her womb was a pressure that demanded every ounce of attention. Every breath during their apex was a battle that she couldn’t lose unless she wanted to pass out. The uncontrollable urge to push. 

“I can’t believe we’re recording this…” 

“Can we really distribute this?” 

The pressure coned between Ami’s legs. She couldn’t act in any way to disprove the judgement. She couldn’t act while giving birth. “IT BURNS!!” she cried as that sliver of hair grew no larger than the width of an egg.

Ami collapsed in exhaustion, flat on her back, nude against the white tile. Her own discharge smeared against her baby’s head as it made its crawling exit from her. The pain of such a large thing spreading her open only turned her on more. The crew watched as Ami’s pussy was forever stretched by the girth of her infant’s head.

Yet as she writhed on the floor the crew could only agree in silence as Ami’s attitude shifted before their very eyes. The corners of her lips curled. Ami’s moans and grunts grew more sensual as she felt the intensity of childbirth inside of her. 

Her hips spun with more passion than she had ever shown in the scenes before. Her hands were magnets to her body like a narcissistic nymphomaniac, only accentuating the body she shared with her unborn child more. She was a pregnant pornstar. And as her baby barrelled down her pussy, and that little slit grew around her childs head 

Kenji could only turn to the director as he put his clothes back on. “Is she… turned on?”. His judging eyes flushed against her birthing body.

“How couldn’t I be?!” Ami thought.

The room was flooded with the smell of sex, hers and hundreds of stars before her. The exhilaration of her baby quickly descending down her birth canal. The widest section of her baby’s head spread her vagina open more than anything she had ever experienced.

Behind all that red light and the eye of the camera was the footage of herself. Her reputation. Her life. She was just a teenager, and before all of the watching eyes that this film would find, she was about to become a mother.

The young woman reached past her massive stomach and finally got to touch her naked, puffy lips for herself. Right at the very tips of her fingers she could feel what burned her open as she stretched. If she pushed any harder, would the baby go back into her? 

The thoughts excited her body as she clumsily reached to pleasure herself.It didn’t take long to find her hard clit, and when she did she let her fingers roll over her outstretched button of nerves. 

“Ouuunnnhhh-Ah!!” She groaned as she pleasured herself to her baby stretching her entrance. The sensations of the contractions and masturbation clouded her mind 

“Nnnngggg-Nnnggghh.Oooohhh!!!” She groaned. Ami’s eyes shot open as the contraction seized her body. The young woman lifted one of her knees to her chest and bore down to meet the intensity of her body’s instincts.

“OUUUUGGGGHHHH!” She strained with clenched teeth. Ami’s inner thighs trembled a her vulva stretched to their capacity around the widest part of the head. The muscles of her midsection contorted in all shapes and sizes. The deadlock of her baby’s head ended as Ami’s eyes shot into the back of her head. 

“ANH~!” she gasped sharply. The head popped free from her with more fluids emptying onto the floor. 

Ami’s cunt was spread open by the one that spread her legs. The embarrassment of having her every gasp captured. Her deep guttural grunts as her baby forced apart her young holes. Her heart pounded with exhilaration, a feeling that perhaps no other woman in history could lay claim to.

Her inhibitions faded as the urgency of childbirth invaded her brain. Her heart pounded as her body was consumed by something she could never experience with any toy or lover. She was creating life. Ami was giving birth for the camera.

“UNNNNGGGHHHH!!!” The shoulders came free as the rest of the body slid out from her.

Ami’s child was born into the world on the cold tile of a porn studio. The crew could only stare at Ami as she stirred deliriously while sprawled out across the floor with a soaked infant sat between Ami’s still large and very round stomach. 

As the new mother recovered it was as if she had just seen color for the first time. Her young mind was shaped from the life threatening intensity of birthing her child to a crowd. She wanted nothing more than to do it all over again.

Director Tonaka could only cover his mouth, trying to process exactly what he caught on camera. He thought of all of the descriptions he could use to pitch the tape. If he wanted to capitalize on this scene at all, he had to move quickly. Before Ami could review, let alone dispute the footage. 

“Cut!” Tonaka announced to the room, facilitating the immediate end to the recording. The urgency in his voice made the whole crew shutter. “Everybody, let's wrap up.” 

Flooded with the maternal hormones in her head, Ami could hardly process the deconstruction of the cameras around her. The experience left her dissatisfied. A knot that built within her chest. Slowly, Ami’s forehead scrunched, as another squeeze against her sides took her breath away. She instinctively stroked her stomach, still large enough to draw a round outline of her belly. “O-ow…” she strained, gasping over the pressure that came over her.

Nobody paid the new mother any mind as she was bound to the floor. Nobody looked in her direction, nobody cared for the nude mother caught in the center of the room with a cold newborn clutched to her breast.

“W-wait…” Her vision became foggy. “Something… ahhhhhnnn.. Something- Ohhhh.” She moaned. Kenji caught her gaze. As Ami’s co-star attempted to speak to the mother, his arm was caught by the director.

“All requirements of your contract have been met. Out of respect for you and your child, we will take our leave.” Director Tonaka said, throwing his coat over his shoulder. He placed his hands on Kenji’s back, guiding the reluctant man away from Ami and out the door of the studio.

“This room has been rented for another half an hour, please leave before then.” He instructed. He disappeared behind the door, leaving the room with only the wails of her newborn and her tightening breath.

“O-ohhh!” She moaned again as she felt her stomach tighten. The pains were far too strong to just be the placenta. As she looked down at her slightly shrunken belly and her suspicions were confirmed with more movements stirring below her belly button

“There’s another baby…” she mumbled in disbelief. She was going to be a 19 year old with twins.

She labored on the cold hard floor. The labor was immediately more difficult than the birth of her first child. The progress crawled. The difficulty of her baby dragging against the walls of her uterus. She was going to feel the sensations again.

“A-ah!” she went to go catch herself, but her eyes grew wide. Nobody was there to control her. She could make all the sounds she wanted. The onset of the second birth was over the horizon, but something was missing.

She wanted to be watched! 

In the spur of the moment she clambered towards the pocket of the clothes that were stripped from her and propped up her phone to the leg of the bed frame 

Viewers who discovered this phone video were to be greeted with the bizarre sight. Ami sat on the cold floor, still marked by the fluids from her previous voice. She was still naked, but still clearly pregnant, while already holding a child that remained connected to her.

“H-hello everybody…” She greeted. A long silence braced the screen before she spoke again. “My name is Ami Takahashi. I… Filmed a porno earlier today where I had sex and gave birth to my first baby.” The thoughts came into her head as she spoke.

“There… Are some truths in that series. I am 19 and my parents disowned me. But there is fiction too. I’m only 34 weeks pregnant, my doctor told me my cervix was opening from all of the sex scenes I was shooting. I wasn’t listening, I didn’t even know I was having twins, but I still came in to get fucked while I was having constant contractions for days!” The admission made her heart race.

“And! I’m not a college student. I dropped out of school to live with my boyfriend who shares me with all of his friends. I-huf… Still… don’t know who the father is.” Her legs instinctually spread as the pain squeezed the last of her breath

“Fuck…” Ami cursed as she bit her lip, her heart was pounding! Unable to halt the indifferent force of her body attempting to bring Ami’s second child into the world, the pain ramped up.  

As she turned around to her hands and knees. She recorded herself doggy style, capturing her belly and the mess of her pussy from behind. Her lips were drenched, red, and swollen beyond belief, with an umbilical cord that still connected her firstborn to her. 

This time, the sensation of labor was different. There wasn’t an unyielding weight and pressure that barreled down her birth canal, stretching her cervix in the process. No, there was more movement and little parts that poked from her. Little kicks against her cervix that sent lightning bolts of pain like Kenji had fucked into her.

With her ass in the air she spread her legs to accommodate the pressure quickly descending down into her hips. What slowly spread her cervix was even wider than the first head. “Unnngggghh!!!” Ami struggled. This progress was even slower, parts of her baby being squeezed against the walls of her sensitive uterus.

“AHH~!” Ami screamed as the pressure built up. The slightest amount of pain freeing itself from her and into her birth canal. She could feel her lips parting slightly. She stared between her legs to the camera and what she saw made her eyes grow wide. A little foot hung free from her vagina. 

Her baby was being born backwards.

The 19 year old mother felt the intoxicating panic of childbirth descend over her once again. Her strained body tightened at the baby’s smallest lips as she was forced to deliver her child’s little legs first. “Mnnhhh!” She moaned, the size of her baby’s feet reminded her of the size of Kenji’s fingers.

“Haa… Haahhh-hooooo!” Ami moaned, arching her back. From the quick descent of her baby, little limbs that poked free from her. The other leg came free and Ami was halted on little gasps. She recognized the width of a hip that spread her wide and spread her legs even further.

“Hoo… Hoo… Nggggghhhhuuuu!” She groaned as she felt the baby’s thighs and butt emerging from her vagina. Her pants eased the end of the contraction while the hips emerged to stretch her in new, exciting ways

With every exhale she could feel the baby’s wet body begin to slide towards her opening. Ami’s body ached as her needy clit demanded attention. The vibrator used for her scene was still in arms reach.

She jacked up the wand until it hurt to hold and propped against her body. She could feel the tip of the vibrator against her baby's chest, buzzing the infant as well. “Ouuughhh!” she gurgled . “Sorry baby… It just feels so good.” Ami apologized to her unborn child.

As her hips buzzed with the intensity of the vibrator she could feel more of the younger sibling’s torso being born from her. Her opening clung to every detail of her child. But, she wasn’t done. Ami needed more. “It’s going too quickly… I need to cum… I need to cum!!” She begged as the body started to follow the legs quickly.

Her breaths began to quiver while she edged herself in childbirth. But now, her body was too good at giving birth. The climb towards her orgasmic high would be prematurely ended from the delivery of her child. She wasn’t going to finish before the head was out.

Ami panted in desperation. The twin mother’s shaky legs spread as she viewed herself from behind against her camera. Her daughter’s body had been born up to her ribs. She aligned her partially born child upright between her legs and sunk her breech child directly back into her birth canal.

“OUUUNNNGGHGHHH!!!” she groaned with a depraved shutter. The infant's legs kicked from beneath her. The flailing limbs punished the mothers delicate areas showing signs of lively activity.

With heavy heaves she stared at herself on her phone. Her pussy swallowed her child back into her. Shame clouded her childbirth as she gave into her hedonistic urge to use her daughter's body like a sex toy. All of the progress was undone. Her contractions and abdomen ripping pushes went to waste.

“I’m so sorry baby…” Ami slurred. Her hips grinded, feeling the wonderful size of the fetus she had gestated. The thought of this child being any bigger drove her wild. “You’re making me feel so good.” The head of the vibrator was glued to her clit, it even touched the baby’s body as she redied herself for the torso to exit her a final time.

“I'm a sick bitch, I'm sick, I’m… So… SICK!!!” She pushed while riding the baby’s body gently back into her. As she felt her orgasm build from deep within her hormonal body Ami lifted her hips, feeling her pussy finally yield to childbirth.

Her pussy twitched around the baby’s body as more and more of its body appeared from her. In the intensity, an elbow popped free, then, a wrist. 

“Unnnnnggghhh!!! Hoooo!!” She pushed and another arm fell free from her breech birth. Thick fluids oozing down her daughter's body.

“S-shit… I’m gonna cum… The head, holy fUCK THE HEAD!!”She announced with hysterical giggles. 

“I’m gonna cum giving birth!” She stared at her baby’s dangling body where she stared at her phone camera. She imagined her phone to be the watching eyes of somebody equally as excited to watch her erotic birth.

“Cum for me…! Cum with my baby!” She begged the camera as her hips gyrated for the final contraction. Ami felt the characteristic bind of her womb. She was grinding against the vibrator, grunting for her climax.

“Nnnggh-! Nnngghh-!! OooOOOHHH!!!!!!”Ami’s vocal chords shrilled into a scream that filled the acoustic walls of the porn studio as the combination of her child birth and the vibrator brought her to toe curling elation.

Her hips recoiled like a shotgun blast as the breech head violently ejected from her tight pussy. The rest of the body slapped against the floor with a wet collision. Immediately, the room filled with the healthy wails of Ami’s baby girl. 

She looked down at her appropriately deflated stomach until she was sure there was no surprise triplet waiting for her. And with two infants in hand she stopped the recording. 

With the footage on her phone she wondered if maybe, just maybe this video would become larger than the footage that Director Tonaka had captured of her. 

“There was only one way to tell.” She thought to herself as she smiled down at her phone. In just a moment, the footage of Ami giving birth was released, free for the entire world to see.

[oftenwantedafton]

Sticky Fingers - Steve Raglan/William Afton x Goth Female Reader

Rating - Explicit

Warnings - sexual content

Summary - You’ve had a habit of taking things that don’t belong to you since childhood. The streak of kleptomania carries you though to adulthood, where you’ve decided to alleviate the boredom of your new office job by knicking whatever catches your eye.

Completely unaware that you yourself have caught someone else’s.

Also available on AO3

It starts with a compact mirror.

Just a cheap little thing with plastic gems, something that catches your eye when you’re out shopping with your mother and she’s distracted for an agonizingly long amount of time. It fits so neatly in your palm and slips into your jacket pocket effortlessly.

The propensity to steal extends into your teenage years and then into early adulthood and your collection has grown. Costume jewelry and makeup and candy. Nothing of any significant value. Just whatever you can curl your fingers around and stow away at a moment’s notice. You’re good at avoiding suspicion, sneaking quietly away in your dark oversized hoodies, slouchy ripped jeans with deep pockets and loosely laced combat boots that have plenty of room to spare for the odd trinket.

Today you’re killing some time at a strip mall before you head into work. A pot of black lip gloss smothered in silver diamond dust winks at you from one of the shelves. Your eyes light up, mascara coated lashes lifting appreciatively. Such an easy thing to palm. No pesky security tag. Your black polished nails tuck around it securely. You add a miniature version of a fragrance that smells like cotton candy from the neighboring store. Some little skull earrings covered in cubic zirconia, easy enough to slip off the card they’re secured to. Amateur hour. Hardly any challenge. You walk away scott free.

***

You started working at the office two weeks ago.

Just a little temp job. Clerical work. Filing papers. Guiding clients to the correct social workers. Making appointments. That sort of thing.

It’s profoundly boring and you find your fingers itching for something to occupy them. You’ve always stolen from stores. Personal property wasn’t something you’d attempted yet.

And there wasn’t exactly a treasure trove of goods at your fingertips here. You’d hardly call walking away with a stapler or a pack of gum from someone’s purse tucked under the desk a triumph.

So now you’re scanning the interiors of the inside offices for anything that might catch your eye.

There’s a little rabbit figurine. White, small, rather plain. Just a humble porcelain figure. You’re not especially fond of bunnies and it’s certainly not your typical goth aesthetic. But there’s something about it. You notice it every time you lead someone back to the owner’s office. Middle aged guy. Silver in his hair and beard. Glasses. Everything a decade or so out of date. Older office equipment and technology and furniture. Clothes that have probably been in his wardrobe rotation for years. And this odd little figurine. Just sitting on one of the shelves when you walk in the room. Maybe it had sentimental value. Something from childhood. You should just leave it be. Your hands reach for it anyway when he’s distracted with a client. Cool to touch. Into the sleeve of your sweater it goes. Perfect sleight of hand. Magician’s trick. Watch me make a white rabbit disappear.

You sneak it into your mini backpack when you get back to your desk. It’s enough for today, you decide.

The afternoon is the busiest time of day. Far more people prefer to conduct business well past morning hours. Maybe other commitments keep them occupied until then. Bringing children to school. A dislike for getting ready in the early morning. You can certainly relate to the latter notion.

An inter office call startles you near the end of the shift. You’d been just about to gather your things and clock out. Many of the other office staff have left already.

You don’t recognize the voice at first. Can’t quite put a face together with it. The man is requesting a client list for tomorrow. You hardly think this is a pressing matter at this hour. And he could certainly look it up himself on the computer. But fine. You’d do it. Your last official act of the workday.

Steve Raglan. Hmmm. It was kind of familiar, now that you thought about it a little longer. The pages are warm when they exit the printer. You notice some of the text is faded. The toner cartridge needs to be replaced. You have no idea where it’s kept. It was still legible. He’d just have to make do or wait until tomorrow morning.

You make your way to the back offices. Most of the doors are closed. It’s a lot quieter now. No ringing phones or keyboard tapping or conversation.

Steve Raglan. Up ahead on the right. Oh. Yes. The guy with the rabbit. You tap your knuckles on the open door to announce your entrance. Step inside and find the space empty. After all that and the bearded man wasn’t even here. Maybe he’d gone to use the restroom. Well, not your problem anyway. You place the pages on the center of the desk blotter. Notice a nice looking pen. One of those fancy steel types. Silver. Sure, why not. A fee for services rendered. Now tucked into the waistband of your skirt.

The elevator is notoriously slow. You press the downward arrow button again as if that will make the passage any swifter. A soft chime to indicate it’s arrived. You step inside. The doors nearly slide closed before a hand interrupts them. Open once more.

It’s him. Bunny man.

You depress the button for the parking garage and tuck yourself back against the railing. The man fills the space with his presence. He’s taller than you’d realized. Not heavy, just solid. Intimidating in the confines of the elevator. You feel his eyes on you.

“I dropped off that client list you wanted. I left it on your desk. Sorry if the quality isn’t great. The printer is out of toner and I don’t know where they keep the spares. I can print it again tomorrow if you want.” You know you’re babbling. Trying to fill the awkward silence. Maybe feeling a little guilty about what you’d pilfered today. Two items from this social worker. Maybe a tad excessive.

No response. Not a nod, not a grunt, nothing. Just him watching you with those widely spaced eyes of his. Looming. The elevator settles and chimes. You’ve reached your destination.

You attempt to step out of the elevator when Raglan’s arm snaps out, blocking your path. The doors slide closed again.

“Do you know what I find so interesting? How you felt the need to take something that has absolutely no value, save sentimentality for its owner. And then added insult to injury by stealing one of my favorite fucking pens.”

Your heart drops. Oh shit. He knows.

“And then you couldn’t even do me the simple courtesy of printing out a couple of pieces of paper.”

You swallow nervously. What was the play here? Feign innocence? Just admit guilt and return the items and apologize? What did he want from you?

“What’s the real reason behind it? Looking for attention? Some teen angst bullshit you never outgrew? What’s the matter, were you not the favorite child at home? You decided to lash out by dressing in clothing that’s a cross between funeral wear and street corner attire—”

“—I was just fucking bored, okay? That’s it. There’s no deep mystery behind it.” You’re pissed. His words cut a little too deep. It’s part of his skill set as a career counselor. Intuition. A knack for seeing past the surface, the false fronts people put up. Discerning intrinsic value. God, did you feel you were fucking lacking right about now.

“Boredom. That’s the reason? Are you not given enough work to do?”

“Look, I’ll give you your stuff back, okay? Let’s just forget this ever happened.”

“Unfortunately for you, I am not the type to forgive nor forget.”

“So what, you’re going to narc on me?”

A slight smirk. You don’t think you like him wearing that gesture. “Not necessarily. Maybe I could be persuaded, just this once, to make an exception.”

Wait. Did he mean…?

“Why don’t we start by putting back what you stole, shall we?” Steve pushes the button to return to the floor of the offices. He’s made no move to step away this time, still lingering close to you.

A soft chime and hiss as the doors part. Eerily quiet. The lights have been dimmed. You notice a white rabbit’s foot on the keyring when the career counselor unlocks his office door.

There’s a slight rattle of lampshade and a soft click when he turns the light on, bathing the room in a cozy yellow glow. He tosses the keys onto the desk and removes his glasses, slipping them inside the leather eyeglass case tucked beside the keyboard. Some scattered pocket change rests nearby.

He turns to face you, lifting an eyebrow expectantly. You slip your mini backpack off your shoulders and unzip the inner compartment, withdrawing and handing him the rabbit. He returns it to the shelf it had been on originally. It looks so small in his large hands.

You start to reach for the pen still snug against your waistband. His hand clamps on your wrist, halting your progress. Lets his fingers explore, tracing to find the point of origin. Stroking along the side of your waist. The hem of your turtleneck sweater is nearly cropped and doesn’t quite cover your abdomen, a small band of flesh exposed between the bottom of your top and the waist of your leather skirt. The pen is warm from your body heat. He drags it upward slowly. You hardly dare breathe. Your face tipped up and his dipped down. Freed at last.

Raglan rests the finial against your bottom lip. Presses slightly. Your lips part. Eases the writing utensil between them. The barrel drags against your tongue. You can taste the metal. A gradual advance of the encased ink reservoir. Further still. Your heart hammers in your chest. Lips clamp down, applying suction as he withdraws it again. His breathing is loud, rapid. The metallic object drops from his fingers and lands on the carpet. His tongue replaces the void the pen has left behind.

You’d known he was about to kiss you, but it still catches you off guard. He presses against you and you stumble, colliding back against the table housing a coffee maker and corresponding supplies. The carafe rattles, packets of sugar spilling free of the bin they’re seated in. Those giant hands of his are now cupping your ass over the layers of panties and skirt. You’ve got a handful of his tie. Some ridiculous shade of purple. He’s stealing all your breath and you find yourself enjoying it, as insane as that sounds. Kissing a virtual stranger. Someone who’s old enough to be your father. And you like it.

You nip at his bottom lip. He releases your buttocks and tugs on your hair. Paints your throat with saliva. You hear a car alarm go off somewhere in the distance outside. Police siren. The office is downtown. There’s always something happening.

A hand up your skirt now. Your thigh high tights have roses embroidered on them. Calloused fingertips catch on the raised threads. You wonder what’s made them so rough. His beard is scratchy. You’ve never had a boyfriend with facial hair before. Fingers pressing at your crotch through the fabric of your panties, already damp with arousal. You feel him smile against your neck.

“Look at you. Shamelessly soaked,” he murmurs. “And why wouldn’t you be, dressed like this?” He’s inside your underwear now, scooping your fluid from your entrance and smothering your clit with it. You whimper. “You wanted to get attention and now you’ve got it, don’t you? Teasing and begging and…” His voice trails off softly, at odds with the finger he abruptly thrusts inside, eliciting a moan. “It’s going to be a tight fit, isn’t it?”

Steve works his finger in and out for a while, dragging a few more groans out of you before he adds a second. Your grip on his tie tightens. You hear some more things being dislodged from their orderly storage behind you. Catch sight of some red and blue flashing lights in your peripheral vision through the window, a response to wherever incident happened outdoors a little while ago.

“Your lips looked so good sucking my pen. I bet they’d be even more impressive wrapped around my cock.” The paired phalanges abandon your dripping pussy. He sucks them clean and then pushes on your shoulders. You take the hint and sink to your knees. A belt that looks very old with deep creases is the first barrier to your goal. Button and a zipper that catches stubbornly. Some rather lackluster briefs. What’s inside more than makes up for it.

Cut, flushed, thick and long. Stiff leather of your boots protesting against the way they’re placed, folding down over your toes. Your tongue swipes across his erection. He pushes down and guides it between your lips. Hand knotted in your hair. He’s taking charge, fucking into your mouth. Almost a gentleman at first, slow pace, shallow penetration. Letting you get accustomed to the size and feel of it. He tastes clean. You can detect a lingering scent of whatever soap he’d showered with that morning on his skin as he drags you closer to his body. Jerked away. Dragged closer. Slightly faster now. Inevitably your gag reflex protests at the intrusion. Too much saliva pooled in your mouth. The head of his cock stroking the inside of your cheek. Jabbing your throat. Making you struggle for air. Eyes pleading for mercy.

“So fucking good. I knew you would be. Swallowing that cock right down. I’d love to fill that mouth up but your cunt deserves a taste too.” He finally releases his grip in your hair and his prick slides free. Your chin is covered in spit. So is your neck. Several strands of hair are wetly clumped together. Eyes burning a little where the makeup has smudged. You’re willing to bet your features are dusted in silver glitter and smudged with streaks of charcoal.

He helps you to your feet, easily pulling you upright, then indicating for you to turn around and bend over. Skirt unzipped and moved. Panties tugged down to rest somewhere around your stocking clad knees. Your coworker fucks into you.

Your fingers reach for the table, wrapping around the edge. There is no introductory phase. He’s sunk down to the hilt. You are full. Stretched. A new ache to match your still stinging lips and sore throat.

“So fucking tight. But you’re taking me so well.”

You gasp short little pleas. For him to stop, for him to continue. You’re not sure which. A gnawing feeling deep inside. A light smack on one cheek. Fingers blanching newly reddened skin when they grip tightly. No one’s ever gotten you off this way. This vintage model of a man is going to be the first to do so. A buildup of pressure. The other hand now slapped down to grab your waist, the thrusts shuddering, sloppier, more frantic. Closer. Your pelvis shoving back to meet him. A wail of pleasure as the feeling crashes within you. A curse and a hot stream of fluid painting your insides. It leaks down over the stitched flowers and stems and thorns covering your thighs when he pulls out.

You already notice muscles protesting as you straighten up. You’re going to feel this even more tomorrow morning for certain. Steve’s already adjusted his clothing. You tug your panties back into place and zip your skirt back up. You’ll hit the restroom on the way out to finish cleaning up.

The career counselor retrieves the steel pen from the floor, tapping it against his palm before holding it out to you.

“Keep it.”

You accept the offering and it disappears, securely tucked away again.

“The toner cartridges are in the storage closet near the entrance. Middle shelf left side. I expect a new list on my desk first thing tomorrow morning.”

You nod, watching as he quickly straightens out the coffee bar and switches the desk lamp off before exiting the office and locking it once again. You’re more than a little taken aback by how casual the conversation is, considering he’d been fucking your brains out mere moments before.

“And one last thing. Keep your fucking sticky fingers to yourself. If you’re that bored, come see me. I’m sure I can find something to keep you occupied.”

Another smirk. You think you might like that little gesture after all.

[ladyofnegativity]

Heeeeey Tiny-! Okay so...

AHHDLRGSKSVDKVXSKSBRKRB. BITCH. WHAT THE FUCK. WHAT ACTUAL THE FUCK?!

How the hell did you make something so... SO-! ARGHHHHHH-! I CANT FIND THE WORDS-!!!

I'm blessed. SO FUCKING BLESSED.

THANK YOU. THANK YOU. THANK YOU-!

Okay okay okay. So! I'll try to do a deepdive on the newest installment of Human Effects.

BigBotNoStop: Alright mechs, I come bearing an inquiry. As you may have heard from some of my last posts, the newest additions to our crew are a thriving colony of soft, squishy humans. Word in the taproom is some have taken quite an interest in... extending cultural exchanges, if you catch my drift. Not really my field of experience and was hoping some of Xeno's here might have some input. 

Posted to Sublink: Human and cybertronian relationships?

But I'm curious, are interspecies acts even possible without harm? Their frames seem so fragile. One wrong motion and SPLAT! No more humans. quite a few members of our crew have shown interest in flirting... Thoughts? Suggestions for how to proceed with care- help a mech out!

(I don't know why, but this bot reminds me of Skids. I've been reading the other installments, and so far, my hunch on this is Skids.)

Blazemech: Yo! You got fleshies on your ship! Fragging jealousy!. Your ship is looking for any dock workers?

(Okay! So, from the context of what Blazemech wrote, I can tell that they aren't from the Lost Light. Perhaps a crew member from the Vis Vitalis, or some other ship? I don't know, but the name 'Blazemech' reminds me of FireStar(?), but judging from context, I don't think she'll want to work as a dock worker when she's second in command in the Vis Vitalis.)

TailOrTrails: Oh Primus, are we really having this discussion?? Look, I get the appeal of those soft little flesh bags. Really, I do - different wiring can be so freakin' hot. But there's no way a romp with one of those puny things ends well for them! Even accidentally bumping into a table puts them in the medbay. Think of the mess, One wrong thrust and you've got squish all over your plating.

(Riptide. Definitely Riptide. 'TailOrTrails' reminds me of a mech who has an aquatic themed alt mode, and we, Riptide turns into a boat. And from reading the other installments, Riptide acts hesitant yet intrigued.)

ISOCLEAN: Just download some holofacing and use your imagination if you're that jonesing for an organic interface. Trust me, it's not worth the risk - or hassle of cleaning up after. sure you can find something from the Human sites on Mechanophilia, slutty Show and shine or Car Washes. Stay shiny and keep those servos to yourself, mechs! Some curiosities are better left to fantasies.

(Honestly, I'm stumped with this one. I can't seem to find or remember someone who's a clean freak. Aside from Ultra Magnus, but then he wouldn't fit the mannerisms of ISOCLEAN. Fuck.)

Flyboi69: Don't leave a mech hanging, I want deets!, has anybot here actually gotten friendly with a fleshie before? I'm talking about hands-on experience. We've all gotten curious watching, but has the real thing lived up to the fantasy? 

(Tailgate??? I'm sorry, I REALLY don't know who this guy is. Could be Starscream, but it would fit with they way the text was worded.

I think it's Skywarp??? But then why would he be interested in humans???)

Pimptheride: Any tips for coaxing one into the berth, or does their tiny size mean you've got to take it slow and gentle? And most importantly... any videos out there of the deed? A mech's gotta do some, ah, research before taking the plunge. Hook a brother up if you've found any good amateur organic-on-mech action out there in the 'net. Gotta see it to believe it. 

(Haha! I read the name, and immediately thought of Knockout. Not because of the text or anything, but I just remembered that in Transformers: Prime, the animators decided to pimp out Knockout, hence the 'Pimptheride')

ScienceSorcerer: For reasons. Does anyone know if humans have both Spikes and Valves? Or if they have any human anatomy holos or books and such from Earth they are willing to sell for some decent Shanix.  

(Brainstorm. The mech that started it all. I'm betting everything that this is Brainstorm.)

T-Wrexz: Primus, you mechs are hungrier than fragging scraplets. As far as I know, relations between our kinds are still uncharted territory. Could be amazing, could end badly - who's to say until we try? Personally I'm keeping an optic out, just curious to see what new experiences those squishy aliens can offer us tough metal mechs. 

(Definitely Grimlock. The name gave it away.

I mean, do you know any other mech who has a T-Rex alt mode??? Yeeeeeah.

But what business does Grimlock have with humans??? To think that he'd be interested in humans in really funny to me.)

Bar-rizzla: Oho, look who's swapping tall tales. I've been keeping a close optic on our ships squishy company since they came aboard. And between you and me... I may have an in with their ambassador that could lead to some juicy first-hand intel. Just trying to track down the bot we think they are berthing with. Crews got bets out. Turns out they get just as curious about us big metal hunks as we are them!. The other night, their chat got particularly saucy after a few drinks. Lots of gossip and speculation about which lucky bot one of them might take for a private ride. 

(Easy pickings. This is Swerve. I know it is.)

WPHAS-Violation: I may have a certain special "human entertainment" vid I could share. Let's just say the organic in question got quite... friendly with an eager mini-con. You know where to find me if you're brave enough to watch! 

(I'm torn between giving this to Rewind or to Tapemix54. From context, I'd say WPHAS-Violation is from the Lost Light, but then what about Tapemix54??? Is Tapemix54 Soundwave???

👀 Who was this Minicon that got lucky... Hmmmmmm.)

Tapemix54: Oho, mechs - think you've got it bad now? You should've seen some of the real deviants back before the war. When I was still stationed on Petrex, I knew this one smuggler - went by the name Rattler. Sneaky little scraplet, but Primus if he didn't have the wildest stories. Rattler used to run goods across time and space, dodging security at every turn. He'd pop up out of nowhere selling the rarest exotic "pets" to rich senators and other high caste mechs looking for a thrill. I'm talking aliens so bizarre even our data banks had never heard of their kind. But the highest bidder always walked away with a new "plaything" to break in, if you catch my drift. Word was Rattler even had a collection of sentient organics that he'd let special clients "test drive" between runs. Humans were apparently a favourite - their smaller frames could take all sorts of creative handling. Rattler had vids, too, of course, to entice buyers. I saw one once, let's just say "versatile" doesn't begin to cover it. Naturally the vids have all been scrubbed by now. But I bet if you knew where to dig in the deep web or some easily swayable Archivist, you might find traces of Rattler's stash still floating around out there.

(Fuck. FUUUUUUCK. Now I'm thinking that this is Chromedome because he was stationed in Pretrex with Prowl when they were sent to investigate the assassination of Senator Sherma.

For all I care, Rattler could have been Swindle since... Y'know, he was trafficking humans. Though, now that I think about it, would Swindle even be old enough to do that??? FUUUUUUUUCK.)

"Old records saved of the Senator and his human Conjunx”

It's a file collection of holotapes and pictures: "Enjoy these are pre war photos of Senator Shockwave and his Human holding their sparkling" 

There are many holos and videos of the long gone senator smiling with his human perched on his shoulder, in the crystal garden with a young sparkling held in the human's arms. Videos of the sparkling playing with the two but the last The last holo looks like a family portrait with Shockwave’s frame in a lime green blue white paint with gold accessories,  his human lover is dressed in elegant robes and the small blue praxian sparkling held in their arms. Each holo is dated with the Iacon records seal of authentication. 

(Okay. Okay okay okay. I LOVE the fact that you decided to incorporate Laboratory Logs to Human Effects. Admittedly, I did not see that coming when I sent that ask. Smart move.

And uhhh... Now that a few mechs have seen the photos, wouldn't that mean that if they ever recognized a mech that looked a lot like Senator Shockwave's long lost sparkling, It'll further cement the fact that uhhhh.... Fuck. I think I lost the path.

Uhmmm... Think about it like this, when Ratchet sees the family photo and sees the little sparkling, wouldn't he recognize that it's Traxies?)

FlyBoi69: NO FREAKIN' WAY. Is this real?! *downloads files faster than Blurr* FRAG ME SIDEWAYS, I think I just popped a gasket! How in the PIT did you manage to dig up the holos of senator Shockwave, most of his speeches, debates and lectures were wiped. Where did you find this!

(Honestly though, I'm still not sure who this guy is. Could this be Misfire??? AHHHHHHH.

Who are you FlyBoi69?!)

Jackin0: of all mechs, with an actual human back in the Golden Age?!. I'm calling scrap on this being real. It's gotta be a flawless deepfake. By PRIMUS if true - to think ol' Shockers was living it up with a squishy. Maybe there's more to those Senatorial types than meets the optic...

(Jackie. Definitely Jackie. Ah! Sorry, I meant Wheeljack.

It's just cool to call him Jackie. ☺️)

T-Wrexz: Okay, I'll bite... but someone better explain to me RIGHT NOW how any of this computes! Last I checked, time travel and inter-species relationships were the stuff of erotic imagination, not legitimate pre-war archives. Tapemix, you better start talking. Where in the PIT did you source these files? How do we know they're authentic and not just an incredibly convincing parlour trick? Because if I'm gonna let these images ruin me, I wanna be ruined by the real deal! Spill it, mech. 

(I REALLY think this is Rewind. Cause Rewind likes to collect rare footage.)

Iacon-Records: Tapemix54 could i please request where you discovered these as i work with Iacon records and this here is history that needs to be preserved. I'm willing to talk with you through a contractor if you would be willing for us to add these back into the new hall of records. Cybertron has lost so much and to find something like this I ask that we find a way to preserve it.  

(Optimus. THIS IS OPTIMUS PRIME.

You can't get more Optimus than Iacon-Records.)

BigBotNoStop: Pit take me now... I think I may have to reassess everything I thought I knew about interface and partnerships. That human is holding a sparkling curled around them - frag if it isn't the most beautiful thing I've ever seen! If anything could make me believe in miracles, it's this! Tapemix, you glorious glitch - how can I ever repay such an enlightening gift?

(Okay. I'm getting more and more convinced that this is Skids.

On that note, I like to think that whoever managed to see the photos are going to think, 'I can have a sparkling with a human'.

Which is cool, but then a bummer if they found out that Tiny didn't actually carry Traxies but was instead adopted from a hotspot when he imprinted on Tiny.)

Tapemix54: These were filed only cycles after Shockwaves Emputra; they were added to the Iacon records by some Archivist under the title. 'I will Remember you for who you were'. This was right when the senate fell apart on the brink of the war. From my knowledge of information on Rattler he apparently had an outlier who he got to take them to different times since he was a shuttle made it easier to transport. That's from the  records that still exist at least. I'll take you up on that offer Iacon-records. 

(Okay. That mysterious archivist? Definitely Optimus.

...

But wasn't Optimus a police officer during that era??? Wasn't he working with Sentinel at that time???

And who's this mysterious shuttle??? Omega Supreme??? JDDKSJDLDHDKGKSGS.

And who's RATTLER?! So many questions and so little answers.)

Oh, and Tiny? I really want to thank you for humoring me. You have no idea how much help you've given.

And uhhh.... Yeah....

ACCEPT MY LOVE AND APPRECIATION.

꒰⁠⑅⁠ᵕ⁠༚⁠ᵕ⁠꒱⁠˖⁠♡ TINY ♡⁠˖⁠꒰⁠ᵕ⁠༚⁠ᵕ⁠⑅⁠꒱

[crabsnpersimmons]

Tally

had this idea for a drabble to share a bit more on Moon’s upgrades in the hairdresser AU, since there was some interest about a certain detail mentioned in my previous post (that "last part")

Word Count: 1,567

Read time: ~8 min

some content warnings:

descriptions of body dysmorphia including descriptions of skin picking, which borderline self harm on a metal robot body—i took a lot of creative liberties to translate the signs and symptoms into a robot experience, so it isn’t meant to be the most realistic depiction of body dysmorphia disorder, but just a head's up just in case

descriptions of memories of past traumatic experiences

just angst overall

that’s all i can think of, but please let me know if there’s anything you’d like me to add!

“Home sweet home~!” Eclipse warbles once Moon opens the door to their small apartment. Without missing a beat, he bends down and slips through the door frame, with his precious cargo still on his back.

“Clip! Put me down first!” Sun cries from his position in their little piggyback. He scrunches himself closer to the taller bot’s back as they pass through the threshold, his sunken in rays only barely missing the top of the door frame.

Moon chuckles as Eclipse makes a bee-line for their box TV. It’s the same every day, but he never got tired of it. After closing up shop for the day, they returned home. Unfortunately Sun’s legacy code prevented him from moving about in the dark. That didn’t stop him from trying each night after closing—marching with his eyes glued to street lamps until he ran out of light. Then Eclipse would carry him the rest of the way to the bus stop, where he’d just stay until they got returned to their apartment. The lights of the hallways would stir Sun back awake, but Eclipse always insisted on carrying him the rest of the way to their door—just as he always had since their days in the daycare.

Different city, different space, different jobs—but Eclipse never seemed to change.

Still carrying Sun with one set of arms, he plops himself down in front of the TV and pulls out his game controller with other set. Once Sun extracts himself, his free hands immediately reach for the other controller.

As the old game system is booting up, Moon moves to make a quiet escape.

“Moon,” but Sun knew him too well. “Bedroom.”

There is a whir of fans before Moon responds, “Aye aye, captain.”

No sooner had Moon entered their bedroom that Sun had joined him. Their room was always small—they could only afford so much with their combined income—but it always felt smaller when the sunshine bot cornered him like this.

Silently, Moon turns around, not looking his counterpart in the eye. Instead, Sun extends his hand into his field of vision, waiting. This is not the first time, but it never gets easier for either of them. After a beat, Moon lifts his own bulky hand and places it in Sun’s slender palm. Sun gives him a gentle squeeze before rolling up his counterpart’s sleeve to reveal his blue arm, marked in fine silver trails.

There is a brief pause before Sun leads Moon to their ensuite bathroom and sits him down on the closed seat of the toilet. He looks away for a brief moment just to take out his amateur tools from the drawer. Just a collection of things he has scavenged for basic upkeep. Of course none of this was in his programming. But just as he resolutely marched under streetlamps, Sun pushed his code to its limits to keep them afloat. He sits down on a nearby stool and gets to work on Moon’s right arm where six thin trails shined against the royal blue.

He gets to work and there is silence between them. Before there used to be angry and desperate cries. When Sun discovered his first scar, he insisted he go to parts and services. But they both knew he wouldn’t go back there. Never.

So they had to improvise—and that is what they have always excelled at. Things got easier in that regard after the PizzaPlex had burned down. They could finally leave those walls, leave their troubled past, carve out lives for themselves, care for themselves. They lucked out finding the Boss when they did and now they can do honest work and get paid and live. Finally live.

But still their troubled past stains their new lives. The PizzaPlex may be a long forgotten memory, but they still bear scars and quirks that run deeper than chipped surface paint or legacy processes. Despite all these years in this body, Moon still bumps into things, miscalculating his size and reach. All it took was a bump against his utility cart this afternoon to make him acutely aware of the arm that is not his. The ball-joint neck that cannot move the way he wants it to. The clunky fingers and the foreign nails. They are not his. They are not his. And he is thrust back into the brightly light cylinder, waking up again to a body that isn't his. Waking up again to a role he never asked for. Waking up with piece of him missing. Wondering if the body he remembers is just a dream and he needed to learn to wake up, wake up, wake up--

“You’ve got to stop doing this.”

Sun’s voice breaks him out of his thoughts—and he knows this. Perhaps that’s why Sun is always nagging him. To fill his head with something useful again.

“Some of these scratches can’t be buffed out, and there’s only so much I can do,” Sun works on a light scratch on his left hand.

“And you won’t see a mechanic,” Sun tuts.

“No.”

“I know,” Sun sighs, letting go of the scratch. It’s barely visible now, the kind of imperfection you would have to know about and intentionally look for. The kind that Moon keeps a tally of. His body is covered with tally marks that only he can see.

“But either you stop or I will take you to the mechanic… or,” Sun’s hands drift down to Moon’s hand, holding his fingers gently. “…I disable your retractable claw function.”

“Ha,” the short laugh spills out of Moon before he can think to stop it. “Not when I’m the only one who can give proper hair washes.”

There is a slight pause before Sun pulls his hands away and lightly knocks Moon’s head. “Well, if your claws are sharp enough to carve metal, I don’t want them anywhere near our customer's heads. Besides, we have Sunshine who can help with that now.”

Moon hums uncommittedly, staring at Sun's handiwork at erasing his. Out of the corner of his eye he notices a sway in Sun’s steps as he puts away his tools. As much as Sun pushes his code to the limits and watches over him, Moon also watched out for him. They were, after all, once one. No one knows them better than they do.

Moon’s hand rises up Sun’s arm. “Bed time?”

“Yeah,” Sun says wearily. Even with the lights on, his battery was running low, after a full day of work, walking under street lamps, and fixing Moon's mistakes. The least Moon can do is play this role—a role he gladly performs.

Moon nods as he reaches out to steady Sun before connecting to their shared internal chat.

M: Clip. Sun and I are going to sleep.

E: K.

S: Don’t stay up too late. Make sure you charge up.

E: K.

With that, Moon helps Sun to their bed. They could only afford a one-bedroom apartment, and even then their landlord definitely wasn't too keen about renting to three large robots, and their lack of credit history. It was only thanks to a referral from Boss that they landed the place. But they couldn't complain. There are robots, the don't really need to sleep in bedrooms, but they had one so they might as well use it.

Moon assists Sun into bed before stepping back to get the lights. He watches as Sun plugs in his charging cable in before lying down on the pillows. His eyes never leave Sun’s as darkness falls on the room.

There is the familiar whirring sound of gears moving as rays retract and metal shifts colour. If Moon closes his eyes, he could almost feel those gears in himself. Grinding away. Putting Sun in his nap. And him waking from his own slumber. Him coming alive. Waking in his own body.

S: Moon.

There he goes, filling his head again. Even when powered down, Sun still watches over him. Moon hums in response and shuffles to the bed. His eyes never leave Sun as the bed dips from the added weight, as he slots himself up next to Sun. One arm slips under the gap between his neck and the bed. The other goes over, holding him in place. His legs find their place behind the bend of Sun’s.

His upper hand rubs circles on the familiar surface. Where these hands had left scratches on blue metal, they now caressed the smaller yellow surface.

Different city, different space, but at least he can still hold his body. Although it is not the same colour, it still feels like he remembers. The slenderness of the forearms. Every fine joint in the long fingers. He pulls Sun closer, if only to be closer, if only to be himself again.

But a hard pressure against his chest stops him every time.

Behind layers of clothes, the inflexible metal underneath always keeps them apart. Never flush together when they are in this position. It will always be there to jab into his chest every time he tries.

A reminder of how far he’s fallen.

thank you for reading!

want something to cheer you up? go and check out the meme art i shared yesterday! Moon is there to hug that sad away!

want more heartbreak? look verrrry closely at moon's arms in that meme art (or if it's hard to see the image description in the ALT mentions it)

[bubble-popping]

day 20!! i could technically call this a cryptid c!dream au but it's only for like .5 seconds lol

If asked, Technoblade would not be able to properly describe what the hell he was looking at right now.

For context, he began noticing something was off about two weeks ago. At that point, he was well into his retirement arc, enjoying the simple pleasures of life despite the incessant voices buzzing in his mind. Farming potatoes--by hand, not leeching off the work of two dozen slav-minions, taking his time in cooking and eating his meals without care for how much saturation the food gave and instead caring for how they tasted on his tongue, and taking up some hobbies to pass the time. He tried lots of things; knitting, painting, even basket-weaving, just to name a few. Now, he didn't particularly excel at any of these things, but that wasn't the point. He loved his ill-fitting scarf of varied yarns and colors, his amateur rendition of "The Lament of Icarus," and his too-many-to-count unfinished baskets that, at the very least, could make decent firewood.

And then, of course, there were the many nights he spent curled up on his couch reading his favorite classics, a warm cup of tea at his side and the fireplace flickering with light. It was on one such night that the 'first incident,' as he dubbed it, happened.

An odd sound he'd never heard before came from his basement. He'd recently renovated it to be more of a proper storage area--and rearranged the level below it into less of a crowded, noisy place to stick imprisoned villagers. He'd ignored it at first, assuming some stray animal had wondered in to escape the cold, but then he heard the undeniable sound of one of the chests opening.

His promise to swear off violence did not extend to no-good thieves breaking into his house. The voices grew loud, enthusiastic about the potential for blood.

Techno grabbed an iron sword from a nearby chest--his netherite gear was tucked safely in the attic, reserved for only the most dire of situations--and stalked down the ladder. A single torch illuminated his immediate vicinity, but whoever was down there wisely stayed out of the light's reach. He squinted in the darkness, confusion on his expression and tension in his broad frame. His grip on the hilt tightened and his ear flicked when he heard another chest open followed by sounds of shuffling and clinking.

Slowly, silently, Techno rounded a shelf of chests and was able to make out a shape. A very strange and unfamiliar shape. Something lanky, furry, and light-colored.

"Hey!" He called, tone firm and commanding. The creature turned its head towards him. Glowing green eyes pinned him in place and stopped his voice in his throat.

Just as quickly as it realized it'd been discovered, it was gone. The chest it was searching slammed closed. Green particles floated where the thing previously occupied, dissipating into nothing.

He blinked, several times, jaw on the floor. His brain struggled to process what just happened.

"HEH!?" The voices shared his sentiment.

That was two weeks ago. Since then, he'd had a handful of other run-ins with the 'stray Ender-cat,' the title he'd decided on after witnessing its ability to teleport and propensity to scrounge for food--and Techno only assumed that because it didn't ever take anything else from his chests. (Among the other suggestions the voices gave were 'little meow meow,' 'Ranboo lite,' and 'cutie patootie pookie bear.' These were not chosen for obvious reasons.) It also exclusively came during the night, which Techno was especially peeved about because it really messed up the sleep schedule he'd been cultivating for the last couple months.

But, if he was really honest, it didn't bother him as much as he thought it would--certainly not as much as the voices did. The stray wasn't destructive or too intrusive. It only rifled through his basement storage, nothing that Techno held close to heart, and even then it hardly took much. Despite how it took more each time it visited, still Techno remained mostly indifferent.

Until this very moment where he found the overgrown cat harassing his poor bee farm, in the middle of the day. It ransacked the hives, ignorant of the furious bees buzzing in the air as it broke open yet another one of their homes to access the sweet honey inside. Although, this did provide the rare opportunity to get a good look at it. All white, all fluff, long limbs ending in sharp claws. Ears either side of its head, short, blunt horns on its crown, a thin tail with a thick tuft at the tip. With honey, grass stains, and flower petals covering it from head to toe beans? Oh gods above, his greatest weakness! And Chat's, apparently, because they were raving and cooing over the cuteness. For once he agreed with them because-

No! Techno had to focus. Adorable or not--and adorable it was--he was still appalled by its brazen actions. The gall to be so careless, so reckless, and in broad daylight! Clearly, Techno was wrong in his initial assumption that the creature was just hungry and harmless.

He cleared his throat, loudly, halting the stray mid-lick of a honeycomb. It looked to him, tail pausing from where it'd been wagging, and slowly retracted its lime green tongue, setting the comb on the ground. Well, at least it had the decency to look embarrassed. And then, like every time before, it vanished in a flurry of green particles, leaving Techno to clean up the mess.

A quick glance around revealed the extent of the damage. Only three hives had survived the attack. Thankfully, he'd caught the stray before it completely ruined every part of the farm.

It was in that moment that Techno knew he had to do something about this. (No, Chat, not adopt it.)

[sweetdreamsjeff]

Thank you Steven! Thanks so much!

Description:

Jeff Buckley | HMV Superstore | Toronto, ON, Canada | 10/27/1994

Jeff Buckley and his band made a special appearance at the HMV Superstore in Toronto, Ontario, Canada, on October 27, 1994. They were in town for a concert that took place the following evening at Trinity Church (aka Trinity Centre/Trinity-St. Paul's); I will post some snippets of the aforementioned concert in the pinned comment. Coincidentally, as a native Torontonian, I purchased my vinyl copy of Grace at the same store, completely oblivious to the fact that Jeff had played there about a decade earlier.

I would like to give thanks to my friends Alex Haitz and Cory, who both helped enhance the audio-visual quality of this footage, which was originally even more diluted. I would especially like to extend my sincerest gratitude to Karen Pace, who not only organized this event, but gave me a copy of her VHS transfer, which she made directly from the master tape. Here is a description of the video, in her own words:

"The footage is very poorly shot, very amateur. Our regular videographer was not working that shift, so it fell to one of the floor employees to hold the camera, which she did not do very well. It's very shaky. But it exists.

As far as I know, no one owns the original copy that would have been in the DJ booth at 333 Yonge St. after I left there in 1997. When the store closed, I bet you can investigate for decades and never find out what happened to the stuff that was in the DJ booth! I made a copy for myself right after the in-store, as I was the host for it that afternoon. The in-store happened because I asked for it from the label rep, and Jeff did it as a favour to me, because I had met him in New York City at CB's Gallery in December 1993, and again at his first 2 Toronto shows at Ultrasound and C'est What. He was a mutual friend of my New York singer friend Peter Stuart, who would go on to form the band Dog's Eye View. Jeff told me that he never did in-store performances, that he hated to do them, but he acquiesced and did it as a favour to me when I asked for it through the label rep. I will be forever grateful that we got that small performance at HMV.

The set was just over 30 minutes long, maybe 40 minutes, if I remember correctly. However, the store employee who videotaped it only put in a 30-minute tape into the video recorder, so the performance cuts off after 30 minutes and no one on the planet has the rest of the show on any footage anywhere. I know that for a fact. Cell phones with cameras didn't exist then for audience members to shoot it!

As for the original tape of his HMV set: the usual camera person was indeed Derek Conant, but he wasn’t working the day of Jeff’s in-store. So a floor person, who usually helped customers or handled cash, held the camera. The camera is not steady, the shots are blurry then come into focus. She had no experience and did us a favour by holding the camera while I did the interview. Derek was my cameraman for the next 3 years, as well as the marketing manager, Sara Kupusa, once in a while at the beginning, then Christopher Mills was hired to do all video editing and interview and live shooting as he was a film student at Ryerson. But on Jeff’s in-store day, we were still in the very beginning stages of having in-stores and video-taping them with an interview, to be able to edit them together to play in the store as a reel. She (the videographer) only put in a 30-minute tape into the video camera. So silly! None of us even double-checked to make sure it was a longer tape! It was a VHS camera. It taped right onto a VHS tape.

After the in-store, I copied the original VHS tape onto a used VHS tape from home that was 45 minutes long, so in the middle of that song, it cuts out to whatever else was on my personal VHS tape (a news reel for something), then goes blank. So we only have 30 minutes of that set. The set lasted about 40 minutes, if I recall. I don’t have a set list for it to know what songs came after that. Maybe some fans who were there wrote that down?

I have no idea what would have happened to all the stock at HMV, nor all the in-store video tapes that would have been in the DJ booth when it closed down. I assume they were all carted off to the dump. There is no head office that they would have been shipped to, and I assume everyone was given their walking papers without being able to take anything from the store. That’s how it usually works. The doors are locked and everything in the store is thrown out."

With that said, if anyone watching this video, and reading this description, has the master tape, or knows who might have it ― assuming that it even still exists (as Karen implied, it likely doesn't) ― please get in touch with me, as I would like to have it digitized for posterity. I should also note that the poor sound is due to this video being in mono. My friend, Cory, surmised that the master tape might have stereo sound, though.

[eolewyn1010]

Amateur sewing - The Goddamn Pirate Poet Shirt

So. I made a thing.

A vaguely late-18th / early-19th century-style shirt. And I'm saying vaguely because, while this has about the right look, I took a few liberties in construction.

First of all: I wanted ruffles. None of the tutorials I used added ruffles because, frankly, that's a whole lot of hemming work for not that much length of fabric, but I wanted the frill. Behold. Also visible in this picture: The dropped shoulders, which are in fact according to the historical references.

The collar from its better side. The other side, I had to extend with a little placket as this shirt has two modes: slutty pirate (open cleavage) and 18th c decency (closed with a cravat), and for the latter option I wanted to be able to shut it with buttons. For which I apparently took the wrong measure from my neck. Problem-solving!

The front placket isn't the prettiest thing in the world, but the closed collar is meant to be covered by the cravat anyway. And check out my darling nacre buttons! I love them so much that I used two on every cuff despite that not being strictly necessary. Probably would have gotten away with one on each side. But. Look. Shiny.

Altogether, I think I used up, like, 70 meters of linen thread? Which is not super economical, but 1st, I backstitched really everything, except when I was felling over the (already backstitched) hems. 2nd, there were the underarm gussets, and wherever a reinforcement patch / strip could go on, I put one in, such as both sides of the collar, the slits to both leg sides, the shoulders and cuffs. And 3rd, there were my neat lil' additional bits such as the long, long ruffles, the tie I added into the cleavage, and the cravat.

I learned that linen thread is a bit tricky; it's very strong, but it's not super even, and it knots easily. It also cannot be used in a machine, but I did this entire thing by hand anyway, so that didn't bother me all that much. Not because I'm a stickler for historical practice, but because sewing machines are scary. I may have to tackle this fear for the sake of my fingertips.

I need to work on my estimation of seam allowance, because I had to clean up the edges on the inside of my shoulder/sleeve seam with twill tape, because I hadn't left enough seam allowance to hem over all that scrunchy, ruffly bit. Twill tape is probably not historical practice for such a shirt; I think this only became a thing after Spinning Jenny was invented, but it served me well. I also need to work on my sewing vocabulary, because I learned most of it online - and thus, English, confusing the hell out of my friend when I didn't understand my mother tongue's term for "seam allowance" because I had literally never heard it XD

Fun fact: I bought the linen for this literally years ago (a bed-set, because it's a lot of yardage for a relatively cheap price; I still have lots leftover). But only now did I sit down and make a shirt out of it, and I love it. The sleeves are so poofy! And all that seaming was worth it; the shirt already had a round in the washing machine, and it's perfectly intact. I think I did a good job!

The cravat is, aside from the twill tape inside and the buttons, the only thing that's not 100% linen, because my mom crocheted the lace trim for me from cotton yarn. My draft is not quite how a historical cravat from the 18th / 19th century turn would look, but I honestly don't care; the combination makes the shirt so goddamn fabulous! I love this; it was super worth the work. Time to get on a snazzy waistcoat to go with this <.<