#op did such a good job i was so inspired

[maxlarens]

OP: well, that isn't fucking relevant

pairing(s): oscar piastri x mercedes driver!reader

summary: someone tries to threaten your job, oscar has some choice words for him. (OR: the trials and tribulations of being a woman in a male dominated sport)

word count: 2.7k+

an: i kinda hate the white knight trope but i still wrote this lol, it scratches an itch and i think driver!reader did a sufficient amount of defending of herself beforehand. anyway, this is a one shot that's kind of connected to my smau series just a girl. enjoy!!!!! [also standard disclaimer: this does not reflect the opinions of any real life people/companies/organisations/etc. it is fiction. thank you]

You’re no stranger to sexism in Formula racing— you knew going into this that you’d have to deal with thinly veiled remarks about your gender and purposefully obtuse questions from reporters who think they know more than you about the sport you’ve dedicated your life to. You had to deal with it when you were karting, you had to deal with it during your stint in F2, and you have to deal with it now.

The fact of the matter is that some people do not think you belong here, and therefore are entirely unable to integrate the reality that you are very much here to stay, into their worldview. You’re lucky to have somehow earned Lewis’ loyalty, which had brought the Mercedes contract and the support of Toto simultaneously. Mercedes-AMG aren’t making leaps and bounds into the world of feminism, but you’re grateful for the seat regardless. You’re here and not going anywhere if you can help it.

You try your best to stay off the bad parts of social media, so as not to be subjected to the barrage of hate comments and death threats directed your way. You’re tough— but no one’s that tough. It’s fine for the most part. You focus on the racing, how the car feels, your performance and improving it weekend after weekend. You try at least. You’d love to leave your gender entirely out of the mix, you don’t think it’s relevant frankly. But unfortunately, the reporters do. (And so do some choice individuals working on the grid, who just can’t seem to keep their big fucking mouths shut about you.)

It’s disappointing, sure— but not surprising to sit down at a press conference and get a smattering of questions about your rumoured relationships and extracurricular activities when every other driver gets fifty questions practically thrown at them about their performance, or FIA regulations, or the track conditions. The part that bothers you the most is honestly just the lack of interest. It’s like they don’t think anything you have to say about the sport is valuable so they just don’t ask you the same questions they bother to ask the men. That probably is the actual case too.

So— y’know— you’re not that shocked when a reporter from some sports blog you’ve never heard of straight out asks if you “expect to be switched out with another female driver next year?”

The room goes dead fucking silent in a way that you do actually find satisfying. It’s good to know that most of the reporters in the room do know a tactless question when they hear one, or at least that you inspire enough fear in people that they’re waiting with bated breath to hear your response. Next to you, Oscar tenses, you can feel it where your thighs are touching. You can imagine his face right now without looking, that pinched micro-grimace he does. The barest hint of a crease in the bridge of his nose as he tries not to scowl. You want to put your hand on his knee and squeeze it in thanks.

You don’t. Instead, you frown and cock your head to the side, meeting the eyes of the reporter across the room.

Slowly, measuredly, you repeat, “I’m sorry, do I expect to be replaced with another female driver next year? Is that what you said?”

He nods, bringing the microphone closer to his mouth as if you really couldn’t hear him the first time, “Yes, yeah. That is what I asked.”

You hum, pursing your lips as if you’re sincerely considering his question. You can see a few people in the crowd who are cringing already, some of them have been on the receiving end of your tendency to play with your food before you eat it. Your ego feels pretty good about that.

“Why would Mercedes want to replace me?” you ask in your most polite voice, feigning real curiosity to this man who you doubt has done any research at all on you.

“Um,” he errs, some of his former unflappable confidence leeching out of his tone, “Well, to give more women a chance in Formula One—”

You start to speak over him, done with entertaining his ignorance. You bite, “—there are other teams for that, actually. I don’t think it’s presumptuous to say that I’ve earned my seat at Mercedes, or that I’ve proven that I belong here so far this season. In which, I have not qualified or placed below a P7. And I certainly don’t think it’s fair of you to ask if I am going to voluntarily give up my hard-earned seat to another person because you think I am here because of some women’s inclusion effort by Mercedes. And, okay, who knows, maybe I am. But I am not giving up this seat without a fight, nor do I imagine that Mercedes are in a rush to find someone to replace me right now. You’ll have to ask someone to confirm that though.”

You wind down after that, punctuating your point with a firm nod; some of the fight and the fury seeping out as you start to reckon with the potential consequences of your outburst. Mercedes’ PR rep will have something to say surely, you’re just hoping you haven’t crossed some kind of uncrossable line. Another part of you doesn’t quite care as you watch the reporter gape like a fish out of water, feeling rather satisfied that you’d put him in his place.

Eventually, the room recovers and moves on from you. Checo is getting asked his opinion on tyres while you share a furtive glance with Oscar. He smiles approvingly, mouth closed and the apples of his cheeks pushed up into his eyes. You feel the urge to touch his knee again but resist, instead smiling back as covertly as you possibly can. A warm feeling spreads in your chest and you almost forget about the reporter and his stupid question in favour of watching Oscar’s slow-burn smile.

Mercedes is fine with it, it turns out. Apparently, you’re doing the heavy lifting for them in the feminism department and all they have to do is have Toto or someone come out and say a few words in agreement. It suits them fine, they don’t need to take any hard stances and you get the blame if anything goes horribly wrong. That grates at you, of course it does. But you’ve got a seat, haven’t you? You’re not going to give it up because Mercedes are covering their asses like the multibillion-dollar company that they are.

It means you’ve avoided the all-hands-on-deck PR meeting you thought you’d be stuck in tonight, but it’s left you in too sour a mood for this party. It’s some function, fundraiser, something or other and they’ve invited all the teams, drivers and ‘important’ FIA staff. This means there’s an inordinate amount of people here and you’re really not into it.

But you’re still here. You’ve shoved yourself into a cute, strappy, black top, and a denim mini-skirt and you’ve even added some cute jewellery in a feeble attempt to match whatever over-the-top outfit Lewis has arrived in. It’s at least a step up from your usual team polo and leggings, or the Mercedes hoodie that you pull on over it. You’re comfortable. You’re fine.

You pull a hand out of the pocket of your oversized leather jacket as Oscar comes back over with your beer. You smile at the expression on his face as you take the neck in between your fingers. He’s scowling openly, the corners of his lips curled up in distaste.

“Busy?” you ask, then you hold up the beer in thanks, “Cheers, by the way.”

“Hmm, too crowded,” he affirms, “I lost Lando.”

You shrug, taking a swig of the refreshingly cold beer, “Actually? Or did he run off with someone?”

Oscar snorts, “Yeah, no. He got into a conversation with Max.”

You laugh, “Yeah, in that case, I reckon we’ll see Lando in a few hours.”

“Definitely.”

The two of you share an amused smile before you’re back to looking into the crowd because sometimes, it’s hard for you to look at him— like looking directly into the sun. You’re aware of him in your periphery, standing there and rocking back and forth on his heels, occasionally taking a sip of his drink. He looks away for a moment, and you turn to look at him. Taking in the endearing swoop of his hair, the scattering of freckles and moles on the side of his pale face, the long line of his neck disappearing into the collar of his shirt. You shift your eyes slightly to the right of him, to the patchwork of vents and scaffolding in the ceiling, feigning as if you’d only been casually looking his way.

“That reporter was a piece of work,” Oscar says once he’s drifted his attention back to you.

You roll your eyes on instinct, and groan, “Tell me about it, holy shit, Osc. What an asshole. I don’t know if he was just stupid or legit didn’t know a single thing about me.”

“Mm,” Oscar hums in agreement, “and I like how no one asked you a single question after that. Way to go guys, that’s exactly how you show your support.”

You roll your eyes, still smiling a little at the contented feeling you’ve got in your chest, “I know, right. Trust, they all got on their keyboards afterwards to wax lyrical about how deserving I am of my seat. It’d be fucken’ nice if they acted like it during press conferences.”

“Yeaah,” he sighs, half-laugh, half-exhale, “It’s unfair.”

“Fucken' right,” you gripe, tipping your head back and letting a slip of fizzy beer cascade down your throat— the alcohol, though meagre, leaves you feeling loose, a little reckless, “It sucks Osc. God, I just want to be respected. If I had a dick and balls I’d be fucking killing it, dude. This is my rookie season, I’ve been scoring points every race. Except for the DNF, which was not my fault. But, fuck me, they don’t give a shit.”

You squeeze your eyes shut to stave off the angry tears that are sitting behind your eyelids, threatening. When you open them Oscar is staring at you, frowning, his brown eyes huge and sparkling and sympathetic. They’re like a black hole you want to fall into. Your heart squeezes. He’s so— ugh. Quickly, your mind supplies about a hundred answers to that question: sweet, cute, nice, adorable. Something stutters in your chest and you feel your cheeks starting to grow hot. That slow-burn smile of Oscar’s starts on his face, and you watch dimples form on his cheeks.

The moment is quickly ruined by a particularly nasally Italian accent that you vaguely recognise, “You know,” it says, clearly talking to you, “You should make sure to watch your tone. You never know who could be listening.”

Mood thoroughly dampened, you turn to face the interruption. It turns out to be one of the numerous men on the grid who won’t shut up about you, sharing unsolicited opinions left and right. He has his arms crossed against his chest and a smug expression on his face, as if he’s just caught you doing something terrible— instead of simply complaining about the subpar treatment you’re afforded.

He’s not worth your time whatsoever but God you’re angry. Maybe it’s just been too much shit on top of shit today but you cannot deal reasonably with this man right now— and you are not afforded the luxury of not acting reasonably toward someone like this, no matter how much of a dickhead they are. You open your mouth. Close it. Open it again. Close it and bite down on your bottom lip so nothing accidentally slips out. You’re trying to fish a semi-civil sentence out of a sea of fuck you fuck you fuck you on repeat and it’s not working.

“Are you threatening her?” Oscar asks, a dangerous lilt to his tone, and somewhere in the pulse of anger, you think this is the happiest you’ve ever been to hear his voice, “Because, I am pretty sure your team principal would not be pleased to hear that you’re going around threatening one of Mercedes’ drivers.”

He scoffs, trying to play it off, but you think you register a little bit of worry somewhere in there— Oscar can be threatening when he wants to be and McLaren are not exactly nobodies in this sport right now, “Please, I am not threatening her. I am just telling her that she needs to watch her mouth.”

“Right,” Oscar nods, mouth pinching, “Sure. Well, it would be our word against yours and I’m fairly sure your team principal would believe two drivers over you right now. Especially with that history, you’ve got, dude.”

A little thrill goes up your spine as his face goes white as a sheet. Oscar’s talking about the nice little list of comments he’s made that you’ve reported to your team and an FIA representative— which you’ve taken to doing every time anyone starts up a pattern of saying things about you or to you. They’re to cover your ass honestly, so you can’t be accused of making things up if push comes to shove. You’re sure they’ve made their way back to him and his boss; you’re glad they’ve made an impact (but perhaps not enough to stop him outright).

He sniffs, a nervous edge to his words, “I am not threatening her.”

“Okay. Apologise.”

“Excuse me?”

Oscar raises an eyebrow, “If you’re not threatening her, apologise.”

You bite the inside of your lip and grip the neck of your near-empty beer bottle tighter. Alright, Oscar can be scary. Noted. Very much noted.

“I—” He quickly thinks better of protesting and looks at you, lips pursed in a thin angry line, “I apologise.”

He looks at Oscar, Oscar looks at you. You shrug and nod. Good enough. You don’t need him to grovel, you think he’s been sufficiently humiliated already. Although, before he scampers off into the crowd at Oscar’s approval, you manage a dry, “You think I need to watch my tone now?”

He scowls, but says, “No,” anyway.

Then he stalks off into the throng of people.

You relax more the further that he gets away from the two of you. The tension dissipates into something warm and charged with a different kind of electricity entirely. You ignore the unease that tries to take root in your stomach and instead focus on Oscar at your side.

“That was—” you scrub a hand over your face, starting your sentence again, “Hm.”

Oscar sigh-laughs again, “Yeah, what an asshole.”

“Thank you,” you say meaning it wholeheartedly, “No one’s done something like that for me before.”

Oscar looks down at you, frowning, he shakes his head, “It’s nothing.”

“It’s not nothing,” you answer, feeling bold as you put a hand on his bicep in an attempt to express how grateful you feel for him, for what he’d done for you, “It’s really not, Osc.”

He’s quiet, staring at you with big brown sparkling eyes for a long long moment. A long moment in which you fantasise about reaching upward and pulling his face down to yours, feeling his lips against your own. They’d be soft, you think— his hair would be too. You don’t think about it and you resolutely ignore the tug low in your gut.

“You deserve it,” he says eventually, loud enough that you can hear it, but not anyone else, “You are killing it, by the way.”

You breathe a laugh, “Yeah, I’d better be.”

You squeeze gently at his bicep, feeling the sinewed muscle underneath his dress shirt. Then you let your hand drop, trailing absently down his arm as you do so. Your fingers brush his hand, and he catches yours before it's out of reach at your side. Purposefully, he threads your fingers with his, squeezing firmly and brushing his thumb tenderly over your knuckle. You feel a little lightheaded when he lets go.

You sigh, masking the out-of-breath quality of your voice, “I need another drink.”

“Yeah,” Oscar breathes, “Me too, I reckon.”

🏎️ title taken from this song :)

[cartoonistcoop]

ShortBox Comics Member Interview: Sloane Hong

Throughout the month of October, the Cartoonist Cooperative will be sharing interviews with members of the Co-op who have a new comic available at the ShortBox Comics Fair 2024! 

NOTE: The Cartoonist Cooperative is not affiliated, associated, authorized, endorsed by, or in any way formally connected with ShortBox.  

Today’s spotlight is Sloane Hong ( @plaest2k ) and their new comic for ShortBox, Expiry Date.

We’d love it if you could introduce yourself and tell us about your background in comics.

Sloane Hong: Kia ora, my name is Sloane Hong (she/her), I’m a Korean-tauiwi illustrator, comic artist and tattooer based in Aotearoa, New Zealand. I only started making comics professionally about five years ago but they’ve always been a significant part of my life for as long as I can remember.

Tell us more about your new comic?

SH: Expiry Date is an erotic, body horror, sci-fi short story about coming home from a long day at your shitty, minimum-wage job, crashing on your couch and fantasizing about how fucking good it would feel to just die.

I mean, it’s also about transness, labour rights, our relationship with our bodies and death under capitalism, etc but it’s mostly about shitty jobs.

My friend described it as “what if David Cronenberg was a transsexual dyke who grew up reading ero-guro”.

What are some early experiences as a cartoonist that shaped you or your process?

SH: My brother’s also an artist, probably better than I could ever be, and I basically owe any good taste I might have to him. Growing up, I always got home from school first so I’d sneak into his room to admire his drawings and read his comics. He had most of the usual stuff you’d find on any Korean kid’s shelf in the 90’s: Akira Toriyama, Masamune Shirow, Yoshito Usui, etc, and a couple of Korean manhwa that are all now damn-near impossible to find. As he got older, he started getting into American comics and brought home stuff like R. Crumb, Daniel Clowes, Fletcher Hanks, etc from the library.

But it’s not just that I had someone to introduce me to all this stuff, it’s the fact I’m six years younger than him and he was already reading this stuff earlier than most. So I think I started looking at all those misanthropic underground comics by horny white men when I was, like, what… about 10 years old?

Besides my brother, the trauma of working shitty jobs for years on end, The Terrible Boredom of Paradise, and this weird and fucked up miracle we call life are probably the wellsprings of both my inspiration and ceaseless burnout. 

Tell us about your creative process; how did you develop this comic and what are the steps you took to bring it to the final stage?

SH: I did something really stupid for the 2023 ShortBox Comics Fair. I have ADHD and one of the many ways it manifests is that I have a debilitating habit of overthinking my stories. “Are the themes too obvious? Is it too heavy handed? Are the motivations for this character clear enough? Is this the right way to phrase this? Is this the right word? Is this the right letter? Is this the right punctuation?” etc, etc.

On paper, it probably sounds like something every writer goes through but when I say debilitating, I mean interferes-with-my-ability-to-live-a-normal-life-kind of debilitating. It’s kind of impossible to articulate how bad it was but it got to a point where I was so sick of myself and all the stories I never finished that I said fuck it–maybe if I just jump into a comic with nothing but a stupid premise, no planning and an impending deadline, I won’t have time to think about all these inconsequential details. So I sat down and forced myself to write, pencil and ink a comic, page-by-page.

It was essentially an exercise in automatism: I was still thinking about draftsmanship, composition, flow and everything but I kinda just let the story tell itself by writing/ drawing whatever felt like a natural progression for the narrative.

That was how I ended up with Marrow, which was kinda funny because the whole point was to make a goofy, low-stakes comic about nothing to circumvent the pressure of having to write anything good. Instead I’d inadvertently made something that was layered and deeply intimate and won the sci-fi category in the 2024 Minicomic Awards. But, more importantly, the whole process helped bring everything together. It reminded me of something I used to tell young artists: developing a style isn’t something you really set out to do, it’s something that just happens. You don’t practice drawing to get better at drawing; you do it to better channel your voice. It’s only when you can stop thinking about how to move your hand that your heart can take the lead.

I’d forgotten my own advice. I was so concerned about the technical details of how to write a story that I was basically assembling components rather than writing anything at all. Marrow helped me realize I’d already internalized everything I needed to write long ago. I just needed to stop thinking.

Expiry Date was a continuation of that process and made in basically the same way. There was just significantly less stress involved now that I knew I could trust myself.

Mostly.

Read the rest of the interview HERE! And dont forget to check out the Shortbox Comics Fair to support these lovely creators!!

[swiftyangx12]

🟦🤍A Misunderstanding🩵🟥

[Pairing]: TFA Optimus Prime x Cybertronian!Autobot![Reader]

[Synopsis]: [D/N] can’t catch a break from being misidentified for a Decepticon. At least they have someone who understands their struggles as a commander.

[Inspiration]: A request I sent out some time ago and @signedaiko wrote the HCs out. (HCs with the Special Ops![S/O])

[D/N] = Designation (Meaning your name)

[Gender Neutral Reader]

[(A/N)]: Based on Aiko’s HCs, I’m only writing Optimus in this fic because I’m kind of biased. Also, I need to practice writing characters from the TF franchise and TFA O.P. seems like he’s an easy start. Anyways, I hope you enjoy the story.

[WARNING]: Possible misuse of Cybertronian Vocabulary and Terminology (I’m still new to the fandom)

[Back when [D/N] was first promoted to their position as Commander of the Information Operations, they were issued to get a paint job with much darker colors since most missions require stealth. The team [D/N] leads and work with are good bots, but the only trouble the whole unit faces sometimes are the misunderstandings from a first glance.]

Random Cybertronian: EHH! DECEPTICON!!!

[D/N]: No, no, no! I’m not a Dece-!

Random Cybertronian: *Whacks them with an alloy pole*

[D/N]: OW!

🟦🟥🤍🩵💛🟦🟥🤍🩵💛🟦🟥🤍🩵💛🟦🟥🤍🩵💛🟦🟥🤍🩵💛🟦🟥🤍🩵💛🟦🟥🤍🩵💛🟦🟥🤍🩵💛🟦🟥🤍🩵💛🟦🟥

[It didn’t help when they visit Earth to see their Conjunx Endura. People, especially Detroit citizens, also mistook them for one.]

Random citizen: Call the Autobots! Decepticon on sight!

[D/N]: Wait a klik! I’m not with the bad guys.

[After clearing up the commotion]

Random citizen: I’m so sorry! I thought you were one of those Decepticons.

[D/N]: It’s alright. At least you have good optics if spotting one, but please be sure if you see their Insignia next time.

🟦🟥🤍🩵💛🟦🟥🤍🩵💛🟦🟥🤍🩵💛🟦🟥🤍🩵💛🟦🟥🤍🩵💛🟦🟥🤍🩵💛🟦🟥🤍🩵💛🟦🟥🤍🩵💛🟦🟥🤍🩵💛🟦🟥

[It also didn’t help that even the Decepticons on Earth were bewildered to discover that [D/N] is an Autobot.]

Starscream: When did one of our Decepticons switch sides?!

[D/N]: *Enraged* 💢 I AM NOT A DECEPTICON IN THE FIRST PLACE, YOU FRAGGING IDIOTS!!!

The Decepticons: Uh oh.

[D/N]: *Unsheathes their razor neon blades and sprints towards the enemies* AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!

🟦🟥🤍🩵💛🟦🟥🤍🩵💛🟦🟥🤍🩵💛🟦🟥🤍🩵💛🟦🟥🤍🩵💛🟦🟥🤍🩵💛🟦🟥🤍🩵💛🟦🟥🤍🩵💛🟦🟥🤍🩵💛🟦🟥

[Yeah, from that last battle, [D/N] was on rage mode where they kicked the Decepticons’ afts to the extremes. On their own. Probably put them out of commission for a while. They definitely need private time with their Sparkmate.]

[The Plant: The Autobots’ Secret Base]

[D/N]: Oppy, sweetspark~ *Back-hugs Optimus* My wonderful and lovely conjunx~

Optimus Prime: *Holds their bitarlueus’ carefully and looks back* What is it, [D/N]? You usually call me those names if something is bothering you.

[D/N]: There is. When I retire from the position as commander of my unit, I’m getting a new paint job.

Optimus Prime: Oh, that doesn’t sound bad. Why the sudden thought?

[D/N]: *Vents out from their intake (Sighs)* Almost every bot and person I encounter, they mistake me for a Decepticon. It’s what I get for earning a job where my team and I are required to wear coatings for stealth operations. The tones are too close to the actual faction’s.

Optimus Prime: Well, you also act scary when on duty.

[D/N]: *Pouts* That doesn’t help either.

Optimus Prime: *Chuckles a little* Don’t worry, [D/N]. We know you’re good and just doing your job as a commander. You proved to be a great bot every cycle.

[D/N]: Yeah…But I still remember when Sari and Bee freaked out after seeing me.

Optimus Prime: They didn’t know you’re on our side at that time. Now, they love you for being your true self.

[D/N]: Yeah…Y’know, when I do retire, you wanna help choose which color scheme suits me?

Optimus Prime: Only if you’re comfortable with the choices.

[D/N]: *Smiles at him* You’re so thoughtful, Oppy. I love you.

Optimus Prime: Love you too, [D/N].

🟦🟥🤍🩵💛🟦🟥🤍🩵💛🟦🟥🤍🩵💛🟦🟥🤍🩵💛🟦🟥🤍🩵💛🟦🟥🤍🩵💛🟦🟥🤍🩵💛🟦🟥🤍🩵💛🟦🟥🤍🩵💛🟦🟥

[A Few Deca-Cycles Later]

[At Night]

[S/N] = Sparkling’s Name

[S/N]: *Runs up to Optimus on their little pedes* Sire! Sire! Was this Carrier? *Holds up a data-pad with an old image of [D/N] back when they were a commander*

Optimus Prime: “Oh scrap.” Where did you find this? You know your carrier isn’t comfortable talking about their old job yet.

[D/N]: Don’t worry, Oppy. I let them see the ‘pad.

Optimus Prime: [D/N]. I didn’t expect you to tell so soon.

[D/N]: *Shrugs* [S/N] would learn sooner than later. They didn’t believe the image was me and needed your confirmation.

Optimus Prime: Well… *Picks up [S/N] and adjusts his hold* To tell you the truth, that is your carrier.

[S/N]: Really?! They look too scary to be my creator.

[D/N]: *Made an expression on their faceplate that screams, “Even my kid thinks I looked scary.”* (￣^￣)

Optimus Prime: That’s because back then, Carrier needed to look the part as a leader for their special unit. They have to wear darker coats of paint as their uniform.

[S/N]: Why? No bright colors allowed?

[D/N]: No bright colors, because I had missions where you need to be sneaky. Hiding in the dark and go for the surprise attack! *Starts tickling their Sparkling*

[S/N]: *Laughs from the “attack”* S-Stop! Stop! Can’t vent!

[D/N]: *Stops tickling* Alright, alright. Now, you better get ready for stasis mode since the next cycle is a big one.

[S/N]: *Gasps* I get to visit uncle Bee and uncle Bulk!

[D/N]: That’s right. *Picks them up from Optimus and settles them down* Wash up and maybe we’ll read you a story before berth.

[S/N]: *Nods and hurries off to freshen up*

Optimus Prime: *Hugs [D/N] from behind* You know, I fear next time you need to be called in to resume your duties.

[D/N]: *Leaning in the hug* Don’t worry, Oppy. I’m sure my successor is doing fine as commander and I only come in as a consultant for my former team.

Optimus Prime: If you say so. Then more time between us and see how it plays out.

[D/N]: After reading a story to [S/N], then maybe we’ll see what happens next.

Optimus Prime: *Vents out* Love you, [D/N].

[D/N]: Love you too, Oppy.

❤️[Reblogs help creators and creates more content]💙

[(A/N)]: Please be sure to visit @signedaiko’s blog and check out their work. Their writing is really entertaining and fun to read.

[anxresi]

They're absolutely right...

...It's the writers that deserve the lion's share of the backlash, for poor, innocent, boring-as-hell Zoe is merely a tool of the oppressor, aka Mr Astruc. What's being oppressed, you may well ask? Well, interesting storylines, proper continuity, two-dimensional personalities... I could go on. Everything that makes a show compulsive and rewarding viewing that Miraculous Ladybug conspicuously and utterly lacks in every department due to his increasingly destructive machinations, basically.

This pink-streaked plot device masquerading as a serious character can (along with another equally pointless individual called 'Soquerline' who was so unmemorable I almost forgot she was ever a thing) exists for one reason and one reason only: to diminish Chloe's relevance and role in the show to the sum of precisely nothing. Well after S5, job done I guess guys. Well done. Well done indeed. (Although apparently not... they're bringing Miss Bourgeois back for more torture in the London 'special'. Guess Tommy Boy just can't keep away from his favorite punching bag, can he?)

The irony is though, having such a super-sweet but dull-as-ditchwater Mary Sue to replace a well-established and multi-layered person such as Chloe actually sends out a seriously awful message. Why? Because if I was a bad kid and saw S1-3 Chloe, I'd think 'what a fascinating redemption arc, I can inspired by that and do better.' But after seeing S4-5 Chloe and what an arguable downgrade as a replacement the incredibly tedious Zoe is, I'd be more like 'well, obviously there's no point in trying to be good, because you'll probably turn into a psychopath overnight with no explanation in the middle of your genuine efforts to improve. And if what the show is presenting to me as the ideal for a teenage girl to be is the waste-of-blank-space that Zoe clearly is... then a life of deliquency sounds more tempting with every passing minute! Now, where did I put my spray can?'

The most shameless aspect to this whole argument though, is by those trying to paint the hapless Zoe as some kind of lesbian icon. Pardon? She got a plot-mandated crush on Marinette in one episode and somehow that makes her insipid and needless presence an asset for the gay community? Somehow a few people have got it into their heads if you 'dare' to make someone non-straight in cartoons these days you deserve a big pat on the back for that 'risk' alone. WRONG. They should also be fleshed-out, complex, necessary characters whose sexuality isn't just define them or deflect from deserved criticism as to what the hell they are doing there if they turn up in the middle of proceedings with no prior explanation. See: The Owl House for how it's done.

And that's all Zoe being gay is... an irrelevant trait Mr Astruc can point to cynically and say ' you're a bigot for disliking her whatever your reasons are, so I'm not listening to you' instead of engaging with the actual argument which is SHE IS NOT AND WAS NEVER NEEDED IN THE SHOW. Everything you required to make Chloe the brilliant character she could've been was RIGHT THERE in the script but you CHOSE to rub it all out and scrawl some hastily scribbled doodle with no personality other than being 'very nice' in her place. A tragedy. The worst case of self-vandalism I've ever seen. No wonder Jeremy Zag wants to start from scratch with his rebooted movies. More power to him, IMHO.

Needless to say, nearly all the above in the quoted post about her father loving her (we haven't met him yet, it's DEFINITELY not Andre Bourgeois, his name ends in 'Lee' for a start) her supposed growth (the only 'growth' she's had is when she turned into that giant golden Chloe after being akumatized) her alleged pansexuality (all in the desperate mind of the OP) her 'abusive' family (I think you'll find Chloe had it FAR WORSE over the course of the show in that regard, so why not idolise her?) is complete bunkum. and to be frank I couldn't compose a much delusional post if I tried. Sometimes I wonder: what planet are some people on to reach such implausible conclusions? I don't understand it, I'll never understand it and quite frankly I feel quite sorry for the arbiters of such risibly deluded takes.

Last but not least though, we have...

Now this I ALSO agree with 1000%. And I know just the place to 'flush' her... ;)

[ludwigplayingthetrombone]

After seeing your beautiful new piece with the cute vignettes of team 7+team kakashi, i was wondering — how do you feel about Naruto (the boy)?

o thankyou! ;u; my feelings on narts the boy are so torn tbh so im gonna throw my ramblings under a cut bc idk if i can articulate this correctly

og naruto narts? love him. adore him. i miss that dumb little punk kid i loved him challenging the system and wanting to change it and help people. i /wanted/ him to inspire people like kakashi and gai's gen to do the same and realize how fucked up their childhoods were being weapons of the state at like 6 and 7

shippuden narts? He just rubs me the wrong way. started out good with gaara rescue arc, but then all his pizzaz left and let his obsession of sasuke be the only priority. (This isnt his fault, but kishi writing it so ONLY naruto could kill or defeat most of the enemies with his new op move was so boring to me. none of the secondary cast got to do shit) He also didnt take one second to question if his endgoal is still the same since he turned out to be exactly the opposite of "anyone can be hokage" bc he turns out to have the specialist blood of all and got revealed as a nepo baby and chosen one. He licherally became complicit and changed next to nothing as hokage in the end. the status quo remained the fucking same. Naruto rejecting the hokage position bc he recognizes neji was right is so much more interesting to me

Naruto is at his best when sasuke isnt involved imho. I adore his interactions with everyone else bc he truly loves his friends and family, but him and sakura were so delusional over sasuke but didnt actually Know him and his trauma they just loved the Idea of him. the way they talk about it, they act like sasuke was kidnapped and didnt CHOOSE to leave and even tried to kill them multiple times. shikamaru stronger than me, it'd slap the shit out of both of them

I wish they'd head on addressed the whole "sasuke's whole family was slaughtered in front of him" together and not "you have to come back so we can be a team and things can be normal again like nothing ever happened and fight me!" naruto would be the first one to offer to pull up on itachi with him lets be real lmaoo. I wanted him to offer sasuke support to BOTH tackle the injustices of the leaf. it's kinda like hiruzens passiveness with orochimaru and danzo. never holding certain loved ones accountable he was the same way with obito and even hiruzen himself. (is he even aware of hiruzen's part in the uchiha massacre or obito killing his parents?? then pardoning orochimaru?? HELLO???)

There were moments where i did see our boy shine thru, but then the god powers bullshit hit. in short, bring back my punk little man. his pure intentions were ruined by bad writing

my naruto endgame for him is not stuck at a deskjob he hates with a nuclear family he neglects and more he chooses to give up the hokage job to someone who actually can enact change and who isnt from a prestigious family. travels around helping people hands on and finally gets the peaceful life with found family he never had. advocating better for the next gen.

part one naruto, my baby boy

[tiesthatbind-tf]

You said Sentinel was Optimus’s mentor in your AU? What was that partnership like before Optimus left? How did Sentinel treat him, I mean?

Oh, we're going to have to pull up a chair for this hot dumpster fire.

You get some homework reading beforehand.

Optimus Prime (Omar Parvez) and his parents (Mirza and Ariya) are Kurdish political refugees from Iran who were granted asylum in the UK, and Optimus first crossed paths with Sentinel Prime (Sedgewick Princeton), when Sentinel was a young cop. Mirza was a college professor, Ariya was a journalist, needless to say they had people who wanted them silenced, and at one point of time, Sentinel (back then 27) responded to a home invasion at their apartment and saved Mirza's life. OP and Sentinel spoke back then when Sentinel was attempting to calm him down (he made the emergency call as a terrified seven-year-old) and it was this moment that inspired OP as a child to look into law enforcement as a career option when he grew up.

OP put in the work, made the cut to the military/law class despite hailing from parents in the art/education class, and caught the eye of Sentinel, who had become London Police Commissioner. Sentinel, both impressed by OP's work ethic and getting a bit of an ego boost that OP was inspired by him, decided to take OP under his wing when OP graduated, and began work in the Hackney borough.

At this point, Sentinel and OP's relationship was very good. OP was dutiful, excelled in his tasks and showed a lot of initiative, and he treated OP like a son, even to the point of trying to set OP up on blind dates! But OP would see some subtle warning signs, where Sentinel would compliment him in a way that disparaged his background (think the "you're a credit to your people"/"would you believe the child of mere book keepers could become a warrior" type 'compliments'), and played him up as a model minority to an uncomfortable degree.

The real rift started when OP was made Chief Superintendent of the Dead End as a trial by fire (its two previous Chief Superintendents had quit on the job), where he would oversee enforcement there without Sentinel's input and if it worked out, he would be promoted to deputy commissioner in Scotland Yard. OP strayed away from Sentinel's standard policing protocol for a more holistic/facilitative form of policing that focused more on public welfare than making arrest quotas and punitive action.

OP sees severe issues with the system, Sentinel thinks it's working as intended to 'keep order'; OP begins to see cracks in the Sentinel's pedestal and the callousness behind Sentinel's facade of propriety, Sentinel begins to see OP as not as a student, but as a rival, especially when OP's methods work. Both end up in disagreements and rows so bad that Sentinel would hamstring OP's station funding and send his men down there to police OP, because Sentinel still has authority over OP (thought not enough to strip OP of his position in the Dead End because NOTHING OP is doing is technically wrong, it's simply getting in the way of locking up all these 'undesirables' and investments from gentrifying the place).

And when OP gets in the bad graces of Proteus and several Senate members for being a loudmouthed upstart, Sentinel takes the opportunity to throw OP under the bus, fire him and have him blacklisted from future military/law enforcement positions.

That said, whatever schadenfreude Sentinel felt seeing OP reduced to a dockworker (see where disobeying me gets you), was immediately decked in the face by the realisation that OP is no fool; OP had made connections with Hotspot, Ratchet, and local activists to ensure through a network of initiatives and legalities that Dead End remains cared for and in the hands of its residents, regardless of its superintendent.

Sentinel has never forgotten this and has harbored a deep disdain for OP ever since, a disdain which turns into hate when he finds our years later than OP is one of the two rebel leaders of the workers' revolution clashing heads with his forces.

The point of absolutely no return is when Sentinel has OP's father, his only living parent at that point, arrested and publicly executed for sedition via dissemination of banned literature (there is a bit of a personal slant to this; a part of Sentinel is always angry that OP would never see him as a father figure and despite having the strength and discipline of a warrior, remains that soft-hearted, kindly book keeper at heart) in an attempt to crush OP's morale and draw OP and Megatron out into the open (also, it's an interesting narrative bookend, given that Sentinel had saved Mirza on the job years ago; he sees himself in a position to hold both life and death in his hands) The hatred is mutual after this point, and OP prefers to avoid any discussion of Sentinel to this day.

[aevyk-ing]

Watching the making of Wish

-Patting their backs for reusing animation as an homage. Like yeah, it’s nice, there’s work behind that, but it’s the way they say it, like: “We’ve worked hard! Trust us!” We know animation is hard and the problem with Wish was never the animation.

-I didn’t know Sabino was based on Roger from The Aristocats. I love Roger, he’s delightful. Poor Sabino just looks bland in comparison.

-They say Asha has her good and bad traits (which isn’t true) and is so brave to go against what she has believed her whole life. I've seen that done way better and with actually compelling characters.

-“She has to balance being a good friend and family member to speaking the truth and I think we can all relate to that” Well… nope. All those things can be different things. And both your friends and family should help you or at least listen to you.

-Saying that the “I want” song explains how the character is, like… duh.

-Well, yes, Ariana DeBose did great with what she was given.

-So Asha has freckles because some people of North Africa and Southern Spain have freckles… what? Any skin color can have freckles. And I can’t talk about North African people but Andalusian aren’t quite freckled (yes, that’s the name of Southern Spain). Also, I never saw her as mixed. She totally follows more of her mother’s culture. That’s why I don’t like her calling her father’s father saba. Her mother’s father would be her saba and her father’s father her abuelo.

-I love Bill Schwab’s designs, he’s a great artist. But he was only told Asha’s age, race and height. Which yeah, it’s important, but for designing a character you should think about their personality too, because that also translates into their features, hairstyle, clothes and mannerisms. We still don’t know anything about Asha. Is she shy? Likes comfy clothes? No, wait, she’s adorkable.

-They talk about Disney Princess gowns using elements from the current period where they were made (something quite interesting) but they just put the Modern twist in Asha’s hairstyle. Like, what were you afraid of?

-Maybe I’m reading too much into this, but Schwab’s just did his job with a model sheet and that was the ONLY reference they had for animating Asha for a while. Then one of them used his daughter as inspiration and then Ariana came with lots of ideas. They didn’t know how Asha moved for the longest time! Their lead character!

-They say Asha is pure energy, which is… somehow correct? Like she’s just awkward and making those weird moves and trying to be cute and funny. The movie is done and nobody knows yet who the heck is Asha as a character.

-Apparently, Asha has details of pumpkin seeds all over her clothes and she’s wearing periwinkle because of the idea of making her THE Fairy Godmother. I still think she looks better in orange.

-Seeing the voice acting outtakes was good. But now I wish the Bland Dwarfs looked more like the actors. All of them have interesting features that could have been implemented in the designs instead of making them clones of the Encanto family and the mother from Strange World.

-The first deleted scene is after Sabino retrieves his wish and he sings a song. I would have put it in the end as a farewell song with everyone joining it.

-"The Wish equation" is to have a true wish, be responsible of it and… finding support? Fight for it? Exclude fear? Accept change? What are we even talking about? A dream career?

-They say the FG gave Cinderella the dress but couldn’t make the Prince fall in love with her, so she was supporting her! Like… Cinderella just wanted to go to the ball. BAM, there you go, a new dress, WISH GRANTED. Cinderella’s wish wasn’t to make the Prince fall in love with her, she didn’t even know him yet!

-“Music happens when you’re too overwhelmed with emotion.” This clip plays AFTER a snippet of "Welcome to Rosas". I guess Asha was too overwhelmed with being late. That shouldn’t have been a song, she should have told us about Rosas in the book opening.

-They wanted it to be like a fairytale and then hired a pop composer. Like the director says she grew up with the Disney Renaissance Era. Which used Broadway music!

-They talked about this earlier but “This wish” was the song that helped them write the movie, just like "Let it go" made them rewrite Frozen. So you can tell they didn’t have much to work on, maybe an idea: “Hey, just do a fairytale about wishes for our anniversary.”

-The songwriter was so overwhelmed with the commission she had to reach a friend to help her.  Maybe because nobody actually knew what the movie was about? But hey, she’s the youngest to ever write a Disney OST.

-You know? The more I hear “This wish” the more I’m sure it’s the best song of the entire soundtrack.

-Hey, I know that guy in the archive! I’ve seen this clip before!

-I’m just hearing they didn’t know what the heck to do and dived into the archive for inspiration. I like the idea that they studied the greatest artists for some scenes, but sadly, all that is lost in the movie. They scenes are too short to appreciate the animation, but A+ for effort.

-They thought doing a fairytale illustration style was difficult to do… in 3D. Just don’t do it in 3D! Also, I don’t think it’s that difficult, Blue Eyed Samurai did something great.

-The composition is interesting and the backgrounds too, but the characters look quite bad.

-The illustration style led to the backgrounds (and everything) being in focus, which I think it also makes the movie look weird. Look at any old painting: the background is less detailed than the main focus (less brush strokes). They could have gone that direction. The backgrounds of Wish are too detailed a lot of the times and always in focus, so it’s distracting.

-BTW, most of this is: “We did this like in this movie, that like in that movie…” but, what’s original? What makes Wish its own movie?

-They talk about lines like lineart in animation, which we’ve seen it masterfully in Spiderman. But here is so subdued it doesn’t add anything.

-“Wouldn’t it be great to have a warmer climate than the one we’re used in fairytales?” Yeah, because there’s snow in Encanto and Hercules. Also, nothing tells us that’s a warmer climate. Google “Andalusia”, please. There’s flowers in bright colors everywhere, white houses, narrow streets and people, just a lot of loud and happy people. That’s Southern Spain for you all.

-At least with Frozen we CAN TELL it’s Norway. Here, there’s nothing that says SPAIN. Give us people eating serrano ham or tortillas, maybe put a bull around there, have them drink wine from botijos and play guitars!

-Again with the “this was based on this”. Rosas was inspired by The Sleeping Beauty: Germany and France. That’s a whole different architectural design! There’s no verticality as main focus in Mozarab architecture, is all about curves.

-“So it’s your fault.” Yeah, that doesn’t sound fun. I have the feeling you’re not telling a lot of things.

-You know, another Fantasia would have been great. Maybe one with all the Disney characters.

-This is now about the story of Disney, so yeah, padding. Also, way to use “At all costs” in the background. We don’t want to remember what you’ve done in the past, we just want you to tell a good story again.

-This should have been the beginning, the “wish upon a star” that put Wish in motion.

-It was going to be about the origin of the wishing star?

-“Return of Disney villain” Hahahahahahah…

-They didn’t know how bad Magnífico could be and made him do mean stuff like smashing Sabino’s guitar (they called it a guitar here).

-Also, apparently he was going to be shirtless in a scene. Like, you know, a Disney villain.

-We don’t watch him BECOME a villain, we watch a magic book CONTROL him!

-“With "This is the thanks I get" I was like, oh, yeah, we have a narcissist.”, so they didn’t know anything about Magnífico until the song was written! That’s why he doesn’t act like a narcissist much until that song and why the mirror ending felt rushed.

-“When Chris Pine came in I was like: that’s it, that’s the character.” Because they didn’t even had designed it? Like, that’s literally him!

-He did give it all to that song.

-Magnífico was an alchemist?

-“We didn’t want people to know he was evil right away.” Every poster and article: “Disney’s new villain, everybody!”.

-“Makes him more dangerous the quieter he is.” Magnífico in the end battle: eyes fully open, screaming, laughing.

-Oh, Star, here we go. He was going to be pure energy as well… just like Asha! Yeah, we were robbed. BTW, he’s not like Genie or Maui. Maui and Genie aren’t even the same!

-He could have been a fantastic creature as well. And all those designs look crazily fun. But also that’s the kind of exploration you do at the beginning of the production, not in the middle. Unless someone meddles…

-Someone went out to design different sparkles for Star but I could only see it being adorkable. Focused on the face so the sparkles weren’t even noticeable.

-“…they put their personality on it (Star)” Yeah, because none of these characters had any personality… nor have it now that the movie is done.

-People being made of stardust is one of the most beautiful scientific facts. “You are a star” is the worst song in the movie. No wonder it took so long to write.

-Nope, Doc was a leader. Dalia is just there… talking. Of course she’s a way to get the medal of  “we put a disabled character” but at least she has more personality than Asha.

-BTW, just saw the Story Artist wearing a pin with a Pride flag in the shape of a Mickey.

-“She’s just a young woman, going with her life.” “And succeeding.” Yeah, representation is good, but it’s better if you’re not talking about how good you are for doing it.

-Also, we have mixed-race representation, older people with dreams representation, etc. but hey, that girl has a crutch, we’re cool.

-“Animals in Disney have to be smarter than people.” Why? Just why? And also, Valentino is no way smarter than any of the other characters. So why say that?

-“(Alan Tudyk) He pretty much made the whole character.” Yeah, because it looks like nobody had any idea of how these characters were.

-“Inspiration can came from anywhere.” You just COPY-PASTED the ideas of others.

-“Everybody has seen me crying in the studio.” For a good or bad reason?

-Ending with a Walt quote proclaiming they always do their best job… huh…

-“It served the story better to have Amaya as a good person.” Yeah, nope. It made no sense for her to switch sides so easily.

-Sabino dying would have been such a strong way to start the story. Him stealing Asha’s diary… yep, not good.

-Reinforcing my theory that Disney wanted to move away from shapeshifters after the Nimona fiasco.

-Looks like they gave the chaotic energy Star was going to have to Valentino.

-Making any other animal talking surely was a mistake. What’s with the sassiness?

-Dalia wasn’t called like that?! BTW, the writers were so proud of her clutch not being mentioned but, in the deleted scene, it’s the first thing they do. Twice.

-“When you’re underestimated, they don’t see your power coming until it changes the world.” Whoa, just whoa. Disney writers, everybody.

-LOL, the deleted scene with the animals is so bad. But Magnífico was going to transform into a Beast, so… kinda interesting?

Here's the link, BTW.

And congratulations if you read this all. If you're interested, here are my own Wish rewrites: 1, 2.

[alangdorf]

I got married this summer!! And I spent the year leading up to it designing & patterning & making my dresses! So here they are; unfortunately my photo selection is pretty limited cause our photographer got almost no fullbody pictures of me alone from the front, but w/e

My wedding dress/outfit/what have you consisted of an Edwardian-ish blouse and a skirt which I drafted off of an actual Victorian walking skirt pattern except since I didn’t wanna obtain/wear a corset & bustle I took out the hip shaping so it just turned out to be a partial circle skirt that’s a little longer and fuller in back. Oh, and the front panel was actually two overlapping panels which could be folded back and attached to the inside of the skirt. I wore it closed at the actual marriage part which I didn’t get good pics of, and open at the ring ceremony, which is where all the above pics were taken. The pants were resale, but I did make my veil and bouquet!

The second dress was very inspired by this set of classic lolita OP’s (particularly the one in the first two pics) which I first saw back in 2021 and I’d been itching to make something similar ever since, so I picked up the fabric for it when it was on sale back at my old job and then pencilled it in as my reception dress so I would actually get around to making it. (Although fun fact both of these outfits STILL need more sewing done before they’re completely ready for regular wear lol. Someday) I got the cameo for the brooch off Etsy (it has a butterfly on it) and my grandma bought me the shoes for Christmas last year, though I added the bows to them (they’re removable and I also made a pink set) and also made the earrings and hair bow.

Anyway we recently got done moving and stuff so hopefully I will be able to do more art soon! (Also they/them preferred as usual 💜)

[ask-uts-earthspark-au]

what would the terran's reactions be to like.... megatronus prime/the fallen or liege maximo?? or any of the 13 originals tbh, and that in alot of continuities op is kind of implied (if not straight up said) to be the thirteenth?

Yknow, actually this gives me a great opportunity to somewhat explain how my AU has the Primes.

I may write a fic off of this, actually.

Anyway: here we go.

Prima

All are somewhat enamored with the whole concept of them basically being their god. Finds their rumored appearance quite cool, and finds it cool that the Matrix is in their sword.

The Fallen/Megatronus Prime

Not quite so fond. Weird, creepy, none of them like him. Thrash genuinely could not roll his optics any harder at his ‘tragic backstory’ that people wrote to make him sympathetic.

Alpha Trion

Kinda interesting. Kept track of history, ran an archive, held onto the matrix between Primes after the others were all dead, originally thought to be basically immortal with how long he lived? Even though he wasn’t actually a true prime, apparently. And did eventually die, but body was never actually recovered. Mysterious, and kind of interesting, overall.

Nexus Prime

Cool as balls. There’s not much else to say, they just think he’s cool as hell. Still don’t quite understand the whole combining thing, but it sounds a little cooler now.

Vector Prime

There are so many possibilities, that it simply blew their tiny newspark processors. Probably the coolest so far.

Solus Prime

Tied with Vector. Originally from the original myth, they weren’t too interested. But hearing the bit from Optimus completely separate from myth, they immediately loved Solus. Thrash loves the hammer, Hashtag thinks it’s very girlboss of him to even exist, Twitch loves the whole ‘can make really cool weapons with the hammer’ thing, Jawbreaker thinks the story overall is pretty inspiring, and kinda cute (albeit somewhat tragic) that he died very quickly after his partner, and was the one who caused the ‘partners/conjuxes come to the hall as well’ thing, Nightshade is very enamored with him being trans. Overall, it’s a hard tie with Vector.

Amalgamous Prime

The shifting bit is awesome. They understand the Decepticons a bit better, and understand better why they even exist in the first place. HT also thinks he has mad rizz for having seduced an Autobot like that.

Liege Maximo

The fact that this bitch is meant to be like their version of satan is kinda… they’re honestly perhaps 5% impressed, at most. And the whole ‘point of origin for all decepticons’ is really laughable to them.

“…at least he’s kinda sexy…?” - Jawbreaker

Alchemist Prime

Kinda boring, but also super cool in that chill uncle way. Also fun that he fucked off from the war and ran a bar. Amazing. Quality decision making skills.

“Like Tarantulas, but in a holy way. And a lot more popular/intimidating.” - Nightshade

Onyx Prime

They think he’s kinda cool, being a big beastformer space pope. Nightshade and Jawbreaker especially like him.

Micronus Prime

Twitch thinks he’s kinda cool, being probably as little as her. Really shows that someone as small as her can be great like that.

Quintus Prime

They all have a unique fascination with him, even if pretty boring. Nightshade is especially interested by the fact that he’s the scientist of the bunch.

Thirteen

The original written myth of Thirteen is incredibly bland to them, and Thrash remarked that clearly they didn’t do a good job. However, when brought the idea of them being Amalgamous’s sparkling, a shifter just like him, and agender, they were all far more interested, and found them a little bit cooler. However, with still so little known, they’re not very interesting compared to the others.

Nova Prime

The fact that he’s known for having not been the best person, yet still respectable enough as ‘The Master Kindler’ and having reintroduced Kindling to table now that the wells were dying, really interests them. Also find it cool how Nova is genderfluid.

“Girlboss, gaslight, gatekeep. 👌” - Hashtag

Sentinel Prime

They’re pretty confident that the very fact that Optimus refused to say his name is enough to say he’s clearly not a very good person, and being told of all that he’d done in his time, they all decidedly hated him.

Optimus Prime

Optimus refused to share very much about himself, beyond his own achievements throughout his reign. They think even higher of him than before. Megatron later revealed that a downside is that he is a loner/introvert & a/antisocial, and usually rather cold/not very personable with people outside of his personal circle of ‘loved ones’.

Rodimus Prime

Nothing was said to his current location, but was noted that he is currently ‘in-training’/not fully a ‘Prime’ yet (won’t be until Op steps down/passes), generally quite polite and sweet if shy, quite strongly religious but really quiet about it, Captain to a crew on a neutral ship, remains neutral himself rather than aligned, a peacetime leader compared to Optimus being a ‘wartime leader’, and technically the true Prime of the reign the Terrans were born under, so they’d be Rodimus’s rather than Optimus’s.

Twitch is even more fond of him, and the others a little more impressed/interested into the prospect of doing a little research into him and those comics.

«—-–-—»

This is canon divergent, so things don’t completely align up with canon.

I happen to HC Solus as TransMasc/FtM & had a female lover, Amalgamous as the original Decepticon leader & have had an ex-Autobot lover + two sparklings, Alchemist as being a ‘peacetime leader’/kept the peace until he died (of old age), and Nova as having revived the practice of Kindling and very protective over sparklings + genderfluid.

Thx.

[circus4apsycho8]

decorating. | nya & reader

𝚍𝚊𝚢 𝟸/𝟽 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚌𝚒𝚛𝚌𝚞𝚜' 𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚓𝚊𝚐𝚘 𝚑𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚏𝚎𝚜𝚝 (𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚗𝚏𝚘 + 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝).

𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐: 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚑𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚗-𝚝𝚢𝚙𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚕 𝚐𝚘𝚛𝚎, 𝚊 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚐 (𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚊 𝚑𝚞𝚖𝚊𝚗), 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚜

“I can’t believe that it’s almost time for Halloween already!” Nya comments as the two of you bring in the last of the boxes from the Bounty’s storage unit. 

“It’s weird to think about, isn’t it? Feels like we were just freaked out about the fact that it was January...and now, here we are decorating for the biggest party of the year.” 

“Time has been passing so quickly, hasn’t it?” Nya mumbles, sighing. “Make me wonder how fast next year will feel.” 

“It has. But at least we’re going to be able to see a lot of our friends at the party this year!” you reply, taking a moment to stretch before you head over to your Bluetooth speaker. “We just need to remember to be in the moment more often. So, let’s enjoy this now! I’m so excited to see this place completely Halloween-ed out. I bet it looks awesome.” 

“You’re right. We get too caught up in the future to think of the present. But yeah, I think Jay and I did a good job last year, but it’ll be even better this year since we’ve got more stuff. We also invested in different kinds of lighting to really set the mood.” 

“This is going to be so much fun!” you state, grinning as you start digging through the boxes. “Let’s get started!” 

With that, you and Nya set about stringing lights and decorations throughout the Bounty, at one point taking a break to turn on some Halloween music. At some point, you come across a set of custom-made decorations gifted to the ninja by fans that add an even better touch to the atmosphere you’re going for. You can’t help but be impressed at the sheer craftsmanship added to some of the handmade ones. 

At first, the two of you question how you’re going to be able to fit everything without overdoing it, but that inspires you and Nya to create something of a mural along one of the walls. For some aspects, you two are able to develop a story for your decorations, even going as far to make characters and plot to accompany them. You and Nya get so into it that you don’t even hear the ninja entering. 

“Hey guys,” Kai greets tentatively, the five glancing around the area. “...I see you’ve decorated.” 

“We sure did,” you reply, the two of you stepping back to let the others admire your hard work. 

“What’s all of this? I didn’t think we had this much stuff to decorate with,” Cole notes, the five observing. 

“We didn’t until we got those donations,” Nya answers. “Come on, look at how set them all up!” 

With that, the guys curiously follow you and Nya as you guide them through the Bounty: 

“We decided to make a mural!” you explain, pointing to one of the walls that, at first, was mostly empty. Now, though, you and Nya had created an entire scene of horror. 

“It starts here,” Nya prompts, pointing to a giant, fake spider plastered against the top right corner of the wall. It rests against a cobweb, with a plastic figurine tangled in the web. “The guy caught in the web is named Philip. He was caught while exploring an ancient temple, and then he got eaten by the giant spider.” 

Jay, as expected, is completely engrossed. “No, Philip! This can’t be good. What happens next?!” 

“Well...Philip’s brother, Jim, wondered what happened to him,” Nya answers, pointing to a fan-made figurine. “So, he went looking for Philip. He was able to follow his trail into the tomb.” 

“That is, until Jim encountered Philip’s ghost!” you state, tapping on a stereotypical white sheet ghost made from paper. The eyes are a little wonky, insinuating that it was likely made by a child. Regardless, it’s still adorable and works for the story. “Philip warned Jim that he could not take on the spider alone.” 

“So, Philip and Jim created a plan to gather a special ops team,” Nya continues. “That teams consists of three people.” 

From there, you and Nya continue to recount your manufactured tale about how Philip and Jim recruit a pumpkin man, a serial killer, and a witch in order to take the spider down. It ends on a gruesome note: 

“-and then, the Pumpkin Man starts eating the spider’s guts to avenge Philip!” you declare, eyes wide as you envision the scenario. “He starts slurping the spider’s intestines out like a ramen noodle!” 

“But before he can finish eating all of the intestines, the serial killer stops him, stating that they need to make an example out of the spider. Since the spider was so big, he had plenty of intestines left to work with.” 

“Then, with the help of the witch, the serial killer intertwined the intestines with the rope, using it to hang the spider in front of the tomb. As a result, no one ever entered the tomb again, and Philip was finally able to move on to the afterlife.” 

The end!” Nya concludes, the ninja all nodding along slowly. 

“O-kay,” Lloyd notes in a drawn-out syllable, eyes wide upon hearing the tale. 

Jay chuckles nervously. “Well, um...I think you both did a...a great job!” 

“Thank you!” you chirp. “Oh, and we haven’t even gotten to the gaming room yet! Come on!” 

With that, you and Nya drag five mildly terrified ninja to explain your next story. 

[hannahbarberra162]

hi!!! i wanted to leave another appreciation ask for you!! lately you've been pumping out SO many bangers, between the incredible endings of can't fix a broken heart, crocodiles gambit, your personal oc work and under the microscope plus so many others like how that ive started to name them im realizing the devil works hard but you work HARDER idk what you do for work but i hope you're not over stressing yourself with all this writing!! its so eloquent and the dialogue is so engaging I have no clue how you get these chapters out to us so fast!! i know ive said it a lot but i hope to be able to call myself ur biggest fan haha and i think its always nice to be reminded of how great you are! so i wanna remind you!! i just got done reading the crocodiles gambit and although i adore your yandere fics since you make them so psychological and suspenseful i gotta say i LOVE this one. it's so sweet and tender at times (also freaky which thanks lol 👅) but crocodile is characterized SO well and the reader actually has a fun personality which i love, yet is enough of a blank slate to project onto which i also love. the way you address trauma and wounds also resonates with me so much, it's so so heartwarming to see that and honestly everyone needs someone to care for them in the way you write love 😭❤️ ur writing makes me SICK in the best ways i have to take small breaks and delegate with myself to go over the complexities of each paragraph it's TOO MUCH!!

you also mentioned in my comment on can't fix a broken heart (which i JUST saw bc ao3 didn't give me a notification 😇) that my comments make you feel like a real writer- im so very happy BUT i have one qualm; you ARE a real writer!!! how could you be my favorite writer/author if you aren't a real writer?? makes no sense... so take that! you write, so you're a writer! and you're my favorite one at that! don't downplay your own work- someone out there will always appreciate it, even if you yourself can't all the time (someone being me and so many others- i have no clue how to check tumblr followers since i downloaded the app specifically to follow you on it so if ur follower count isn't in the zillions ill riot)

i hope you're having a great day, week, month and year, thank you for EVERYTHING you do for us and write!! i have a question but im going to leave it in another ask with like... a 1-3 day buffer so i dont feel like im bombarding you haha. thank you so much for interacting with my fangirling over you and thank whoever out there made you a one piece fan (which feel free to tell me how id love to know) because you are the best writer in the fandom

I'm actually gonna cry (I did cry). This is so thoughtful, so kind, so sincere. You can send me as many heartwarming, nice, uplifting messages as you want. You can't see Tumblr followers, and I don't focus on it because of people like you. It doesn't matter to me how many people follow me when there are wonderful people like you who encourage and inspire me. I do have a full time job and other responsibilities but this is my escape and hobby. Thank you so so much Celine. You really don't know how much you impact my heart <3.

Funny enough, you can thank Sanji for making me an OP fan. He really brought me into this whole world - I fell in love with the man and it's been nothing but brainrot ever since. Yandere / dubcon is one of my favorite things to read and write, but I do enjoy a softer fic here and there too. Feel free to send asks / requests! I can't promise they'll be good or timely, but I do think about all of them

Thank you, Celine. I had a hard day IRL and this really made me feel better.

[slamamanderb]

I think that part of the reason I'm so drawn to Maria Nearl is because of how she recognizes that she's happiest as a background character. We get so many stories about Special People who do Heroic Things and spread Justice for all. And Maria could be that person - just look at how well she did in her first Major with minimal training and near-nonexistent backing! But after tasting the triumph and the fame of a tremendous tournament run, she chooses to put herself first and concede the spotlight.

She was born with all of the makings of a Main Character; a strong sense of justice, oodles of tenacity, legendary lineage, powerful arts, orphaned at a young age, strong and reliable older sister who was forcibly separated, capable but contrasting aunt/uncle mentor figures, yada yada yada. These are things that set up perfectly her role in the Kazimierz arc, where she is cast as the familiar gifted youngster with a good heart who succeeds against all odds.

I don't think it would have been at all out of place if Near Light had ended with Maria triumphing over the Blood Knight. After Margaret swooped in to save the day in a rigged match, the writers could have invoked the Bond of Sisterhood and had Margaret coach Maria to victory with the wisdom she gained in her exile. But that's not what happened. Maria, who earned her spot in the tournament with blood and sweat, hands her place to Margaret as if it's the most natural thing in the world to do. Because to her, I think that it is. She never entered the tournament for Blemishine to win. She entered the tournament so that House Nearl wouldn't lose it's status for not having a Knight Primus. So when Magaret shows up to set that right, the problem is fixed as far as Maria is concerned.

It's not about whether or not she is a good knight. She is! [and anyone who says otherwise can fight me!] It isn't about whether or not she prefers the workshop to the training field either. It's about turning herself into the right tool for the job, and finding satisfaction in being a bulwark of support for her beliefs. A common thread in her story is about how her ideals are somehow weak and lesser because they are inspired by someone else. But to me, that's fundamentally wrong!

The idea that she couldn't sweep her first Major with nearly no training because she didn't "believe" strongly enough is absurd. You don't have to come up with an idea to believe in it yourself. You don't have to stand front and center in the court of public opinion for your actions to have any weight. Helping the Main Character is sometimes more important for getting the job done than trying to be another one yourself. And Maria has plenty of ways that she's uniquely capable of supporting Margaret. At the end of her op rec, she very specifically separates her literal smithing skills from a more general conviction; that she would forge any "tools" to open up "a way" for Margaret.

To me, it's the story of the talented little sister in the background that is more enchanting than the unstoppable big sister in the center of the stage.  It just tickles my brain in such a way that I can't stop rooting for her.

Happy Birthday Maria :)

From the end of her Op Rec: https://arknights.fandom.com/wiki/Blemishine/Operator_Record

Blemishine:

"I don't need the spotlight shone on me. If she [Margaret] can carry the equipment I've cast for her to stand in that light, that's enough for me."

"If she wants a sword, then I'll forge her the sharpest sword. If she wants a shield, I'll forge her the sturdiest shield."

"If she wants a way, then, well, I'll forge her the best tools to open it."

"That's all there is to it."

[chromatic-lamina]

Any number you haven't yet answered but want to for the writer ask meme!

Heh-heh! Great ask ❤️

26. Would you rather write a fic that had no dialogue or one that was only dialogue? One with no dialogue, because I can always throw in reported speech and thought processes. Takes a particular skill to make a fic that is all dialogue authentic and interesting.

28. Does anyone read your fics before you post them? If so, who? Sometimes. I won't name 'em cos' I don't want to clutter up their notifications, but especially for exchanges, or if I've used someone's art (with permission) as inspiration, or for zines, etc.

37. Promote one of your own “deep cut” fics (an underrated one, or one that never got as much traction as you think it deserves!). What do you like about it? Okay, I guess the most recent is valuta from the Corazine (aftersales almost finished, but that's just an aside). I thought I did a pretty good job on portraying what the Donquixote brothers went through, also Cora's relationship with Sengoku and Law, and then Law with Sengoku, but maybe it was too much for the word count. It got very little interaction in the way of comments, at least. I like the KidLaw fics I did for the 2022 exchange and for the OP secret santa that year, but they remain two of my least popular fics (in terms of hits).

I like valuta for story parallels (Cora and Doffy, Law and Lami, etc.). I like the KidLaw fics because they make me laugh.

38. Did any of your fics get surprisingly popular (whatever that means to you)? Which ones? Why do you think they were so successful? Yeah. I think I've answered this before, and it's not massively popular compared to some fandom behemoths, but the Usopp vs the Heart Pirates fic: Dark like the North Blue Sea (aka The Sea-Hill you Die On) . I think it grew in popularity because it's canon compliant (also, maybe funny). Once a fic gets a certain number of kudos or hits too, it feeds its popularity growth, because people sort by kudos and hits, so all those hidden gems remain hidden! I'm happy that people enjoy it though!

43. If you take/write prompts: what’s your favorite prompt fic that you’ve written? Probably the one that @afterdeck-ace gave me of: Chopper and Law talking about courage or Jolly Rogers. They're talking about both in softening the fall of snow. That's followed or on par with screen / shiki-e, which was inspired by a tsute doodle. You can see the doodle and links to tsute's art on the AO3 page.

47. If [taxi] was a pair of shoes, what kind would it be? Describe the shoes.

Her jeans cost more than his weekly pay, hell — monthly— and her sneakers were scuffed and used in a way that hid or emphasised their one-of-a-kind design. Pretty cool. A red tonbo — dragonfly — from what he could see, stretched from the toe, its thorax and segmented body running along one side of the shoe, a blue chrysanthemum and pond reeds rising from the heel and undulating in the air below the insect.

I used a ref for that, but can't remember where I sourced it from.

I changed a few things, and the maker's name is on the jpg, fortunately!

48. What’s the last fic you read? Do you recommend it?

Yes! I recommend it: Ours lives like sand in the gears of the world by @afterdeck-ace (Lily_Amazon). A platonic Law & Robin ficlet that explores the parallels and differences between them so well.

Also, a quick but satisfying read (sounds like Borsalino's possible reflection on Akainu) with this fic, In The Dappled Sun. Lemon mentioned (tumblr's being silly with throwing out community settings left, right and centre, so sorry for the return to FFN vocab). Fic author @kookoofufu

Am continuing to read saltyrock's It Takes a Lot to Know a Man but haven't read the latest chapter yet. LawBin and CrocoBin. Endgame LawBin.

There's a lot of good stuff out there, and so little time!

[just-an-enby-lemon]

Some Game HC's I have about Riddler:

BTAS Riddler loves playing DnD both as a player (always a caster) and as the DM. He is a game developer in the 90's so you bet your ass he was the fliperama kid. Everyday he went to the local game station (and later started exploring and looking for different ones all across Gotham) with only one coin. He played once against a player in a winning streak beting coins and he always won and would accept bets from challengers. He was abble to play all day with only one coin because he never lost a bet.

Gotham Riddler is another DnD nerd and a gamer. But I think he had more money growing up than BTAS Riddler and actually played games in a gameboy. He got a summer job so he could buy more games than Mario and Pokemon. Also I'm sorry but Gotham Riddler never played DnD, that man was born to be a DM and is likely the one DM that didn't became one because it's harder to find a DM than a party so you DM once and now that's your fate.

Arkham Riddler plays Magic The Gathering. He also plays DnD and he is the insufurable player that goes out of the way to create the most OP characthers completly full of combos and makes everything boring for everyone else because he slays too hard. He is insuferable playing Magic as well but at least he is being insuferable against his adversaries. He lost his original deck after being arrested the first time and somehow it ended on young Barbara Gordon's hands. The small time period were pre teen Barbara was the biggest Magic nerd and forced a confused Jim to play was probably the worst thing Riddler ever did to comissioner Gordon and that includes killing his co-workers and friends. Later Barbara went to play it with Jason and Tim (who she isn't dating cause ew), Bernard joined at some point.

The last DnD player is Unburied Riddler who is the opposite to Arkham: he always plays as a bard and he is the biggest follower of the rule of cool/the wonders of RP ever. He knows the rule book upside down but he never really followed the rules, he just sweet talks the DM and the tabble into letting him role for his insane plans to the point that after he basically forced Barbara and Bruce to play with him (Barbara asked Montoya to DM) no one on the tabble even knew what bardic inspiration actually did until Alfred heard them playing and as a closeted DnD nerd got incrisingly distressed by Eddie's "gameplay style". Since then Montoya joined the tabble as a paladim and Alfred is the DM. Instead of analysing what to pick to upgrade his characther Eddie spends all the time trying to find ways to sweet talk Alfred (the hardest DM to bullshit ever) into letting him do his thing. Right now his best trick is to make Bruce either join or get excited for the result because Alfred has a soft spot for his son Master Bruce.

Zero Year Riddler for all his cool persona is a nerd and not only he colects all different editions of War (yes the boardgame, the ancient Greece one is his favorite) but he plays competitive Pokemon (both online and the card game). While he is a good Pokemon player he did lose to an incredible good 12yo and he cried a whole day before trying to extract revenge. Unfortunaly for Ed the kid was from Metropolis and there was a change, small as it was, that Superman could get involved and Eddie isn't really one to get his ass beat by Superman.

Still on the card games BTAA Riddler plays Yu-Gi-Oh. He somehow understands the rules and is good on it. Miss Tuesday used to make fun of him for it until Autum acidentaly introduced her to Bakugan. If you play Bakugan you can't make fun of other people's card game choices. BTAA Riddler also plays Pokemon Go, he started because he thought it was hip and cool (he isn't even that old, he is like 30 but he just wants to be cool with the teens that badly already) and kept going because he really likes to take random pictures of pokemon on normal day things, he also loves shinny hunting. He does it on the actual game as well. He never actually played the whole Pokemon story, he just shinny hunts a lot and stops playing after he catched enough cool shinnies. He has some of the first one to capture the shinng videos and a shinny hunting secret twitter.

[Not a Riddler one but BTAS Joker also plays Yu-Gi-Oh because one has to be mad to understand all the different invocation rules (I say that as a former Yu-Gi-Oh nerd). Harley also plays Yu-Gi-Oh on BTAS but she downplays her talents to let Joker win when she is actually insanely good at it.]

[needlesandnilbogs]

when i think of your writing i always think of your murderbot HSAU fic with all the theater kids in the booth running a rehearsal. it's so fun and captures the fun of high school tech theater so well. makes me nostalgic <3 and i also think you did such a good job of translating the tmbd character dynamics to a setting that feels like it shouldn't work with them but somehow works perfectly. like mensah IS a stage manager at heart and i think you nailed her

(ask game is somewhere but I’m too lazy to find it: tell me what you think about/remember most about my fic) (also I reblogged the ask game then totally didn’t have brains for talking about fic for like a day and a half lol but it’s fine and ANYWAYS)

Thank you! I’m really proud of high school au, it seems to be perpetually unfinished because I’m a college student now and it turns out I don’t need the wish fulfillment it kinda was, but one day I’ll finish the unfinished stories and share them for sure. Nostalgia is a good word for it lol

also I hope you know that I saved screenshots of several really nice comments you left on various hsau fics because you get it in the same way I do <3 theater kids uniting against the world

(Also also I hesitated but I’m pinging @clustxr to finally acknowledge them for their massive amount of inspiration and the stories I picked up from them because until college I didn’t really get to do the design part of lighting design, just board op, so instead I asked them a lot (and another friend I’ve lost contact with) and they gave me the technical terms to use)

[cinnamon-bunni]

Once More, With Needles

Rating: T Word count: 4.3k Relationship: Gen (Medic & Scout) Warnings: Canon-typical gore (like, as much as you'd expect from Medic), body horror

Read it on Ao3!

Hey there! This fic was written for @a-scary-lack-of-common-sense's AU, their Job Switcheroo AU! I was heavily inspired by this AU and just fell in love with the characters, so of course I just had to write something <3 I decided to go with Medi-Scout and Engie-Med, as they were the first ones i fell in love with (but honestly, all of the characters are already so good <33) If you haven't, i definitely recommend checking out the AU, as well as OP's art in general! He makes some great stuff :)

I really hope you enjoy! &lt;3

Medi-Scout watched the baseball game that was played on the small TV that sat precariously on his medical cart–Boston Red Sox versus Detroit Tigers–with vague interest. In all honesty, with the way his cap was pulled down far enough that it obscured half of his view, and how he slouched in the cheap office chair with his feet propped up on his medi-pack, he was on the verge of just falling asleep due to boredom. Other than the few times the Tigers did some outrageous play against the Sox, the game really couldn’t keep his attention all that well. He was bored out of his mind–hell, he wouldn’t even mind having someone to dissect; just open them up a little bit, poke around a bit, until his boredom was cured by something else.

Thankfully, his favorite patient (read: the one who always tested his patience) knocked on the open door before letting himself in. The clicking of his boots against the cement ground had warned Medi-Scout before his voice could say anything. He raised his cap upwards a bit to see, and sure enough, Engie-Med was there, creepy-ass smile and all, and was fast approaching him.

“Germs, good morning!” the man greeted. His hands were behind his back as he approached, until he planted himself next to the operating table. The overalls he wore were drenched in dried blood–which was hard to tell, because they were already a brown color, but the splashes of red of fresher blood made it easier to tell. They’d been like that for a few days now from what Medi-Scout had seen, and he wondered how long the newly named Engineer had been working on himself. His face, other than that huge fucking smile, portrayed unease. Ludovic always seemed to know how to creep someone the fuck out. “I hope I am not interrupting anything?”

Germs’ eyes darted back to the TV. “Sorry man, but as you can see, my time is being used up with some very important work. Have a full schedule over here, if it ain’t obvious.” The sarcasm didn’t drip off of his voice, it was fucking pouring off of it.

“Good!” Ludo replied, voice ever chipper, “Because I need a medical professional to look at something for me–a bit of a problem in my hand, you see.”

Germs sat up and stretched his hands overhead. “‘Kay then, just take a seat on the table, I’ll take a look at it.” Ludo complied, lifting himself onto it, while Germs stood up to stretch his legs. The newly named Medic always did enjoy seeing what monstrosity Engie-Med would create with his own body. The man, last Germs had seen, was cutting himself open to stuff in some titanium in his body, as well as drafting blueprints for more complicated contraptions he wanted inside of him. It was interesting, in kind of a weird, fucked-up morbid way, but a part of Germs kinda enjoyed to see the work Ludo would do–even if it did always had to be him to clean up the mess.

“Alright then Ludo, lay it on me: what sorta damage did you do this time?” he asked, walking over at a leisurely pace. “Did you put some more things in that arm of yours? Let me guess–mini saw blade? Another pair of scissors? How about a can’a Bonk for me?”

Ludo laughed and shook his head. “No, I am afraid to say it is a bit more…complicated than that. You know, blood problems, things like that.”

Medi-Scout frowned, and made a motion for the other to show him his hands. “What, as in problems with circulation or somethin’? What could’ve you done that woulda done tha–holy fuck what the fuck happened to your fucking hand?” 

Ludo’s smile never faded, but more creases of worry appeared on his face. “Aheh. Well, you see, as I said: blood problems. After doing a bit of work on it last night it seems that the hand has lost blood! And a lot of it.”

A lot was an understatement. Ludo’s right hand, after what seemed to be poorly done jobs of setting and resetting the bone, was crooked from healing incorrectly. His fingernails were nothing but shortened and cracked from obvious miscare, and the cuticles were all bloody and ripped to shreds, open wounds that bled from mistreatment. There were pieces of metal that came out from underneath his skin on the back of his hand, only to dip and go back, without a doubt for the weird experimental shit that he had inside of his hand that went up all the way through his arm. All of that, however, was not the worst part. The entire right hand was shades of a darkened purple and gray. The fingers looked the worst, with a dark, almost-black color filling them instead of a normal, healthy color that a person should have. Holy fucking shit.

“What the fuck happened to the circulation? You do know you need that, right? That you need blood for your hand to work? Because it’s kinda essential for your hand to work, you moron.”

Ludo scoffed, but there was no anger in his voice, or anywhere on his face. “Of course I know I need it! That’s why I came to you!”

Germs stared at the hand for a few more seconds, then looked up to the other man. He wasn’t quite sure what emotion he was feeling, but his quiet “what the fuck” was the best explanation to what was going through his head. He gently grabbed the hand, the slow movement giving room for Ludo to say anything, before turning and examining the hand. From the wrist he could see large, horribly done stitches to keep the skin together–not from injuries or cuts that were healing, but because those were the spots the items would pop out of from his arm, and it was a way to keep it closed until he needed something like a knife to come out from the contraption that was inside of Ludo’s arm.

Germs pushed up the sleeve–he struggled a bit, the buttoned-up cuff that was too form fitting being hard to push up against the fucked up forearm, but Ludo used his other hand to properly grab onto the dress shirt sleeve and bring it all the way up to his shoulder, to where it bunched up against his red sweater vest.

The engineer’s arm wasn’t in any better condition than his hand. It was littered with long, fucked up stitches, in similar condition of his wrist. All of course were there for the same reasoning, to have a spot where the tools could come out of his arm, but jesus fuck was it hard to look at. The purple-gray tone to his arm certainly didn’t make anything better.

“Well, my guess–just a thought, by the way, just a random guess here–is that you have a bit too much shit in your arm. Just a bit.” Germs poked and prodded at the arm, feeling around the stitches. “And this stitching job is great, by the way. Better than mine, yeah?”

Ludo’s smile never faded as he crooked his head to the side. “You are being sarcastic.”

“Of course I’m being fuckin’ sarcastic! Dammit, it’s like everyone here is useless without me.” He sighed, and let go of the arm. “I don’t even know how you expect me t’fix this. Unless you already got some sorta plan-”

“I do, actually!” Germs watched with a blank stare as Ludo fished out folded up, bloodied blueprints from the front pocket of his waist apron, held down by a belt. He then held it out for the medic to grab, a friendly yet terrifying smile on his face. “I began drafting them this morning,” he said as Germs started to unfold the print, “and I finished it just a few minutes before coming here.”

The blueprints were hard to read. A mix of the folded creases, bloodied spots, and poor handwriting made Germs squint to read it. He soon realized that the majority of the writing–what he could decipher, anyway–was in German. The only English that was written went along with the circle that was around the design of the machinery and an arrow pointing at it, reading “put around + in upper arm!” which was finalized with a crudely drawn smiley face.

He looked back up at the engineer. The smile on his face was wide, and the creases of worry grew. “Well, I never said the design was well-made, but I assure you that the real thing will be better in quality. It will simply just direct more blood into my arm and hand and sort of–aheh, push its way into my hand. It will work, trust me.”

“It better,” he said, handing the blueprints back over. “I ain’t putting some faulty machinery in you because you think it might work.” But in all honesty, Germs wasn’t all that picky; he trusted Ludo, believe it or not, and if he said it was safe enough to use, then Medi-Scout wouldn’t have too much hesitancy with stuffing random shit into the man’s arm.

“So, how ‘bout this,” the medic continued. He pointed at the top of the upper arm. “I put your weird machine thingy here,” he trailed down the arm, “and all the weirdo blood-pumping-slash-forcing-blood-in lines inside. And then I can even fix up your shitty stitches for you! Free of charge.”

“Yes, how kind of you,” Ludo replied, “truly, I’d be useless without you.”

It was sarcasm, but Germs still smirked at the praise. “Yeah yeah, I’m amazing. Now go get that thingamajig already and let me see it.”

The pair worked well into the evening. Dinner had been missed, with Mikel knocking on the clinical doors and shouting that they could get leftovers in the kitchen once they were done. Ludovic yelled back in acknowledgement as he sat on the medical table, and Germs was busy opening up his arm. From his wrist all the way up to his upper arm, Medi-Scout cut him open, and Ludo only twitched a few times in pain.

“I stopped feeling things in that hand after the first few implants. Especially in the fingers,” the engineer explained with a smile. “Probably should have thought there was something wrong. Oh well!” Germs had no idea how the hell to put Ludo’s contraption into the arm. Germs kept looking for the right place to start, bringing it close to the shoulder, only to bring it back to him again. “It’s simple enough, Germs. I made it with you in mind, afterall.”

“Yeah okay, thanks chucklefuck. That makes everything easier for me.” Germs stared at the arm for a few seconds before giving a low grumble. The main module of it–a circular thing, with a clasp that let it open and close with ease, and a shit ton of wires connected to it–was supposed to be on the arm, right below the shoulder, where it could then do whatever the fuck it’s supposed to do with Ludo’s blood. The main problem Germs was finding were the wires; he was sure there was some sort of intricate way Ludo expected him to place the wires, and he didn’t want to fuck that up.

He quickly changed his mind about this in about three seconds though, as Ludo gave a quiet, “any day now, Germinoma.” So, Medi-Scout clasped it on the arm, and started shoving wires just about everywhere and anywhere he’d felt would need the blood. Which were a lot of places. Jesus fuck the arm hadn’t even bled for the whole ass five minutes it’d been open. Again: cool, but in a fucked up, morbid way.

Hooking up the blood circulation system and making sure it actually did its job was a bit of a pain in the ass. In the end the wires and other mechanical bits were just about everywhere–many pieces not so much inside of the arm anymore, but out in the open, with metal openings back into the arm and to hold them in place, where everyone could see. It was not a pretty sight, not at all; the stitches had disappeared thanks to the work of the medi-gun, but they’d only come back after a few uses of the arm. It was still a disgusting color, but they watched with bated breath, and both released it with mirroring sighs when Ludo’s arm went from a purple-gray color into a slightly less purple-gray.

Plus, his cuticles started to bleed. Which was only a good sign.

“Wonderful!” Ludo exclaimed, hopping off of the table. “Danke, my friend. You have helped me a great deal.”

“Yeah yeah, I know, I’m pretty great,” Germs said. He couldn’t help the proud smirk he had on his face–he supposed in the same way Engie-Med couldn’t help the crazed smile he always wore–and Medi-Scout, not for the first time since he picked up the job as the resident medic, felt a satisfied feeling deep in his chest. One that told him that this was right.

“Just come back over if it gives you any trouble. Or if you find some other way to fuck up your hand again.”

Ludo rolled his wrist in slow movements. “I might just take you up on that offer,” he said. He shot Germs one last creepy-as-fuck smile. “But for now, good night. Hopefully dinner was kept warm for us.”

Germs waved the engineer off before turning his attention to cleaning up the infirmary a bit; he could get dinner afterwards, once he was done shoving the medical utensils back into random drawers and kicking the medi-gun back into its place of being right in front of the TV. It didn’t take all that long really, and he was able to spend the rest of his night in blissful boredom. He was also able to spend the next day the same way. A quiet day-in was nice, if not a little slow. But he had the whole day to himself, and Germs spent that day without anyone busting the door down. It was pleasant, if not boring. But those days were few and far in-between, so he relished it as much as he could.

It was only the day after that did Ludo knock on his door again. As a formality of course, as he entered right away once he did.

“Oh. Back already?” Germs asked. “Two days–that must be a new record or somethin’.”

“Aheh. Well, what can I say? I’ve been busy.”

“Which is great for me, by the way. I loved so much how I had to jury-rig your blood system thing, that I am ecstatic that I have to do it again. Really brightens my day, you know.”

A forced laugh came from Ludo. “Sorry to burst your bubble, but I’m afraid it is my other hand that will need attention.

A sigh left Germs. “Alright, what did you do now?”

“I’m glad you asked!” Engie-Med, with excitement clear in his face, walked with a pep in his step to reveal left hand. The once perfectly normal left hand was now not so perfect.

“Dude. What the fuck is that?”

“Needles!” he exclaimed. The hand, while still a natural and alive hue, was pale from blood deprivation. All of his fingers, sans index, had a metal piece that protruded at the end of his fingers–almost as a covering of sorts, or perhaps a replacement of the fingertips. Before Germs could ask him to clarify, thin and very sharp needles popped out of the metal pieces. Ludo did indeed gave himself needles in his fingertips. The fuck.

“They’re retractable,” Ludo explained, not retracting them. Which, yeah, was fine because Germs totally felt fine with the engineer moving the hand around and flexing the fingers with the pin-point needles inches away from his face and felt perfectly safe with this engineer and his dangerous body modifications. “And I am also planning on maybe having screwdrivers too!”

“Dude, your hand is gonna be fucked up, just like your other one,” Germs said, shoving down the urge to admit that that sounded like a pretty cool idea, despite all of the obvious health risks there was with shoving metal inside of a human body. He didn’t focus on it, because Ludo’s right hand, the one decked out in crazy shit, caught his attention once again. “Like, what the fuck happened to it over the two days?”

“Oh! Funny story actually.” Ludo gestured with his still-unretracted-needles hand to the blood circulation system. “You will be very happy to hear that it is working! My hand has been filled with a lot of blood.”

“Okay yeah cool, that doesn’t explain why your fingers are fucking dying.” Ludo frowned at that, and looked down at the hand, while Germs hadn’t stopped staring at it. The right hand, still crooked and now with new, fresh stitches made by the engineer, had a healthy-ish hue to it. It was certainly better than it had been before, but the fingers were still a dark gray color.

“Yes, I sort of ran into that problem a bit ago. The hand is getting plenty of blood and yet,” Ludo looked back up to the medic and shrugged. “Nothing. Still dying.”

“Which shouldn’t be happening,” Germs insisted. He looked back down at the hand–it really was still a healthy color. Yeah, there was a bit of an abnormal purple hue to it, and sure, the cuticles bled far too much and were probably filled with too much blood, but it was fine. What was not fine were the still darkened and dead fingers.

“And you didn’t even get to shove needles into those ones,” he commented.

“I know! Truly a shame.” A sigh left Ludo. “Perhaps one day I can add something else to them that can make them shine.”

“You know I think that’s probably just adding to the problem. But yeah no, go ahead and add more shit. Sure it’ll do wonders to that hand of yours.”

“But! That is not why I came to see you, my friend.” He raised his left hand up, and finally retracted the needles back, making it look at least vaguely normal. “It is this one that I need you to look at. I’m dealing with a bit of a, uh…aheh, jam, so to say. At least I think it is, anyway.”

Germs blinked. “Jam?”

A smile grew on the engineer’s face. “Well! As you can see, my forefinger was the only one I did not modify to have a needle point. That is because I decided to make it into a finger gun!” He even formed a little gun with his hand, giving a “pew pew!” for emphasis. His smile became one of worry. “And it is not firing, no matter how much I mess with it. It is harder to mess with it with only one hand, I’ve found. So why not find someone who can use both his hands and is already acquainted with my work? A second pair of eyes and opinions, so to say.”

A sigh left Germs. “Aright, yeah man. Just get on the table already.”

The workload this time, when compared to jury-rigging the blood circulation contraption, was quite small. Especially since Germs decided he’d look at the hand with dying fingers another day. Ludo could wait like twenty-four more hours, it’d be fine.

Cutting into the hand revealed a shit ton of titanium lining along his bones and muscles. Not as much compared to the other hand, mind you, but Germs was sure it was still an unhealthy amount. He messed around with the mechanisms for the needles for a short bit–Ludo watched silently as he did this, with the needles coming out and back and out and back as Germs stared with a slight fascination with it all.

The same could not be done with the index finger. It had metal wiring and such, just like all of the other fingers, and yet nothing happened when he poked or prodded at it. Germs frowned. He rolled in the stool that he sat in to get a different view of the arm; he pushed to get the squeaky wheels to move, until the hand in question was directly in front of him, with the fingers pointing toward him. He kept poking, even trying to move the different metal bits to see what’d happen. A piece–which Germs guessed was some sort of piston–was stuck, and didn’t move as the other counterparts of the piece had.

“Ich habe es dir gesagt, it is jammed." Germs glared at the man, who met him with a smile. 

“Gee, thanks. Your insight really helps.” The man simply shrugged, and Medi-Scout focused back on his work. He tried more pressure, more force in moving the piece–he was met with nothing but a bit of fidgeting from the engineer. “The hell could’ve gotten stuck in there?” Ludo gave another shrug as an answer, and the medic sighed. “Cool, that’s just great.”

A lot of yanking and pulling on the piece made Germs the victor, only by brute strength on the thing. In the end he moved it a few centimeters backwards, but that was good enough. He was able to poke and prod in this new space, which worked just fine with him.

“Wait, I think I got it.” Germs narrowed his eyes as he focused on his work, with Ludo craning his neck forward as much as he could to look over.

“Dude, what the fuck.” Germs worked harder, hunched down closer to the arm to get a better look. “Is that a fucking bone shard?” In the small space was, indeed, a small bone shard. He was able to pull it out, thankfully; it was drenched in blood, but Germs knew his way around the human insides enough to easily recognize it. “What the fuck are you even doing to your body?”

“Science,” Ludo answered with ease. His smile never left his face–in fact, it grew with his answer. “And engineering. Sometimes the things in the body get in the way.”

“You do know that you still need your bones to, I don’t know, function, right?”

Ludo simply laughed as a response. What took place next only took seconds to happen, but both men watched with alert eyes. How, as Medi-Scout attempted to move the metal-piece-possibly-piston back into place, started to activate, now with nothing in its way. They watched as the piston moved further and further, and followed it by an ear-splitting bang. And they realized in horror that the finger gun did indeed work now, as blood started to soak the bottom half of Medi-Scout’s shirt.

“Fuck!” Ludo was quick to pull his hand back away from Germs. Germs, hand down and putting pressure against the wound, pushed with his feet to propel himself to a few feet away from the table; the wheels shrieked loudly from the abuse, but it fell on deaf ears. Arriving at the medi-pack, he kicked the backpack piece hard, and strained to get the gun portion to point it at himself.

“What the fuck, dude! You fucking shot me, asshole!”

That damned smile of his never left the engineer’s face, but at least it was one of worry and concern. “Aheh. At least we fixed the problem, ja?”

The medi-gun slowly closed up the wound, though it did not do anything about the pain, nor the bullet that was still inside of him. “Oh yeah, thank God we did that. Good thing nothing bad came out of it, yeah? I’m having a grand ol’ time, asshat, if you couldn’t tell.” Germs held the medi-gun against his lower abdominal region for a few more seconds before pulling it back. He felt around the area–no blood or open wounds, but the bullet was still inside of him, which caused only a bit of internal agitation. It would be fine, he was sure of it.

He used the gun to also close up Ludo’s arm, which somehow hadn’t bled out that badly despite Ludo’s movements with said open arm. Which was a shame, because a major loss of blood would’ve been just fine with Germs, just as a small form of payback for fucking shooting him. 

Ludovic rolled his wrist and stretched his fingers as Germs put away the medi-gun. “Well then! With that figured out, I can finally move onto my next projects. What do you think about me adding a mini saw blade to my right pinkie?”

Germs blinked, and realized that Ludo was waiting for an answer. “You do know that I won’t help you with it, right?”

“Ja, ja, of course.” Germs hated that they both knew it was a lie. If Ludo needed help with anything, especially if it pertained to the human body, Germs would be there. It was his job as the medic after all. Besides, he found joy in the weird work.

“And I’m guessin’ there’s no way I can get you to be more careful so you don’t shoot me again?” Ludo’s smile grew, and Germs already knew the answer to his question.

In the same vein of Germs’ joy of being a Medic, he knew Ludo would never stop being an Engineer. Not from creating things and stuffing said things inside of himself, probably not until he ran out of room in his body for the modifications–even then, Germs had a feeling that he would reach out to the other mercs to continue his work. But the engineer reveled in his work, and took extreme joy in fucking up his body. 

Both had found gratification in these roles that they played. So Germs wouldn’t ask Ludo to stop, never seriously–and besides, Ludo was arguably his favorite patient. Even with the visits that ended with Germs being shot, no he will never forgive the engineer for that, he still found joy in the work. The whole team did, they loved their newly discovered roles. So Engie-Med would always put machinery inside of him, and Medi-Scout would always be there to be apathetic and sarcastic towards the whole thing, despite loving any chance he had to show off his skills.

And he was perfectly content with that.